TUESDAY’S ceremony marking 100years since the opening of the BHP steelworks was an uplifting but sometimes sombre reminder about how much the Big Australian had given to, and taken from, Newcastle.
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The proceedings, in front of the former BHP administration building, were held between two striking memorials to Newcastle’s tens of thousands of ‘‘men and women of steel’’, as the Newcastle Industrial Heritage Association and its two leading lights, Bob Cook and Aub Brooks, like to describe the workforce.
The first, the Muster Point, was built in the final months of the steelworks by Newcastle sculptor Julie Squires – who created the winged Destiny statue on Dyke Point – with an enthusiastic team of BHP steelworkers.
The second memorial, by Branxton artist and blacksmith Will Maguire, is a smaller, more abstract rendering that beautifully meets its brief of preserving the memory of all who lost their lives at the steelworks between the start of construction in 1912 and its closure in 1999.
In his dedication and blessing of the new memorial, the Dean of Newcastle, Stephen Williams, called for us to remember those who had died at the plant, those who had been injured there, and those who had been left bereaved or who were grieving as a result.
‘‘We pray that this memorial will help others to remember those people with gratitude and with reverence, into the future,’’ Father Williams said.
The sculpture’s sole inscription says: ‘‘In memory of the men and women of steel who lost their lives working at this site. May they rest in peace.’’
While I heard a lot of praise on Tuesday for Maguire’s creation, I also heard repeated calls for a list of names to go with it.
One of the most vocal advocates for a memorial list has been Charlestown widow Beryl Fenning, whose husband Kevin was one of two crane drivers killed in a horrific industrial accident at the plant on March 14, 1995.
Mrs Fenning made the suggestion in a Phone Your Say on July 13, 1999, declaring she ‘‘thoroughly agreed’’ with another reader about the need for a ‘‘meaningful memorial’’.
Two days later, Hamilton South resident Doug McKie wrote to say that his father was killed on the coke ovens in 1941.
‘‘The miners have built a memorial to those members who were killed in the mines, so why doesn’t BHP do something similar – or have they something to hide?’’ Mr McKie told the Herald.
Each year, Mrs Fenning published a memorial notice to her late husband, and in 2011, she and the Herald tracked a small collection of brass BHP plaques to Christ Church Cathedral, where they had been taken down from various plant walls after the steelworks’ closure, and then all but forgotten.
There were eight individuals remembered on the plaques, including Mr Fenning and the workmate who died with him, Peter Naylor.
The cathedral discovery led the heritage association to redouble the push for a steelworks memorial.
Donations were made and funds were sought, with this week’s 100th anniversary of the plant opening viewed as a deadline for having a memorial completed.
After watching Tuesday’s ceremony, Mrs Fenning said she liked the memorial but was adamant it would not be complete until it included a list of steelworks’ victims.
It is widely believed that BHP kept a handwritten register of the deaths at Newcastle, and that this book, with other important documents, was sent to BHP archives in Melbourne.
Various efforts have been made over the years to track down the details, and Mrs Fenning says she is determined to renew her campaign for disclosure.
‘‘If they can put the names on the mineworkers’ wall, and if they can do it at Anzac Walk, why can’t they do it here at BHP?’’ Mrs Fenning said.
She and others have suggested that if BHP can’t supply a list, then other organisations, perhaps WorkCover, might be able to help.
Or citizen historians could start compiling one from news clippings.
At least it would give us an idea of how many people we are talking about.
We have nine names, at least, to start with.