A Journey Through Trauma and Resilience
Cath Gordon recalls April 28, 1996, as the last day she felt truly herself. That fateful day at Port Arthur in Tasmania has left an indelible mark on her life, reshaping her in ways she never imagined. Over the past 30 years, Cath has chosen to keep going, finding strength in small moments of joy and perseverance.
“I’m in constant invisible pain because of the injury that was done to me,” Cath, who suffers from crippling post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), says. “But I’m not giving up. It’s a hard choice, but it’s my choice.”
Into a War Zone
At just 28 years old, Cath was working for the Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra when she led a group of singers from Opera Australia on a sightseeing trip to the historic site of Port Arthur. She had escorted groups before, but this time was different. Moments after leaving the Broad Arrow Cafe, a 28-year-old local finished his meal on the outside deck and then went inside and opened fire with a semi-automatic rifle.
“I knew what live ammunition sounded like, so I could tell by the noise,” Cath, now 58, explains. “People started running, but I slipped into a hypervigilant state. Everything slowed down and was so clear. I told my group to stay calm and keep walking, even as I was thinking, ‘Who will feed the cat?’ and wondering if I’d walk out of this alive.”
Over the following hours, hidden and then emerging to help as the gunman drove away, Cath witnessed things no one should ever have to see. “We went into a war zone on a peaceful Sunday,” she says. Thirty-five people were killed and 18 injured in what would be Australia’s worst mass shooting.
“We were in the carpark afterwards with the walking wounded. Everyone was in a daze. The crowd was calm, but there was a sense that if one person screamed, it would be chaos,” she recalls. The shooter was still on the loose, and given the remote location, it took some time before a serious police and medical presence was felt.
Even when they did arrive, the injured were prioritized, and Cath was left without a debrief, expected to continue her life as if nothing had happened. In the following months, she gradually fell apart. “I couldn’t emote. I was completely numb,” Cath says. Cutting herself off from family and friends, she went into survival mode, terrified that anyone who got close to her would get hurt.
She had to reduce her hours at work, and by March 1997, she couldn’t work at all.
Bringing Joy Back
“I couldn’t figure out how to fix myself,” Cath says, crediting a horse she bought with her last few dollars as saving her life. Whale, as she called him, was close to death, but nurturing him helped her. When they both moved to Ballina on the NSW North Coast in 1998, she began rebuilding her life.
“I went to a doctor who’d treated Vietnam veterans, and that was the start of my journey,” she says. “He told me I had to get out and I could either do indoor cricket with him or go to a singing group with his wife. I went to the singing group and for the first four weeks, I sat at the back. On the fourth week, I got up and sang with them.”
She hasn’t looked back, and by 2009, she was directing the Headliners Chorus. Today, it’s grown to around 40 singers that perform all over Australia, providing her with the focus and purpose she so desperately needed.
“My PTSD is still debilitating. Every day I wake up and it’s April 28, 1996 – but I choose to have a better day,” she says. “It takes strength, but I choose to be kind and give back.”
Cath has been back to Port Arthur twice over the years, but it takes a lot out of her. “The lead-up to this year’s anniversary has been really difficult,” she says. “There’s been Bondi [the Sydney mass shooting], and it’s the 30th year.”
And while Cath won’t be at the site on the anniversary, her head, as usual, will be grappling with the events. “I had a lot of guilt… ‘Why am I still alive?’” she says. “I didn’t lose a relative or have a physical injury, but what was taken from me that day was me. When so much is taken from you, the only way back is to give and bring joy to people. That’s what life is about.”
Today, Cath gives talks and hopes her story might touch another who’s been through trauma of any kind. “I want people to know there’s always hope and to never stop trying. It’s hard, but you have to keep fighting,” she says.
