In Mathoura, a small rural village 250 miles north of Melbourne, there is a fence covered with thousands of bras.
For passers-by, the bra fence is a kind of spectacle and a bit of a mystery at first.
“Some of them say they’re climbing the small road uphill and it just stands out. And then they have to stop and find out,” Sharnie Celli tells ABC RN’s Earshot.
But for the locals, the fence is a reminder of how the people of Mathoura have come together to help each other in times of need.
Sharnie started the fence almost four years ago. Back then, it was just a bra.
“A cheeky green with frogs,” he says.
“That’s what Wendy was all about.”
Fun and cheeky, just like Wendy
Wendy Nikolovski died of breast cancer in 2017. She was one of Sharnie’s closest friends.
After Wendy’s death, Sharnie wanted to do something to honor her friend and also give others a chance to remember those they had lost to cancer.
He came up with the idea of a bra fence after seeing a travel program on a similar fence in Cardrona, Central Otago, New Zealand, which began in the late 1990s.
“I liked the idea because it was fun, different and cheeky, just like Wendy.”
But he says it wasn’t as easy to take off as he had imagined.
“[I was] trying to find a fence to hang the bras on, “he says.
Ann Robertson hates seeing what cancer does to people. “What can you do besides be there for them?” (ABC Goulburn Murray: Charmayne Allison)
In the end, Ann Robertson, a local in Mathoura, voluntarily offered the fence of her property.
For Ann, honoring Wendy was a no-brainer.
Wendy and her husband owned the Mathoura post office where many of the locals did their banking, and Ann says her friend always had a positive impact on the city.
“Even when I was battling cancer, I still had a smile on my face and went to work every day while I could still do it,” says Ann.
“[Wendy] it did not stop. He raised money for the skate park. He was involved in anything that was fundraising and was a very community-oriented person. “
For many people, hanging a bra on the fence has been a great way to remember the dead from cancer. (ABC Goulburn Murray: Charmayne Allison)
“I don’t think anyone has a bad word to say about her. [She was] just a beautiful person that I miss so much. “
Although the supporters of the Cardrona fence were cleaned up after the council considered the fence to be a disgrace, Mathoura is another story.
The locals are proud of the fence, and the bras have multiplied.
“We got to about 750 and stopped counting,” Sharnie says.
“Everyone we’ve met is very grateful we did.”
In addition to the thousands of bras, there is a donation can attached to the fence. It’s there for anyone who wants to give a dollar or two.
Sharnie and Ann use the money to buy gas vouchers and food for the cancer treatment premises. Many face a two-hour trip to Bendigo or a three-and-a-half hour trip to Melbourne several times a week.
“It’s about making their lives a little easier,” Ann says.
Since its inception, the fence has raised more than $ 20,000 and has supported more than 30 community members.
“I’m that cancer patient”
Like other Mathoura residents, Tim Starkey knew what a bra fence meant.
So when his father returned home one night and gave him some vouchers, he didn’t want to take them away at first.
Tim Starkey says the bra closure was a good place to go back when he was going through chemotherapy. (ABC Goulburn Murray: Charmayne Allison)
“I’m sure Dad went to the gas station. [she’d] he said, ‘Take them home and use them as you wish.’
Tim sent a message to Ann to thank her, but admitted that he had a high guard.
“I was thinking to myself, ‘Shit, I’m that cancer patient now. I’m the person the community is looking at … or trying to help.’
“Every time I walked into the chemotherapy room, I thought about the people in the community who had been suffering from this disease,” says Tim. (Provided by: Tim Starkey)
Tim was diagnosed with testicular cancer in late 2019. He was 33 years old. I already knew how terrible cancer can be; her dwarf had died of breast cancer three years earlier.
The diagnosis severely affected him and his family. And he says he kept hitting him.
“You’re going to a party, you’re going to have a good time and you’re talking and drinking … and then you’re going to think, ‘I have cancer.'”
Amid invasive tests, surgeries, and chemotherapy treatments, Tim says he quickly realized he needed any help he could get. He considered himself fortunate to have the city by his side.
Ann says Mathoura is special like that.
“I don’t know what the other peoples are like, I’m sure they stay together in times of need, but here we do it, for sure,” he says.
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For Tim, the community and his dwarf were never far from his thoughts.
“[My nan] I struggled for six years and came in with boxing gloves on, ready to get the shit out of this thing, ”he says.
With the help of a team of chemotherapy doctors and nurses, whom she describes as “very special people,” she did just that.
In January 2021, after more than 12 months of treatment, Tim’s GP told him he had no cancer.
After all the support from the community and the family that Tim received, he decided to make that January trip only with the doctors.
“I wasn’t excited then, but I got in the car and before I could call my mom, dad or anyone, I sat in the car and yelled,” he says.
“It was just the massive relief of, I’ll be alive,” he says.
Wendy (left) finds Mathoura “much missed”, but the bra fence ensures that her community spirit continues. (Provided by: Sharnie Celli (pictured right))
Unfortunately, not everyone survives, but Sharnie tells Mathoura that this has not stopped people from returning to the community.
Some people they have supported have asked for donations to the bra fence instead of flowers.
“They wrote it in their will and they have the donation box at the funeral,” he says.
“It’s just the community. These people, even at the height of their illness, are still thinking about how they can help others.”
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