- A farm accident took place in march last year when George Ross, 77, from Denmark, WA, was crushed by several hundred kilo bale of cattle feed
- He was then rushed to hospital for his injuries
- Now, he’s back on the farm and even enjoying country dancing in town every Saturday night
Here he shares his own story in his own words.
Roaming around the farm in my tractor, I breathed in the fresh country air.
‘Hey mates!’ I rallied the cattle for a feed.
It was March 2024 and, despite working on the land for more than 50 years, my 220-acre farm was my slice of paradise.
A cattle breeder, I’d spend every day tending to my herd of 90, distributing feed and fertiliser, repairing fencing, and other general maintenance.
While I drove the tractor, my son Rodney, 52, was driving our truck.
‘The massive bales weighed hundreds of kilos.’
In the back of the truck were six bales of feed – a mixture of fermented grass perfect for cattle to munch on. The massive bales weighed anywhere between 500 and 600 kilos.
As we both came to a stop, I saw the cattle coming in too close to the truck.
‘Get away, lads,’ I said, hopping off my tractor and shooing the curious animals away. Distracted by the hungry cows, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was standing.
I had my back facing the rear of the truck when I was suddenly slammed to the ground.
Unable to move, I could see that a giant bale had landed on my legs. I’d been crushed by cattle feed.
‘Rodney summoned superhuman strength.’
I was in agony as Rodney raced to my side, panicked.
Somehow, he summoned superhuman strength to push the humungous bale off of me.
I gasped with relief as the pressure was released from my lower body.
‘I’m so sorry!’ Rodney said, explaining he’d thought the area was clear, and that I was aware the bales were being released from the truck.
‘It’s not your fault,’ I assured him.
I could still feel my legs, which meant I thankfully wasn’t paralysed!
Despite Rodney’s protests, I dragged myself backwards on my bum the couple of metres to get to the truck.
I tried to lift myself up by gripping onto the front wheel but there was not enough power in my legs.
Meanwhile, the curious cattle inched closer. Terrified I’d be trampled to death, Rodney rushed over to lift me to safety.
Putting his arms around my body, somehow he lifted my 85-kilo frame into the passenger seat of the truck, about a metre off the ground.
‘You’ve got a nasty injury on your left leg,’ Rodney pointed out.
Looking down, I was shocked to see a six-inch lump of meat had been blown out of my left leg from the impact of the massive bale.
‘A wave of pain washed over me.’
Meanwhile, Rodney had hopped into the driver’s seat and was driving us to our neighbour’s to get a car and transport me to hospital more comfortably and a lot faster.
Switching over to the other vehicle, a wave of pain washed over me.
I cringed as my body tensed and ached.
We sped to Denmark hospital, 30 kilometres away, where I was thankfully given pain meds.
Moments later, I was put into an ambulance and rushed to a more equipped hospital in Albany. Rodney followed in the car.
There doctors confirmed I’d broken my collarbone, my pelvis and two vertebrae in my spine.
‘No wonder I’m so sore,’ I winced.
The Royal Flying Doctor Service airlifted me to Royal Perth Hospital shortly after.
There, they put me in a neck and back brace to keep everything in place.
I also had numerous stitches in my leg to piece it back together.
I’m so lucky the bale only got my legs, I thought, realising it could’ve all been over!
If the cattle feed crushed my entire body, I would’ve been flattened like a pancake.
For the next nine weeks, nurses monitored me and changed the dressings on my leg, before I began physio.
Then finally I was discharged to come home in June that year.
‘I felt like the luckiest guy on earth.’
Back home at the farm, I felt like the luckiest guy on earth.
Rodney is now in charge of running the farm, but I still help out where needed, such as feeding the cattle, despite the traumatic accident!
A year on from my accident, I still have some discomfort in my right foot.
But it doesn’t stop me from my new-found hobby – dancing!
Every Saturday night, I do country dancing with other bachelors, and some lovely single women in my age group, at a few venues in town.
I find it’s a great way to enjoy the company of others.
Life’s too short not to enjoy it, I often think.
Everyone says I’m a tough old bugger, but I’m just grateful to still be here.
I feel like the luckiest person on the planet.
