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Investigative Feature: Survivors of the Harcourt bushfire return to a landscape of miracles and devastation, with 50 homes destroyed and a community rallying to rebuild from the ashes.

Peter Suelzle stands in the driveway of what used to be his neighborhood, holding a pair of brass numbers—4 and 2—that were once attached to his gate post. The post itself is gone, incinerated by a firestorm that burned with the ferocity of a blast furnace. But behind him, amidst a moonscape of smoking ruins and twisted metal, his house still stands.
The survival of the Suelzle home on Coolstore Road is one of the few mercies in a disaster that has ripped the heart out of the small Victorian town of Harcourt. "It's a miracle bookended by disaster," Peter says, his face smeared with soot. "My neighbor to the left lost everything. The neighbor to the right lost everything. The fire just... skipped us."
Residents describe the fire’s arrival not as a creeping threat, but as an explosion. Driven by 90km/h northerly winds, the blaze jumped the Calder Highway, spotting kilometers ahead of the main front. "We didn't have time to think," recalls Lynne, Peter’s wife. "One minute it was smoke on the horizon, the next minute the trees were exploding like bombs."
The speed of the destruction is evident in the debris. Cars are melted into puddles of aluminum on driveways. Sheds have buckled into unrecognizable sculptures. In some properties, even the brickwork has crumbled from the intense heat.
Emergency Management Commissioner Tim Wiebusch confirmed that at least 50 homes have been destroyed in the Ravenswood and Harcourt area alone. This figure is expected to rise as assessment teams push deeper into cut-off areas. Among the victims are CFA (Country Fire Authority) volunteers who were out fighting to save other people's homes while their own burned to the ground.
Despite the devastation, the spirit of Harcourt remains unbroken. At a town hall meeting, residents hugged and wept, but also began planning the cleanup. "We are tough people," Peter Suelzle said, placing the brass numbers on a charred stump. "We will put these numbers back up. We are not going anywhere."
As the smoke clears, the residents of Coolstore Road face a grim new reality: living in a ghost town where every blackened tree is a reminder of the night the world burned.
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