Tony Smith (Speaker) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

The Prime Minister, on indulgence.

Malcolm Turnbull (Wentworth, Liberal Party, Prime Minister) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I rise to acknowledge the death on 6 August of Betty Cuthbert, an extraordinary Australian and a legendary sportswoman. I place on record the House's appreciation of her extraordinary contributions on and off the track.

Betty Cuthbert was born to run. Her remarkable ability as a sprinter was first noticed when she was 13 by the Parramatta home science teacher June Ferguson. Just five years later, after first being recognised by a very observant teacher, she sprinted her way into Australian sporting history, winning three gold medals at the 1956 Melbourne Olympics, the first Australian to achieve such a feat. She went on to set 16 world records in individual and relay events before finishing her spectacular athletics career as the holder of four gold medals and with the title of 'Australia's golden girl'. To this day, Betty Cuthbert remains the only athlete in Olympic history to earn gold medals in the 100-, 200- and 400-metre sprint. She retired from athletics after the 1964 Tokyo Olympics and returned to work in her family's plant nursery.

Tragically, she developed multiple sclerosis over the following decade. For such a gifted athlete to be struck down by an illness that progressively robbed her of her mobility was incredibly cruel. But she was pragmatic, fiercely independent and strong in faith. She had such a strong faith. She saw this tragic misfortune as an opportunity to raise awareness about multiple sclerosis, and so began her quest, her commitment, to raise awareness about MS and the need for better treatment, better research, better care. She dedicated much of her time to visiting schools, talking about both her Olympic achievements and the impact of multiple sclerosis.

Her strength of spirit and dedication to others—her love for others—was inspiring. It earnt her the award of Member of the Order of Australia for her services to sport and to the community, and recognition as a tireless advocate and a role model for a new generation of Australians.

For many of us, the Sydney 2000 Olympic Games will be remembered for its opening ceremony and the moment when Australia's greatest sportswoman handed over the baton and the hope of the nation to Cathy Freeman. Perhaps the most poignant moment was when the Olympic torch-bearer Betty Cuthbert began her journey around the Olympic track, pushed in her wheelchair by her long-time friend Raelene Boyle, the look of joy on Betty's face reminding us all that she would never be defined by her illness.

Betty Cuthbert was a wonderful human being. She had a very, very deep faith. Humble, gracious, down-to-earth, she took pleasure in the company and conversation of good friends. We pay tribute to this remarkable woman and her exceptional contribution to Australia. To all of Betty's loved ones, friends, family and community, I offer today, on behalf of our parliament and our people, our most sincere condolences.

Honourable members: Hear, hear!

Tony Smith (Speaker) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

The Leader of the Opposition, on indulgence.

Bill Shorten (Maribyrnong, Australian Labor Party, Leader of the Opposition) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I thank the Prime Minister for his words. In the last 48 hours we have seen a lot of that glorious, grainy footage of the 'Friendly Games', the 1956 Olympics. It is a glimpse of an Australia that many of us perhaps had forgotten—men in hats, women in long dresses, everyone in their best for this sporting occasion. It is a snapshot of a simpler, more frugal, more optimistic time. Australians celebrated the Olympic ideal and the love of the game, and watched spellbound as a whip-thin 18-year-old with a shock of blonde hair—high knees propelling her down the cinder track, mouth stretched wide—hit the tape. There was the 100 metres, the 200 metres and then the anchor leg in one of Australia's finest Olympic moments.

I went on YouTube earlier today and watched that race. I listened to the call. It was a beautiful Melbourne day, not a cloud in the sky, not an empty seat in our long-demolished grandstands. Australia is in lane 3. Strickland out to Croker. Australia right on the heels of Great Britain. Croker to Meller, touch and go. Meller to Cuthbert, down the straight, a photo finish for gold and a new world record in the 4 x 100. A perfect end for the golden girls. Three gold medals for Betty, an athlete whom the press had barely mentioned in the lead-up to the games. She was a young woman so modest and so uncertain of whether she would make the Australian team that she actually purchased tickets to the games.

In an era when amateur status was fiercely enforced, this instant elevation to superstar brought no instant rewards, no material contracts on the new television. In fact, when Betty was voted ABC's Sportswoman of the Year and rewarded with a new cutlery set, she had to return it. A few weeks after she stood upon the dais to the cheers of a very proud nation, she was back pulling weeds out of her parents' nursery in Western Sydney. When injury and interrupted preparation cruelled Betty's defence of her titles at the Rome games, she retired at the age of 22. Then, as she always said, God told her to run again. She returned for the only perfect race she ever ran. A fourth gold medal, in the first ever women's 400 metres at Tokyo. Just to give you a sense of her achievement that day all those years ago, Betty's time in 1964 would have been fast enough to qualify her for the semi-finals in the world championships last week.

Five years after that perfect race, that display of unparalleled athletic control, Betty noticed she was breaking tea cups and having trouble applying lipstick. Her friends saw her stumble uncertainly at parties. A decade after Tokyo, she was formally diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. As the Prime Minister said, when the Olympics returned to Australia, Betty graced the track in a wheelchair—beaming, blinking back tears, as her friend Raelene Boyle pushed her and the Olympic torch around the stadium. Once again, the home crowd rose to urge her on. For someone who spoke with God often, Betty never asked why he'd given her this disease, because in her mind she knew the answer. She believed that God had given her MS to raise awareness for others, to help raise the money to find a cure.

Betty knew more than her share of hardship in later life. She lost her home to storms in 1993. She lost her modest savings to investment scams in 1998. In 2002, she suffered a brain haemorrhage. Yet her faith never wavered, nor did her compassion.

I heard a story yesterday that when a rugby league player from Western Sydney was diagnosed with cancer, Betty called to send him a cheque, which would have been a fraction of his income but all of hers. All her life Betty was loved by her doting parents, proud twin sister and dear companion and carer, Rhonda Gillam, who was there to hold her hand until the last. Rhonda alone knows just how much that would have meant to Betty and how much comfort it would have brought her. Farewell, Betty Cuthbert—forever a golden girl.

Honourable members: Hear, hear!