Savvas Christodoulou took in what he saw—his garage survived but his house didn’t—and decided he needed to take an entire two days off work. Edna Harmer found she hadn’t just lost her crochet, she’d lost everything she’d ever owned. Jack Meaney went out to look at the damage then came back in and said to his mother, ‘The whole bloody town’s gone.’1 Don Sanders, who’d weathered the storm at the ABC studios, describes emerging to ‘a most unneerie [sic] sort of sky and cloud formation. It was the utter silence. It was, as I can well imagine Hiroshima was two hours after the big “egg” went off; just nothing.’ Bernard Briec, looking around at the devastation and wondering if a nuclear bomb had hit, thought: ‘Everyone’s dead and we’re the only people who survived.’ Cedric Patterson wiggled out of the wreckage, ‘And when we saw the scene ahead of us, it looked like a view or a picture of the Great Western Front, over the trenches.’ Charles Gurd said, ‘Well, it was like a moonscape, you know.
