Survivors

Amid the devastation of the West Gate Bridge collapse, stories of miraculous survival emerged – accounts of men who defied death in ways that seemed almost impossible.

Boilermaker’s assistant Charlie Sant, a young migrant, had only moments to react before the bridge gave way beneath him. Realizing there was no time to run, he sat down on a box and braced for the worst. Others around him rode the bridge down, suffering serious injuries but managing to smile through their pain as rescuers reached them.

Then there was rigger Ed Halsall, who was on the ground when he saw the massive steel span falling towards him. His instincts took over – his legs moved before his mind could process what was happening. As he ran, the sheer force of the collapse sent a blast of wind behind him, lifting him off the ground and flinging him to safety.

Assistant rigger Des Gibson experienced something even more surreal. He had been working on one knee on top of the span when it suddenly split open beneath him, like the ground cracking apart in an earthquake. He fell inside the hollow span, bouncing around like a rubber ball as it plunged to the earth. When the dust settled, he emerged, miraculously unscathed – not a single bone broken.

Yet survival did not mean escape from tragedy. Des Gibson was only 29 years old when the bridge collapsed with him inside, praying for his life. The trauma of that day never left him. Within months, his hair turned grey, and terrifying nightmares of the bridge falling haunted him. He suffered three heart attacks, and in August 1973, at just 32 years old, a fourth heart attack took his life. His death brought the total bridge toll to 37 men.

The 36th death had come in December 1972, when a rigger working on the bridge’s reconstruction fell 170 feet to his death.

For some survivors, fate took an unexpected turn. Vincent Rosewarne, a 24-year-old derrick driver from Hastings, owed his life to a small piece of wire mesh. As he fell, the mesh acted like a trampoline, bouncing him back into the air while the bridge crashed down around him. Despite this stroke of luck, he suffered a broken nose, two broken arms, and a fractured leg.

Brian Fullerton, 24, a Scots-born rigger, remembers nothing of the disaster – his first memory was waking up in the hospital, his head bandaged and a long scar across his face. His mates from the Federated Ironworkers Union paid for his mother, Mrs. Sidney Seay, to fly over from New Zealand to be by his side.

Not everyone had time to react. John Thwaites, 42, grabbed hold of a girder as the bridge collapsed and held on all the way down. The impact shattered his body, leaving him with multiple serious injuries. “I feel like I’ve just gone ten rounds with Lionel Rose,” he later joked from his hospital bed.

Then there was John Laino, who somehow emerged from the wreckage still wearing his John Holland safety helmet, and boilermaker George Stassoulakos of Northcote, who escaped without a scratch.

“I felt a shake,” George recalled. “At first, I thought it was one of my mates working above me. But the shaking didn’t stop. I knew something was wrong. The bridge started to sink—quietly, smoothly, like slow motion. I grabbed the ropes of the catwalk, and the next thing I knew, I was underwater. When I surfaced, I waited for the bridge to come crashing down on me, but it wasn’t there anymore. I saw two blokes—they were hurt, but they could walk. We waded out of the water and collapsed on the riverbank. All around us, I could see people – injured, broken, covered in dust and blood. Pieces of everything.”

Some survivors endured weeks of suffering before succumbing to their injuries. Section Engineer Bill Tracy, 28, rigger Desmond Gibson, 29, and rigger Frank Piermarini, 34, were among those who survived the initial collapse.

Frank, an Italian rigger, struggled to piece together his memories of the fall. “As I tried to scramble out, the world seemed to slide away,” he later said from his hospital bed. “By some grace of God, I was spared.”

Bill Tracy never regained consciousness. He died three weeks later.

Frank Piermarini died ten weeks after the collapse.

And Des Gibson, haunted by the trauma, fought for nearly three years before his heart gave out.

Survival did not mean escape. For many, it was the beginning of a lifelong struggle – one that some would never overcome.