Picture red dirt to the horizon. No feed. No sheep. Just heat shimmering off a water tank 27 kilometres from home and a man up on a truck with his phone out, waiting for the shuttles to fill.
That’s where Wes Herring wrote his first poem. Wes is a fourth-generation grazier. Owning Gum Park was the only thing he ever wanted. Then the rain stopped, and it has hardly fallen since.
What came next is hard to put into words. Carting water just to keep the house going. Burying sheep. Watching his wife, Kate, hold everything together while he vanished into the truck for thousands of kilometres a week.
The drought drained him — financially, physically and in the places no one else could see. And the stress built up.
He’s here to tell that story because of the people who wouldn’t let him go.
A mate named Brendan heard Wes share his story on ABC radio and turned up with a box of buns and a way of asking are you okay? that left room for an honest answer. He never pushed. He simply stayed.
Wes shares all of it on Holding on to Hope, a Lifeline podcast. His honesty is extraordinary. So is his hope.
And none of these conversations happen on their own. Every story told, every Crisis Supporter who answers at 3am — that exists because you decided it should. You keep the line open.
