They'll make good on this

I want to tell you about an incestuous little shire hamlet with a dull and colourless history.
Hugging a stretch of bitumen ribbon that ploughs its way through, across and around the Darling Range, are an oddment of service stations and rammed-earth buildings that serve as general stores, stock feeders and nurseries. This is the place I grew up. Or rather, it's the nearest bit of something that resembled civilisation when I was a child. The "village" was about five kilometres from the farm that was my world for the first 19 years of my life.
The only evidence I was ever there (apart from the long memories of the aged among the other long-established district families) is a bit of gold gilt on a primary school honourboard.
The place is Gidgegannup: A hitherto unremarkable centre of almost no interest set deep in the Perth hills on a goat-track of a road between the city and... (is there a name for the bit that isn't city?).
They no longer live on the farm (which sold last year for $1.5million or something site unseen from a buyer on the internet from the Eastern States and is nothing like the amount the olds got for it) but my grandparents are still up there. They're one of the rusted-on set up there. If it weren't for them I would never go to the place.
Gidgegannup is the sort of place where if people failed to get out before the trainline closed down, then they just stayed in-situ and began a breeding program.
Until now Gidgegannup has been fleetingly famous as:
a) the place Dan Hatch left
b) somewhere people drive through
c) somewhere to search for escaped prisoners from Wooroloo Prison
d) somewhere where the main tourist attraction is a slight (three foot) waterfall
e) being the only town in Australia where the local pub is located exactly 5km out of town (it's at the waterfall).
But today everything changed.
Today Australia's most famous touring car driver, Peter Brock, came to his untimely demise on one of the roads in the district.
This may sound callous, but the town will make good on this. And I'm not just talking feeding the media crews and mourners for the next few weeks.
They're just as likely to change the postcode to include an "05" and erect a bloody big sign saying "Brockie died here". They'd be tasteless enough to plant a tree in memoriam. Gidgegannup people are the kind of people to capitalise on this experience.
I know the road in question. I know the place where the rally was happening. So does everyone in the district. I can just here them down at the CWA.
"It's always been a dangerous corner, that one. It'd never happen to a local boy."
"I'd certainly never take that corner at speed. Trap for young players."
"That's nine we've lost on that stretch I can recall."
"Silly man, the camber or the road is out just there... tree roots as well. Honkynuts."
Me personally? This effects me on two levels. Firstly, Brockie was my Dad's absolute hero. He loved him. Idolised him for as long as I can remember. So that's very sad.
Secondly, it's great way to introduce my hometown into the documentary. At least people will think they've heard of the place. (See, I told you Gidge people were the kind to capitalise on it).