Photos From the Funeral of an Australian Icon

Holden has always been a symbol. Post World War II, it was a symbol for everything Australia wanted to be. Now, some 60 years later, the car industry is closing and for different people, the end means different things.

In South Australia, the death of Australia's car industry symbolises a 30-year decline in manufacturing. It will be the latest, and biggest, closure in a state that's watched areas like Leigh Creek shrivel and die, that's grappled with the prospect of losing Whyalla when Arrium pulls out, that's on the precipice of, what some have described as, a Detroit-level downturn.

The 80,000 people of Elizabeth now have front row seats for the end of Australia's only complete manufacturing industry. Running along Adelaide's northern edge, it's the city that Holden built, and the city that built Holden.

For me, having grown up in the shadow of that plant, Holden was a symbol of something bigger. It is the first in the domino chain and it is the stories of those living through it I wanted to capture in my book The Death of Holden.

Manufacturing employs 17.1 percent of the population in Elizabeth and the Holden plant was a birthright to the people who lived around it. It was a job for life for three generations where the average length of service was 15 years.

The last time a car plant closed down entirely was in 2008 when Mitsubishi closed its factory at Tonsley, south of Adelaide. A third of those laid off never worked again.

Dave Grant used to work at the Mitsubishi plant and said that just before it closed, an American CEO flew in to tell the workforce they'd have a job for 10 years. Since getting out, Dave's been working as a truck driver and said the pay is nothing like what he used to earn. He's dealing with a workplace injury and cancer.

Not everyone in Elizabeth is doing it tough, although the average annual income is $41,089 compared to $51,923 nationally. For many, manufacturing in and outside of the car industry was a way to ensure a better life for themselves or their children.

Without it, the Australian middle class will be under more pressure. According to a report by the Evatt Foundation, the top 10 percent of households have been adding to their wealth, while the middle 50 are starting to lose wealth. The bottom 40 percent have either no or negative wealth due to debt.

Many in Elizabeth belong to this bottom 40, with unemployment in the heart of Elizabeth running at 34 percent for the March quarter 2016 and some families living in the area who have not worked in three generations.

In July 2015, the neighbours were saying this house had already burned down when they moved in five years ago. It's still there over a year on, but the grass has grown longer.

"I've lived in Elizabeth for the last 40 years," said Julie. "I used to come here when Elizabeth was just a mall with a few shops. Now it's a big shopping centre. A lot of businesses are going to close when Holden goes. There's just no money out there anymore."

"I'm on disability," Julie continued. "So are my two girls and I don't know how long that is going to last until it's taken away from us. [If it is, I'll have to do] the same as everyone else: scrounge for food."

It has been said that South Australia's best hope lies in start-ups. Claude and Dave were setting up in an empty car yard across the road from the Holden plant. They're starting a business selling garden plants and computer equipment.

The story of Elizabeth is largely the same as the story of Norlane and Broadmeadows and anywhere else across Southern Australia where heavy industry used to operate but is now shutting down. The question everyone seems to be asking is, if this is what we are starting with, what is left for the next generation?

Words by Royce Kurmelovs. His book The Death of Holden is out now.