When Vincent Lingiari led 200 Gurindji, Mudburra and Warlpiri stockmen and their families away from years of exploitation and violence in protest of unfair working conditions, he wouldn't have foreseen it becoming a seminal turning point in Australian history.
But decades later, descendants like Rob Roy mark it as just that.
"Everything changed for us, everything changed for the Territory," Mr Roy, coordinator of the Gurindji Aboriginal Corporation, said.
"It opened up the gates to land rights right across the nation … [he] walked off for better education, better health, better living conditions."
Mr Roy's parents were among those that risked prison, beatings or worse on August 23, 1966 as they stopped work on Vestey Brothers' Wave Hill pastoral station and initiated one of the longest strikes in Australian history.
So today, as more than 1,000 people gather to recreate the famous walk-off on Gurindji country almost 800 kilometres from Darwin, he's celebrating on home soil.
"If it wasn't for Vincent Lingiari and those 200 men, women and children that walked off 56 years ago, this place wouldn't have been here," Mr Roy said.
The history behind the walk-off
For nearly 80 years, Aboriginal workers living under the nascent pastoral industry were subject to horrendous conditions.
In an interview in 1986, Gurindji man Mick Rangiari described the harsh ways of life for hundreds of people:
"We've been working as slaves, just for tobacco, bit of salt beef, a bucket of tea and a bit of damper — that's all.
"Good house, good everything, nah, they didn't recognise we are human being … they think of us as some dirty animal.
"So we walked away."
Dissent had begun simmering across the Northern Territory in the 1950s as companies and even the government prospered over access to cheap and local labour, Indigenous historian Don Christophersen said.
There were dozens of industrial disputes and strikes in Darwin and countless more on stations across the Territory, but it was the movement deepest in the bush that took hold.
"People had finally been given the right to vote in 1962, people had finally been given the right to walk into the pub and buy a beer in 1964, but people were still unable to attain the award wage," Mr Christophersen said.
It was the sheer number of people involved in the Wave Hill Walk-Off and their determination spanning almost a decade to not return that garnered attention — and news spread quickly.
Trailblazing activist Dexter Daniels became the main spokesman, travelling Australia to make sure the media heard the message.
"That really was sort of something that the government had to contend with," writer-historian Charlie Ward said.
"They couldn't get past it. They couldn't ignore it any longer."
What started as a battle against a pittance for pay, soon became a fight for something much, much bigger.
"We want to live on our land, our way" were the famed words of Vincent Lingiari at the time.
Today, the iconic image of then-prime minister Gough Whitlam pouring red soil into Vincent Lingiari's hand on August 16, 1975 is etched as a symbol of a turning tide.
The Gurindji people were the first to have land returned to them by the Commonwealth government, but rights over land is a battle many Aboriginal communities are still fighting for today.
Many challenges ahead
It's a lesser-known fact that people on cattle stations were not the only ones facing unfair working conditions.
"It was the nannies who looked after the kids, Aboriginal people who looked after people's houses, gardens — all these people were being underpaid in many cases," Mr Christophersen said.
Equal wages made a big difference when they were brought in, but it also meant a lot of people lost their jobs.
"They said, 'Well, why should we employ Aboriginal people, we may as well get non-Indigenous labour to come in and do it'," Mr Christophersen said.
"And they did; many Aboriginal people went from being fully employed, but underpaid, to [being on] welfare.
"We still have this issue today with workers coming from overseas and they're being underpaid … it's all about cheap labour and people making money."
Rob Roy said that while much progress had been made in 56 years, "there is still far more struggle" ahead.
"We're still fighting against the system that [forces] us to live the way we are living."
To some, including Mr Christophersen and Dr Ward, the annual Freedom Day Festival held each August should be about reflecting on the gruelling toll and honouring the legacy of those who fought for the rights of today.
Despite a voice to parliament finally gaining traction, and a referendum on it imminent, Mr Christophersen said he hoped the "old people and their story" wouldn't be clouded by the "new story".
"Leave that to other people later on," he said.
This year's event, following two cancellations due to COVID, is expected to draw more than 2,000 people.
To Mr Roy, he said this was one of the only chances his community would get to speak out and be heard.
