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Just Nat: Life in the fast lane with Natalie Lowndes
Just Nat: Life in the fast lane with Natalie Lowndes
Just Nat: Life in the fast lane with Natalie Lowndes
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Just Nat: Life in the fast lane with Natalie Lowndes

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The official biography of Nat Lowndes: first wife of Australian V8 motor racing champion Craig Lowndes.


Author, Natalie Kile, presents the intriguing life of Nat Lowndes through interviews with Nat, photographs, researched narrative, and interviews with people close to Nat - including Bev Brock, Helen Lowndes (

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJul 12, 2022
ISBN9780645502428
Just Nat: Life in the fast lane with Natalie Lowndes
Author

Natalie Kile

Natalie Kile has a Bachelor of Journalism from Qld University of Technology. While working as a freelance journalist to get a 'foot in the door', she trained as a Motorcycle Instructor to pay the bills.At 24 years old, she was hit by a car and would spend the next year in recovery, sustaining injuries until today.Her career took a different trajectory - Business Admin, Mystery Shopper and Queensland manager of Motoring Women where her tasks included teaching women how to change tyres.Natalie's favourite quote is, 'Life isn't about finding yourself; it's about creating yourself,' - Bernard Shaw.Her first ever job was to make her grandfather laugh by telling a good story. When he died, she stopped telling those stories.As a teenager she loved cars and bikes, a love that's never left her. She has since become a mother of two beautiful children. One morning, she woke up with a life-altering thought; she decided to go back to her first ever job - making people laugh and telling good stories.Natalie lives in South East Queensland with her two daughters.

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    Book preview

    Just Nat - Natalie Kile

    1

    FRESH UNDIES PLEASE

    ––––––––

    I can remember the sounds. Beep, beep... beep, beep. It was never-ending. It wasn’t just the sounds of the machines that my body was attached to, it was the other bodies that surrounded me, connected to various machines. I knew something wasn’t right. I did wonder whether this was IT for me? The last hurrah!

    ––––––––

    THESE are the words Natalie Lowndes shares with me when I press record on our first interview. I’m pinching myself I’m here—that someone I admire trusts me to tell her story. I’m Natalie Kile, and I first met Nat when she worked at my parents’ electronics shop as a teenager. Like so many others, I later became a fan of Craig Lowndes and all that he did for Australia through his successes in motorsport. I marvelled at the connection that Natalie Lowndes developed with fans, and how well suited her and Craig appeared to be.

    Along with the rest of Australia I was stunned when they divorced after 14 years of marriage. I continued to follow Nat, as did thousands of others, and admired the grace she showed following her breakup. I thoroughly enjoyed her Facebook updates about her little family’s adventures during their post-break-up year travelling around Australia. When her followers prompted her to write a book, I thought, why not? It turns out a fellow bogan who grew up in the same town and went on to be a journalist resonated for Nat. I reached out to her, and long story short, here we are.

    Nat has agreed to this book on the basis that I remain true to who she is. And who is she? She’s a mum, a horse lover, wickedly funny, proud bogan, charismatic, pragmatic, humble, adventurous, a defender, and someone who fronts up. Right now she’s passionate about the benefits of camping for mental health, and negotiating with her local Council to allow campers to stay on her property. She might refer to herself as Just Nat, but there’s a bold and interesting woman attached to those two words.

    I bring you Natalie Lowndes’ story in her words, through interviews with people close to her – including Helen Lowndes, Jill Johnson, Bev Brock, Alyson Faulkner, best friend Flav, and other sources. Some information is summarised by me, and direct quotes from Nat are the italicised sections.

    You’ll go behind the scenes of the V8 motorsport industry, marvel at what the world can offer when a person takes chances, speculate at life’s cruelty, fall in love at kindness.

    I do have a confession. Whilst I am Nat’s biographer, first and foremost, I am Nat’s friend. Writing an unbiased account of her life was never going to be easy for me. It was my aim to write the book that tells the story, not the book that sells the story. I believe ‘click bait’ headlines deny an audience those stories that truly matter. You be the judge as to how well I succeeded.

    Buckle up ... you’re in for a bumpy, thrilling ride.

    ––––––––

    Nat Lowndes

    I knew those noises meant that everyone was fighting something. I was in so much pain; the kind of pain that brings you in and out of consciousness.

    It was August 2010 and I lay in my hospital bed in the Intensive Care Unit at the Caboolture Hospital. I had this insane feeling of being alone, and yet I was surrounded by other human beings. All the patients in ICU at that time... we weren’t fighting to be the best, to win the race or to stand on a podium and get that big arse trophy. It wasn’t a race against anyone or anything. It was a race against time. We were fighting to survive.

    The first 24 hours were the hardest. I wanted to run away and be with my kids, Levi and Chilli. I knew they would be scared. I was too. I was scared of what would happen to them if I wasn’t around anymore. They were five and seven years old at the time and I was desperate to see them, to know they were okay.

    I suggested to a nurse that after the next bag of blood (transfusion), I could go home and get my local doctor to do it. She touched my arm and said, ‘Sweety, you’re not out of the woods yet. Your job right now is to lay still and let us help you. I don’t want you to move, sit up or do anything. Here’s your buzzer, press this button when you need anything. Close your eyes and get some sleep.’

    No food, no water, and a catheter for the next seven days. Tubes everywhere, heart monitors, bags of IV drugs and bags of donated blood. I must have been pretty sick because I did what I was told.

    That first night was an eye opener. I think someone died or nearly didn’t make it. I remember coming in and out of a trance to machines going off and nurses and doctors running around all over the place. It was like I was in a NCIS episode with Abby Sciuto in that white overcoat. But I couldn’t pause or fast forward.

    The next morning, I was unsettled and trying my hardest to be positive. I’m not a needy person, never have been. From a very early age, my brother Dean and I worked out quickly that we had to be self-sufficient and look after each other.

    I needed to see my kids. I was helpless to them and that was not a feeling that I was used to. I had a famous husband who had a public profile and was consumed by his craft. Parallel to his career, I put all my focus on the kids to protect them. They were born into the public limelight and there’s sometimes a downside to that life. I was the constant in their lives, and I was worried how they were getting on without me.

    On top of that, I really needed fresh undies. There’s nothing worse than having to wear what they give you in hospital. I needed my pillow too. The crunchy, plastic ones you get in hospital just don’t cut it.

    I stared at the walls a hell of a lot. I didn’t watch TV. Time went slowly. I was calm. I was consumed by silence, my own silence. I remember thinking that perhaps I needed this moment to stop and think. Even before finding myself in an intensive care ward, it had felt like I was the only thing holding our little Lowndes’ family unit together.

    Then in walks CL, the legend that was my husband, Craig Lowndes: famous V8 supercar driver, the People’s Champion, the father of my children, the love of my life.

    I’d been calling him CL for years because I found it easier in public. When you say CL it sounds like Seal. If we were busy out and about shopping or whatever, and there were fans within earshot, which there generally were, it would make them think twice about whether he really was Craig Lowndes.

    CL came to my bedside and said, ‘You okay?’

    ‘Apparently not,’ I smiled at him. ‘Doesn’t look real good. Why do you look like death warmed up?’

    ‘I’m a little hungover. I had some people over last night,’ he said.

    He didn’t need to say more. My hospital room smelt like a brewery the moment he walked in.

    ‘Where are the kids?’ I asked.

    ‘Mum’s looking after them because I have stuff to do at the team. Do you mind if I take off to Rocky with a mate for a few days and watch a motocross event?’

    I felt quite deflated, disappointed that while I was in Intensive Care my husband thought he would continue with his calendar, instead of spending quality time with our kids to make sure they were okay and reassure them that their mother would be fine.

    My husband was very dedicated and loyal to his craft, as a person has to be to rise to the pinnacles of success that Craig reached. But in that moment I realised how far we had actually drifted apart.

    ‘You do what you think is the right thing to do CL,’ I said.

    I had a hematoma on my spleen. It was 15cm x 9cm and I had serious internal bleeding. My belly was sloshy with blood and I was white as a ghost. Living remotely in Kilcoy in Queensland, I was lucky it didn’t rupture at home, as that might have had grave consequences.

    For seven days I was restricted to a hospital bed in ICU. I had three blood transfusions and was under 24/7 surveillance. My closest friends were there for support and I thank them dearly, to this day. Everything happens for a reason and I was forced to re-evaluate everything around me, including who the most important people in my life were at that time.

    One of those people that touched my life was the ICU nurse who looked after me in hospital. Terry Wilkinson is an amazing person who does an amazing job as a nurse. It takes a special person to be a nurse—I don’t reckon it’s a job for everyone.

    ––––––––

    Terry Harmony Wilkinson, Intensive Care Nurse

    ‘When Nat first arrived in ICU I don’t think she had any idea of her condition. She knew she was sick because she couldn’t move much and was in a lot of pain, but she didn’t really know how sick she actually was. That’s typical of most patients. Often, I find a person feels sick and ends up in hospital and hears words like ‘swine flu’ or ‘melanoma’ or ‘cancer’ but it doesn’t sink in at first. I don’t think patients accept how sick they truly were, until after they recover and look back on the experience, if they recover. If a patient meets an Intensive Care Nurse, they’re seriously ill.

    ‘I saw Nat five nights out of the seven she was in hospital. One of the roles of a nurse is to allow a patient to talk and be that shoulder for them, especially at a time when they’re so vulnerable. In my opinion, a nurse’s advocacy is critical to a patient’s wellbeing and recovery. Nat and I bonded from the start. I think she could feel my compassion and we were both grappling with marriage and what it meant in our personal lives. We had deep conversations about life, its meaning, and the men in our lives. Nat was vulnerable and sick and she poured everything out to me. My profession is bound by confidentiality, so I was somebody she could confide in. Because I showed I cared and I wasn’t from the world of V8s and I didn’t know anything about her world, I think she could be herself – raw, unaffected, this is me and this is what I feel. We talked about those uncensored feelings. Nat is strong, but she’s still vulnerable, she can still get hurt.

    ‘I never met Craig Lowndes. Nat got better and left the hospital but she still had a lot of healing to do. We kept in touch.’

    ––––––––

    Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t as sick as some of the other patients around me. There were victims of car accidents, victims of diseases like cancer, some in immense pain and some even screaming, all sorts of problems. Being surrounded by all that suffering, well it was enough to make me stop and think about the meaning of life.

    I’m not a religious person, I don’t believe in any one God. I do believe that when you get a second chance at life, you take the bull by the horns and you live it. We never know what life will throw our way. What’s going to happen tomorrow or the next day or years from now.

    So far I had had a great life. My childhood was challenging, but hey, didn’t that make me the person I am today?

    I reflected on my life and how I got to this point. The wife of a famous racing car driver, but all alone in a hospital bed. A mother to a pair of beautiful kids, wishing I could say to them, ‘everything’s going to be alright’. Only now I wasn’t sure of anything.

    I was in the pits and I was broken. My gearbox had thrown a few cogs and mechanics were left scratching their heads.

    2

    ON THE STARTING LINE

    ––––––––

    NATALIE Mary Pusell rushed into the world on 7th September, 1973 at the Gladstone District Hospital, in the very early hours of the morning. Her parents, William John Pusell (or Bill, now deceased) and Bernadette Mary Theresa Carmel Pusell (Bernie) were parents for the second time. Older brother, Dean Brett Pusell, was almost two years older and would remain Nat’s only sibling.

    Bill Pusell was from Kandos in New South Wales, while Bernie grew up in Orbost in far Eastern Victoria.

    ––––––––

    Nat Lowndes

    Mum and Dad met at the pub at Orbost. For many years my mother’s family owned the bottom pub there. They had a farm with crops and kept horses and cattle. Mum was the bartender and Dad was down that way, working on the roads. After they married, my parents moved around a lot following construction work because Dad worked in that industry. Then they settled for a while in Gladstone, where I was born.

    I don’t know why my parents didn’t visit the family much and I was always afraid to ask. Mum and Dad were very, very private people. They kept pretty much to themselves. They made sure my brother and I understood that too. We knew we had to keep things within our four walls.

    ––––––––

    NAT’S first childhood memories are of growing up in Kallangur, North of Brisbane, in sunny Queensland. Kallangur was a stable, affordable base for the Pusell family of four. Bill and Bernie purchased their first home, a moderate 2-storey brick house on a large suburban block, and Bill worked in the construction and road building industry.

    At age five, Nat attended the local Catholic primary school, Our Lady of The Way, Petrie. Nat’s parents were devout Catholics, and Nat and her brother, Dean, attended Church every Sunday although Nat didn’t like doing so. Fond memories included riding her pushbike to and from primary school with her older brother. The one-way journey from Duffield Road, Kallangur to near the Petrie Railway Station, was 5km. Riding to and from school, the pair felt a sense of freedom; escape from their household environment. From an early age, Nat knew that her parents were big drinkers.

    ––––––––

    In those days we didn’t need to wear helmets and there were no bike pathways. We’d ride beside trucks going down hills, on skinny roads with barely any room for our bikes. We did it almost every day; rain, hail or shine.

    I was 5-years-old when I realised my parents enjoyed their Passion Pop a bit too much. I’m not sure what drove my parents to drink every day. I knew this wasn’t normal, but I couldn’t tell anyone because it was drilled into me that our family life was private. I never knew what I’d walk into at home after school. It was like being a cat on a hot tin roof.

    Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want people to feel sorry for me, because I know there are people out there who had a way worse childhood than me. I don’t like to say it was a bad childhood. I did learn a lot and this helped me become a resilient person. It wasn’t the happiest childhood but I wasn’t always unhappy either. I would describe my childhood as challenging.

    ––––––––

    PERHAPS growing up in a family that kept things private later equipped Natalie Lowndes with the tools to be a wife and mother in the eyes of the public. As serendipity would have it, Nat’s children would also have an unusual childhood, albeit in a different form.

    In adulthood, Nat learned that her grandfather was the victim of a terrible accident, forcing her Dad, a young Bill, to take on the role of the man of the house when his unemployed father slipped into alcoholism after losing his leg. Indicative of the poverty-stricken house, Bill didn’t get his own bed until he turned 15.

    ––––––––

    When my grandfather became incapacitated, Dad took on the role of looking after the other siblings. He’d sometimes shoot rabbits to make sure there was food for dinner. There were three siblings and I think they all had a tough time. Dad had all these problems in his life. Bad things can happen in life and people can experience some horrible things. But I believe, at the end of the day, you’re either a victim or a survivor. It’s your choice which path you take.

    At times, my Dad was rough on my brother and me. His way of dealing with the past was to turn to a glass bottle.

    ––––––––

    NAT describes how, as young observers to their parents’ lives, she and her brother Dean adopted the mentality that no matter how difficult their lives were it was up to them to use the opportunity and make it good.

    Nat says her father Bill was a good provider for his family. She has fond memories of an old black and white television being upgraded to a colour one before most of her schoolmates.

    ––––––––

    I loved watching the TV show, Married with Children, and anything with the actor Chevy Chase in it. Dad loved the guy. It was one of the few things we did together. We watched them all. I got a bit addicted to Prisoner... remember that old soapie? I’d wait until Mum and Dad were asleep, because it was on late and we didn’t have a recording device back then. I’d watch it with the sound turned right down and my ear pressed up against the speaker. I was super excited to see it in colour on the new TV.

    ––––––––

    NATALIE Pusell was an above average student during her primary school years. Her report cards show an above average student of maths; with several awards achieved during primary school. Nat says numbers ‘just make sense’ to her. Her marks at school were as a result of enjoying time in her room, which she says forced her to do homework, extra study and a bit of dancing. Music was a form of escapism. She particularly enjoyed the ‘spellathon’ which usually funded equipment the school needed.

    In childhood, keeping with her parents’ wishes to stay private, Nat focussed on quality, rather than quantity, of friendships.

    ––––––––

    I recorded my voice on a tape recorder saying all those words and spelling them letter by letter. Every night I would go through that whole tape five or six times to test myself. I used to do a lot of extra homework because I could stay in my room and keep busy. I’ve never been a big reader and didn’t read many books. I did read all those children’s encyclopaedias. We had those Childcraft ones. They were like the poor man’s Brittanica. I read them all the time. Levi and Chilli laughed when I showed them the books and explained that back in the day they were my version of Google. My mother wrapped them up and gave them to Levi and Chilli for Christmas one year.

    I had one really close friend at primary school – Linda Chalmers. We’re still friends today. Her parents lived across the road from the school right near

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