Friday 13th - Pioneer Bus Accident - 1956

Yesterday was Friday 13th.
I was reminded of my one 'Friday 13th' incident. I was 7. It was January Friday 13th, 1956. We set off on a bus tour (Pioneer Bus Company) to Melbourne, then on to Sydney I think. With 4 adults in the house the 'ladies' of the house went on a holiday in the summer months of January while the men (Dad & Grandpa) stayed home. It left them free to listen to the cricket on radio, I suspect, and for Grandpa to play lawn bowls at the Grange Bowling club where he was a life member. It was intended as a 'reward' for all the hard work cooking cleaning for the year before.

No mod cons on the bus. No air conditioning, toilet. The seats were just bench type seats with not much padding. steel rails over the top so people could hang on on rough roads. It was hot.

Mum had positioned myself and herself in the front seat behind the driver. I was at the sliding window with it open. Nan was in the seat behind. By herself I think.

All seemed well. We were just coming down final hill into Murray Bridge, some 50 miles? from Adelaide when there was a bit of a bump. Next thing I knew I was on the floor looking up. Mallee tree branches were coming in through my open window, and dust, and the bus was bumping around everywhere. I was worried, but then it soon stopped abruptly.

The axle had broken. The driver was hailed as a hero - he opted for driving into the bush/mallee to slow down and stop the bus, rather than stay on the road, possibly with very dire consequences as we were coming down into town. There was a story told to me, that the wheel came off and rolled all the way through town, finally falling into the river by the bridge.

Nan had a bloody nose. I felt so sorry for her. She would have been in her 70s. She had to have plastic surgery on it - at Murray Bridge hospital. I was reminded that as a child she lived in Murray Bridge. She would tell me stories of the 'gin' that would come to her door to beg for flower - and trade woomeras, spears and boomerangs for food. We did have a lot of aboriginal weapons in our house at one stage. She also told me of the time she had to row out into the river with the woman, when her husband was drunk, and trying to get to her to beat her. Or at least these are my very dim memories of what she told me.

Anyway... one very strong memory I have is of one man, middle-aged or older. He had his hand cupped under his mouth. All bloody. One by one he was spitting his teeth out into his hand ... saying ... I never knew I had so many bloody teeth in my head!

We still all travelled on. They sent a replacement bus from Adelaide. We stayed in hostel and at breakfast the next day we all commented that we knew who were the people from the bus. All had bruises and/or cuts. Mum had reacted swiftly and pushed me onto the floor. I think I was least hurt of anyone. I think the story was on the front page of the Advertiser the next day.