Untold Stories

This is a picture of the NSW Premier Morris Iemma underneath the harbour bridge with the descendants of the 16 men who died during the construction of the bridge. A new and long overdue plaque was unveiled as part of the 75th birthday celebrations in tribute to these men. It was good, for once, to see politicians paying tribute to the men who worked and died on whatever building or project they're officially opening or commemorating. As the premier said in his speech sixteen dead was regarded as a good figure in the day; and a testament to the success and high safety standards of the project. Of course 16 dead these days would be a huge construction scandal.

Peter Lalor, who wrote a book on the Bridge as a result of a commission, was there and we swapped notes. It was one of those days when, as he recounted, the old saying about journalism seemed truer than ever: "A young man's sandpit and an old man's quicksand".

I lent down to hear the stories from Faulkner's children and other descendants, who were in tears as the plaque was unveiled. I thought for a moment it was going to be some trendy bit of bullshit; and at the end thought it was a really decent and worthwhile project. It was a pretty rotten way to die, his bottom half crushed by a steel plate. He would have gone in the most frightful agony. There wasn't much getting away from that. The kids, now in their 70s or early 80s, were basically too young to remember, the youngest boy was only five months old when it happened; but they remembered having to return to the family home in Balmain; and they all spoke very highly of their mother, who had brought them up through the depression years on almost nothing. They remembered funny little things: I would stand behind him and plat his hair; and he loved it. He would be tired after work. He would have been so proud of this today, knowing that he contributed to this world famous structure.

And I listened, jotting notes automatically, all those years later; a strangely echoing consequence from the searing pain and awful distress of an accident so long ago. A young man's sandpit, an old man's quicksand.

THE BIGGER STORY

LEST WE FORGET:

THE ACHIEVEMENT OF CONSTRUCTION WAS MARRED BY THE DEATHS OF
16 MEN IN BRIDGE-RELATED WORKPLACES.

THEY WERE:
Addison, sydney John (1905–1930), boilermaker’s
assistant who fell from the arch when he was bolting
up a piece of steel.
Campbell, James (1887–1932), foreman rigger,
knocked by a derrick crane as he was dismantling
scaffolding from the nW Pylon on 6 February 1932. A
gust of wind had caught the crane.
Chilvers, James Francis (1877–1931), dogman, was
working at the Milsons Point Workshops when a piece
of wood knocked him into the water.
Craig, robert (1863–1926) was a braceman who fell
down a ballast heap at Milsons Point.
Edmunds, Alfred (1875–1931) was a Canadian-born
labourer who was packing stones when he crushed his
thumb. He died from tetanus poisoning 11 days later.
Faulkner, John Alexander (‘Felix’), (1891–1931) was
born in Montreal, Canada and the second of the two
riggers to die on the job. He was laughing when a huge
sliding steel plate almost severed his legs.
Gillon, Frederick (1905–1930) was a rigger who died
instantly when a sheerlegs collapsed in Junction street,
north sydney.
Graham, robert (1890–1931) was working as a day
labourer when a tram knocked him down in Alfred
street, north sydney.
McKeown, Thomas (1881–1929), an Irish-born rigger
who fell from a painting gantry which was suspended
from the Bridge’s road deck.
Peterson, engel August (‘Angel’), (1904–1927), a
swedish born rigger who broke his spine in the Dorman
long workshop and died six months later at the Coast
Hospital (aka Pedersen).
Poole, Percy (1897–1927), a quarryman from Moruya,
was working in the quarry when a large stone block
slid back and killed him instantly.
Shirley, edward (unknown–1928), married, was
working as a carpenter when some scaffolding
collapsed on him at the Fitzroy street Arch, Milsons
Point. He died four days later in royal north shore
Hospital.
Swandells, nathaniel (1905–1927), ironworker’s
assistant, was working in a riveting gang when he
fell from an approach pier and died instantly (aka
swondels).
Waters, Henry (1876–1926), dogman and Moruya
identity, was riding on a loco-crane at the quarry when
the big counterweight jib severed his thigh. He died the
next day.
Webb, John Henry (1908–1931) was an english-born
painter who fell from a cross-girder when he was
working inside one of the south pylons.
Woods, William (1886–1928), a scottish-born
ironworker who fell more than twenty metres from a
gantry on the ninth span.