When the diminutive dynamo who was Alan ‘Pa’ Eley died last week, people were scrambling to pile endless tributes on not just his legacy, but also on the man himself, whose 79 unbroken years of active service to firefighting may just prove to be without parallel.
For a man destined by DNA to be a firefighter — he was actually born in the old Pakenham St fire station complex in 1929 — few would even know the full extent of the man Brian Eley called dad.
Pa Eley dedicated 30 years of his retirement to being Echuca CFA’s fire investigator, closing the file on his last case from his palliative care bed in Echuca Regional Health just days before his death.
Classic Pa. Never leave a job unfinished.
But how many people in Echuca know in the 1960s Pa was also a field umpire in the then VFL — mostly in the reserves and also in feeder leagues such as Essendon and Doncaster?
“He was a fabulous dad, whatever I was into he was there for me, whether it was footy, tennis, even scouting. Dad would go on committees, help coach, was even a scout leader at one stage,” Brian says.
“When dad was involved, the job got done right. He never left anything hanging — he might have handed in his last fire report from his hospital bed, but he had earlier also given me a folder with his funeral all planned out,” he says.
“I don’t think dad ever stopped — and if anyone suggested he had ever retired you just had to laugh. And with dad you laughed a lot, he certainly had a sense of humour, and he passed that on to me.”
Yes, Pa was born in the old Pakenham St station, where his parents were the station keepers, and from where he would go on to devote a lifetime of service to his community through the CFA and Metropolitan Fire Brigade.
Service which would be recognised with an Order of Australia, National Emergency Medal, Australian Fire Service Medal and countless others, which Brian says might have accounted for his dad’s bad back, having to wear all those medals on his uniform coat.
During his 30-plus retirement years, in which he would handle more than 550 fire investigations — a community service further recognised with life membership of the Victorian Association of Fire Investigators (VAFI) — including a pivotal role in the horrendous Black Saturday fires that swept Victoria in 2009.
The humble great-great-grandfather said at the time of that award he was more “embarrassed” than anything else, even though he’s investigated so many fires.
In a Riverine Herald interview in 2019, Alan said “I asked the (VAFI) president why, and he told me: ‘we think of you as a role model as you show investigators that once they reach retirement age, they don’t have to stop’.”
When asked what kept him going, after officially joining his family in the CFA as a 14-year-old, the veteran firefighter laughed, and replied: “I suppose I’m not a person to sit still and it keeps my mind active in today’s world”.
His commitment to public service and to being a firefighter began with his parents, who were the Echuca station keepers for 32 years and it was a genuine double act.
“Dad had to go to work but somebody had to be there all the time, so mum would ring the fire bell and all that business,” Pa recalled.
Born in the Great Depression year of 1929, Pa learnt the brigade ropes younger than most, but could not formally join the brigade until 1944, taking him from the Great Depression into which he was born, to World War II, through which he lived.
Pa would join the team at Manger & O’Neil (MON), the local company which manufactured a variety of canned products, tomato sauces, soups and beverages (its soft drinks would morph into River Port Beverages). The factory was a local icon, situated in the centre of the town in a building erected in 1816. For more than a century the site remained in business.
More importantly, however, this is where Pa would first see the girl he planned to marry.
He told good friends and work colleagues Kevin Hooper, Rob Caldwell and Don Norris “she was a bit of a good looker”.
To which Don added: “And way out of your league”.
Pa loved a challenge and he and Jean married on March 24, 1951, and were inseparable until her premature death in 1989.
As another challenge, he also roped his three mates into the CFA.
Moving his family to Melbourne, Pa joined the Metropolitan Fire Brigade in 1953 and boy, things were a lot different then.
“Firefighting used to be a lot of manual work,” Pa once recalled.
“When we had house fires in the early days, smoke was not a problem. You had one-size hose and water from a hydrant.
“They would tell us ‘go in the front door through to the back door and have a spit’. But now because there’s so much plastic in houses, you can’t get through the front door without breathing apparatus.”
As a paid firefighter, Pa spent 32 years as the northern district officer, but Brian admits his father’s career almost ended before it began.
“Dad wasn’t the tallest man around, but what almost did him in was he failed the chest measurement — his chest simply wasn’t considered big enough,” Brian explains.
“But dad being dad, he went straight home, got onto a chest expander and pounded it until he more than passed the tape measure test — and the rest is history,” he says.
Once Chesty Eley got into the brigade, he quickly rose through the ranks and eventually was responsible for all the brigades in the northern district, and one of his priorities was “to make sure they were doing their drills”.
“If they had a fire and couldn’t find the cause, they’d ask the district officer to come because in those days they didn’t have a designated investigation side, so it was left to the district officer to do that job.”
And that’s how fire investigation started — eventually being accredited for structures, bushfires and vehicles.
“They were all challenging,” Pa says.
“You need to figure out where the fire started and how it started.
“If you take a house, you start at the least damaged area and work to the most damaged and that becomes your area of origin. In that, you’ve got to find the point of origin and look for indicators and various burn marks on furniture or a V-pattern going up the wall. Then you’ll find out which way the fire travelled.
“It’s the same when you go to bushfires, but you work the opposite way because most of the time with grassfires the cooler area is where it starts. As it gains momentum, it becomes hotter.”
Discovering bushfires had been deliberately lit was always hard to stomach.
“I get annoyed because a lot of them are smaller but they can take on larger fires,” he said.
“People think ‘we’ll light a little bit of grass over here’ and they get a thrill out of that and so they light a bigger one. And then they end up destroying other people’s property.”
But life on the frontline as an emergency responder wasn’t all beer and skittles — and there were no volumes of occupation health and safety protocols, or little follow-up and support after attending some truly heartbreaking and confronting scenarios, ensuring Pa had to deal with his fair share of destruction and death.
But it was the loss of young lives that hurts the most.
“There’s been a few fatal fires I’ve had to investigate, but it’s the children that really get you,” he says.
“I remember a little boy who was killed when a campfire on the Murray River burnt a caravan annex.
“Before I went to Melbourne, when I was still volunteering in Echuca, there were two children, left alone by mum and dad who’d gone to the Salvation Army hall.
“There was a fire at the house and I don’t really know what caused it but they were both killed.”
Not all tragedies he’s seen involved fire — firefighters then, as now, are called to car crashes — such as a horrific one in Blackburn that always remained near the forefront of Pa’s mind.
“The first thing we saw was the engine of this car, in the middle of the road, 100m up from the accident,” he said.
“I thought ‘how’s that?’ This car with four young fellas in it had come around the corner and hit a light pole so hard the engine catapulted out.
“Unfortunately three of them were thrown out and their remains ended up in a couple of different driveways.
“The ambulance people gave us plastic bags to pick up bits and pieces. And then we had to wash the blood off the driveways and poles.”
The fourth man also died, but his legs were stuck, so he was trapped in the car.
“The police surgeon happened to go past and we were having trouble getting his body out so he said: ‘Got a knife?’ and he cut both his legs off,” Pa recalled with a shudder.
“When I was driving back that night, I couldn’t help but think ‘I wonder what my children are doing tonight’?
“So yeah, things like that really hit you.”
And while fires are never a laughing matter, there have been some funny situations along the way.
“I went to a house fire in Brunswick and we tried to get in the front door and we’re banging and pushing on it and it just wouldn’t give, so we put the hose in the lounge room and put the fire out,” he said.
“We went round to the back door and found out this lady had collected newspapers and they were all stacked up in the passage right up against the door.
“We went in to ventilate and went into her bedroom and there was so much stuff on her double bed, she only had a tiny bit to sleep on.
“Then we went into the bathroom and there were all these empty bottles around the floor, you couldn’t walk. She was a hoarder.
“Anyway I’m outside the window of this lounge room and they’re passing the burnt furniture outside and there’s a crowd at the front gate laughing and carrying on. Then the lady behind me says ‘I’m glad I didn’t panic’ and I turned around and she’s bare from the waist up.
“The next day she came to the station all prim and proper as she was going off to work. You wouldn’t know it was the same woman.”
While for years he was Echuca’s living CFA history, Pa also had an eye on the big picture of rural and regional firefighting and was a cornerstone of the award-winning Fire Services Museum Victoria.
Opened in Melbourne in 1979, Pa says it was all about a permanent home for the firefighting story and the people whose commitment — and sacrifice — fill its chapters.
Today having Australia’s largest collection of fire brigade memorabilia, the museum is mostly staffed by retired firefighters who can add a personal touch (and a tale or two) about their service, skills and situations.
The museum will also play a role in Pa’s funeral on Tuesday, with one of its vintage vehicles taking part in the cortege.
Returning to Echuca to retire in 1984, Pa did anything but stay still.
Echuca CFA was looking for a secretary so Pa put on his volunteer hat once again.
And so did Jean, who joined the Ladies Auxiliary.
Unfortunately, she only lived for another four years before dying of a brain haemorrhage.
As difficult as it was losing the love of his life, Pa battled on, as he did with everything.
“It kept me busy. And my doctor said just keep doing it,” he said at the time.
His contribution since then never faltered and when he was called to the Black Saturday fires 10 years ago, he didn’t think twice.
“I was requested to investigate the Kilmore East fire. That was one of the first ones that kicked off,” he said.
“We spent that first day going up and down hills and what not, then police called us to Murrindindi, which was another source of a fire that took off and went.”
Pa was part of a three-man investigation team which looked into many fires to see if it was part of a larger fire front and whether they were deliberately lit.
“We traced the first one all the way back more or less to the roadside and there was a lot of controversy over what it was,” he said.
“For two weeks we travelled around the area and our team was increased to five.
“We had help from Western Australia and Queensland.
“Because of the high winds in mountainous areas, it was hard to get fire appliances in.
“(Fires) run a lot faster uphill and they’re very hard to control.”
The final death toll from Black Saturday stood at 173 people.
“There were so many unfortunate people who died as a result of the fires,” Pa said.
Not surprisingly, Pa was one of 44 CFA staff to be awarded National Emergency Medals for their service during Black Saturday.
It complemented the Australian Fire Service Medal he received in 1995, as well as the Order of Australia Medal he was awarded in 2014 for his service to the Echuca community.
And that was always Pa’s watchword — community.
“The outcome of fire investigation is to help the community by saying, for example, a particular brand of toaster has caused five fires,” he said.
“This goes back to Melbourne and they say ‘right, we’ll contact the supplier and have them withdrawn’. That’s the end result. To help the community and let them know what’s what.”
He also referred to a close call at a house in Ogilvie Ave many years ago.
“These people had just moved into a house where the hot water came from the pipes that went through the stove,” he said.
“Before they got there, the owner had put in a proper hot water service so the plumber capped off each end of the pipe going through the stove so the water didn’t go through.
“The new people decided to cook some scones in the nice wood oven, so they stocked up the oven and went in the room next door to watch TV. A little while later, there was this massive explosion and the stove blew to bits and blew a hole in the brick wall.
“There was a flash fire out of it but had they been in the kitchen, they’d all have been killed.
“Then it happened a week later in another place near Melbourne. So what went on was to the plumbers — don’t cap the pipes because there was still a little bit of water vapour in it and it couldn’t go anywhere so it expands just like a cylinder.”
It’s the satisfaction of helping the community in its time of need which makes Pa proud.
“Even when I was a professional, I still hoped I could help,” he said.
“When you have a fire, you lose everything. It’s a bit different to a flood. And it’s pretty distressing for people. And I felt if I could help them a little bit, I’m happy.”
But one of Brian’s favourite childhood memories is helping his dad play golf at Rich River — because when Pa played golf a lot of swimming was involved.
“There’s a dam, I suppose you would call it, it looked pretty big when I was a kid. It was on a par three hole and it didn’t matter what he tried, dad always put his ball in the drink,” Brian laughed. “Sometimes when he lined up a shot there, he’d look at me and say he might as well just throw it in the water to save some time.
“Every few weeks some mates and I would go swimming in the dam and collect up a heap of golf balls. We didn’t sell them back to the club, or other golfers, we gave them to dad so he had plenty to hit into the water in his next round,” he says.
Pa Eley is survived by his second wife Phyllis, and was father to Brian and father-in-law to Debbie, and father to Lorraine (deceased). He was also grandfather to Rachael, Rebecca, Rodney, Brad and Samantha, great-grandfather to Zach, Nathan, Cooper, Millie, Alysia, Nyah, Ayden, Ashton, Byron and Lucy, great-great-grandfather to Oliver and Lylah and stepfather to Phyllis’ children Paul, John and Robyn.
His funeral will be held on Tuesday, January 17, at Christ Church Anglican, 500 Hare St, at 1pm, followed by a graveside service at Echuca Cemetery. This will be followed by a wake at Echuca Bowls Club in High St.