The Way We Were
Sequicentenary of Gunnedah 1856 - 2006

Highest flood of all

For those who lived through it, the 1955 flood in the Namoi River system remains an unforgettable event.

It was described at the time as the greatest natural disaster in the history of the Namoi Valley and despite the valley’s susceptibility to major flooding and a succession of peaks through the second half of the 20th century, nothing has approached the levels of February 1955.

The Independent-Advertiser in Gunnedah headlined the event TRAGEDY STRIKES THE NAMOI VALLEY.

The introductory paragraph in the issue of Tuesday, February 28, 1955, read: Tragedy struck in the Namoi Valley on Friday night when the swollen Namoi River and its main tributaries, the Peel and the Mooki, met above Carroll and Gunnedah, spreading out over miles of rich river country and swiftly entering homes in rural areas and in low-lying residential areas of Gunnedah.

Thousands of head of sheep, cattle and pigs were swept away in the swirling torrents of the raging Namoi, causing the worst disaster in the history of the Namoi Valley.

The newspaper reported several remarkable escapes, highlighting the plight of the six members of the Kingdom family, Jack and Ruth Kingdom and their four young children, who were forced to climb a tree on Ruvigne Lane to escape the raging waters. There they stayed for 36 hours (see.

One Pullaming landholder was reported to have lost 700 cattle, including many stud beasts, as well as 5000 sheep.

On properties in the district, families were forced to climb onto housetops and haysheds.

Reports of an impending major flood came through on the Thursday night, February 23, as heavy rain continued to fall across the saturated catchment.

By 6.30am on the Friday the Namoi at Gunnedah was 22ft 10 inches. A few hours later the river broke its banks.

At this stage, reports received by Gunnedah police revealed that a huge volume of water was yet to come with Manilla and Somerton registering readings above the previous record height in 1910.

Residents of Maitland Street were moving their belongings and furniture to high ground and emergency centres were being prepared at the Showground pavilion, the Scout Hall and church halls.

By Friday night it was obvious that Gunnedah was facing its biggest flood of all time.

The river rose more than a foot (12 inches/30cm) between 9.30pm and 10pm, catching out many residents of Bloomfield Street, who had started too late to move their belongings.

During the night the floodwaters entered homes and business premises at the western end of Conadilly Street. Lambert and Torrens garage premises had four feet of water and there was two feet of water in the premises of Mirow and Sons at the corner of Conadilly and Tempest Street.

By morning the flood had exceeded the 1910 peak on the flood gauge in Abbott Street.

The water had then extended to Little Barber Street and to Tempest Street and it continued to rise, reaching the Town Hall corner and extending into the gutters on the northern side of Conadilly Street as far as the Acropolis Cafe.

In Elgin Street the water rose to the point where it was lapping the footpath of the School of Arts (now the Gunnedah Public School assembly hall) with six to nine inches of water in the CH Wyndham premises across the road.

The water reached a height of 31 feet six inches on the Saturday morning and only slowly retreated at a rate of an inch an hour through the day.

During the emergency an airstrip was established on the Oxley Highway 16 miles (24km) west of Gunnedah with three light aircraft carrying out “biscuit bombing” (food parcel drops) to isolated homesteads.

A four-engined RAAF plane dropped supplies of yeast onto Kitchener Oval by parachute, as well as spare parts for an Army duck stranded near Carroll with a broken propellor.

Mayor of the day, Frank O’Keefe, reported that 250 homes in Gunnedah had been affected to some degree by flooding – 12 beyond repair with around 50 not fit for habitation until they were cleaned up and repaired.

Ald O’Keefe was the emergency relief co-ordinator, who won praise on all sides for his swift and decisive response to the crisis.

The town did not have a civil defence or emergency services structure and most members of the team hastily assembled by the Mayor had never seen a major flood.

One of the biggest problems in the aftermath of the flood was the disposal of the thousands of dead stock.

Under the supervision of the Health Departments of the Municipal and Liverpool Plains Shire Councils, gangs of men were employed in burning the dead sheep, cattle and pigs.

On the northern side of the river near Baker’s Slaughteryards, there were 500 dead sheep.

Dead animals were found in flooded houses, under houses, caught in fences and washed into culverts.

The only flooding victim was Charles Sui, 76, a pensioner, who lived in a hut on the reserve four miles from Gunnedah off the Gunnedah-Tamworth Road.

He disappeared on the night of February 25 when his hut was swept away by the Mooki and Namoi floodwaters.

When the water began to recede, a search was conducted and his body was found near a small bridge east of the main Mooki Bridge.

There was another tragedy through the flood when a young woman was knocked down and fatally injured as she was out looking at the rising floodwaters.

Shirley Claudette Douglas, 21, originally from Tambar Springs, was walking in Conadilly Street between Tempest and Rosemary Streets with two young children when she was struck from behind by a motor lorry at about 8pm on Friday, February 24. She died almost instantly.

A police report said that the lorry had skidded forward when the driver applied the brakes, which were wet and failed to operate.

The victim had been employed in the shoe department of Storey’s.

The great escape of the 1955 flood belonged to six members of the Kingdom family, who were trapped by the fast-rising floodwaters and spent 36 hours in a tree before they were rescued.

Jack Kingdom and his wife Ruth and their four sons, John (then 13), Bruce (12), Bob (9) and Ron (6), were heading for shelter at Ruvigne homestead when their car broke down. As the water rose, they climbed into a tree beside the road, clinging desperately to the branches to stop themselves from falling into the stream, the parents holding onto the two younger boys the whole time.

A caller rang the police station to say that he had heard someone calling out on the other side of the Mooki on the Sunday night and the Mayor, Frank O’Keefe, and Sgt Len Burtenshaw went out looking for them. They heard a faint voice across the water and at first light next morning rescuers set out in a floodboat. When they finally located the family, Jack Kingdom was hoarse, unable to talk, and his wife had suffered extensive scratches on her legs from trying to hang onto the youngest child.

The rescuers also picked up the family dog which had spent the whole time sitting on top of a fencepost. Ironically, when Sgt. Burtenshaw tried to lift the dog out of the floodboat at the top of Henry Street, the dog bit him, the wound requiring seven stitches.

The 1955 flood was such a memorable event that for decades people recalled other major events as “ ... years after the ‘55 flood.”