- Mary was out cutting grass on her Talarm property when she’d gotten off her tractor to remove a hose
- To her horror, she’d forgotten to engage the brake – and the tractor began rolling down a hill
- Her leg was crushed beneath the back wheel, and for three days she clung to hope her sister in Tasmania would notice her silence
Here Mary Gibson, 85, Talarm, NSW tells her own story in her own words
Pulling on my hat and sunnies, I jumped onto my tractor and set off down the hill of my 17-acre property.
It was December 2022, and as the morning sun shone brightly, I planned to slash the grass in one of my paddocks, around 700 metres from the house.
I’d lived on the sprawling property in Talarm, NSW, for 46 years.
I sometimes had help from two farm hands who helped maintain the paddocks, but today I was alone.
As I continued down the grass I noticed a large hose in my path.
Turning off the ignition, I dismounted the tractor.
But as I went to move the hose, I suddenly saw the tractor rolling forward.
I hadn’t used the brake!
Grabbing the wheel to try to steer it away from tumbling down the hill, I pulled it hard to the left, aiming the tractor towards some native grass.
But the momentum pulled me forward, sending me crashing face down on the ground.
Within seconds, my right leg had been sucked under the back left wheel of the tractor, crushing the bones as the vehicle came to a halt.
‘Arghhh!’ I cried out, horrified by the sight of my mangled leg pinned under the 700kg machine.
In shock, I felt no pain.
And I knew panicking would only waste the energy I needed to survive.
Please, Penny, save me! I thought, thinking of my sister, my hope fading as the sun set for the second night.
I twisted my body around, desperately digging my nails into the dirt around the tyre to try and dig myself free.
But after 15 minutes, I realised it was no use as the ground was too hard.
I’ll have to wait for someone to find me, I thought, defeated.
My sister Penny, 78, who lived in Tasmania, called me every afternoon.
She’ll know something is wrong when I don’t answer, I told myself.
As the hours ticked by and the sky turned dark, my only reference to time was the bird calls, such as the laughing of a kookaburra at 7pm.
Every now and then I’d feel a pang in my leg like being bitten by jack jumper ants, but it was manageable, as long as I stayed still.
And I didn’t feel hungry, only thirsty.
I snatched a few hours of broken sleep, until I was woken by the soft patter of rain.
Water! I thought, relieved.
Reaching my left hand out from under the tractor, I cupped a few drops in my palm, which I licked up to keep hydrated.
As the sun rose the next morning, the koel bird cry told me it was around 6am.
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Thankfully the weather was much cooler, so I wasn’t concerned about getting sunburnt.
But I knew if I wasn’t found soon, I would be in big trouble.
At one point that afternoon, I heard my neighbour Peter’s car door close.
I was too far away for him to spot me, but I tried calling out.
‘Help! Peter!’ I cried, but it was no use as the wind was carrying my voice away from him.
Please, Penny, save me! I thought, thinking of my sister, my hope fading as the sun set for the second night.
The next day passed in a blur.
I must have fallen asleep at some point, but suddenly I heard the sound of muffled voices approaching.
I’m being saved, I thought, as I peeled open my eyes to see a man in uniform.
It was starting to get dark – I estimated around 6pm.
You did it Penny! I sent up a silent thanks before falling unconscious again.
When I woke, I was at John Hunter Hospital in Newcastle.
Seconds later doctors entered the room.
‘I’m sorry, Mary, but we need to amputate your leg,’ one said.
It had been crushed too badly to save.
‘I’m glad you’re alive,’ my sister said, as she filled me in on how I’d been rescued.
While it was heartbreaking news, I agreed.
When I woke from the gruelling op, my right leg had been removed above the knee.
Penny had arrived and was by my bedside.
‘I’m glad you’re alive,’ my sister said, as she filled me in on how I’d been rescued.
After I didn’t answer her call two days in a row, Penny had called the police to do a welfare check on me.
They found no sign of me at the house, or in my swimming pool, so Penny directed them to check the tractor knowing I would be in my garden mowing.
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By the time the rescuers located me on the third night, I had been trapped for 54 hours.
Using lifting equipment, members of the Talarm Rural Fire Service, police and Westpac Rescue Helicopter Service paramedics worked to free me, before flying me to hospital.
I was so thankful for all the people who’d come to my rescue.
Adjusting to life without my leg took time.
For six months I underwent rehabilitation to learn how to walk again, using my new prosthetic.
Taking my first steps, around four weeks later, I was so proud.
My friend John offered to work for me, maintaining the gardens while I recovered.
All my hard work in rehab was worth it when I finally returned home in June 2023.
Although I leave the grass slashing to my farm hands now, I can still drive, and also swim, thanks to a hoist I’ve had fitted to my pool.
To help me get around the farm, I have an electric wheelchair, so I can still tend to the garden.
I’ve been to hell and back, but it’ll take more than losing a leg to slow me down.
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