"I was basically just trying to keep people calm and stabilised until the ambos turned up," the humble Melbourne cabbie told Fairfax Media. Lou, the hero taxi driver. treats a woman on the scene. Credit:Source - Liveleak "I was thinking very clearly, I was talking to the victims, the coppers and everyone else who was trying to help. It was basically just a big team effort. I think it was just a matter of adrenaline." The story of Lou's actions came to light in a Facebook post by another man on the scene, Henry Dow, who described him as a "genuine hero". Lou had held Henry's shaking hand and told him to be strong for a woman who was badly hurt.

"Administering first aid with me, under that skinny little tree, is a man named Lou: he is everything great and courageous you have seen, heard or read, rolled into one authentically humble bloke," Henry wrote. Floral tribute at the Bourke Street Mall. Credit:Eddie Jim Henry's story about Lou has been shared more than 17,000 times. He read it out again at the vigil for the victims in Federation Square on Monday night. Like others who have spoken about what they saw last Friday, Lou said the first sign that something bad was happening came from the sound of helicopters. An image of Henry Dow and taxi driver Lou caring for a victim of the Bourke Street attack on Friday. Credit:Seven News Melbourne

As the choppers buzzed overhead, police cars began to descend with lights and sirens on. Seconds later, the car roared by at about 55 km/h, metres from hitting Lou. The car was almost close enough to touch. If a bike rack wasn't in the way, Lou said he would have jumped through the open driver's side window to try and stop the driver. There was no thought of his own safety. Henry Dow. Credit:Facebook "I saw three people flying through the air, I wasn't worried about myself," he said. But Lou's work was just beginning. He set about trying to provide treatment to the five injured people who were around him.

"Lou was not. Lou, in his white shirt and neat dark tie, was a taxi driver," wrote Henry. Lou said some military training when he was younger had prepared him for how to react to an emergency. He fetched water, provided guidance and offered calming words to those who were stricken on the footpath. The word "hero" gets thrown about a lot these days and Lou rejects the tag being applied to what he did. After a "rough night" on Friday, he has been back at work since Saturday. The media has had to find time to interview him in between fares. "I'm not a hero, I'm just a bloke who did what they had to do," he said. "If I had stopped the car, fine. But at no point was my life in danger, so I'm not a hero."

Instead, Lou said credit should go to the bystanders and first responders who stepped in to help before the full extent of the carnage was known. These included three police officers, two nurses and the orthopedic surgeon in his 50s, who used travel catalogues from RACV to stem the bleeding of a woman with a serious leg injury. "It was like a scene from M*A*S*H*, it was all teamwork," he said. "You just do what you've got to do, you do your duty first." Henry Dow's full letter

This moment already feels surreal; without the sounds of violence, rush of adrenaline and smell of fear the photo doesn't look real. The images playing in my head are more vivid and more colourful. This image looks so orderly; no rushing, no shaking hand and quivering voice, no screams, crashes or bangs. I write this not for sympathy (I'm fine); I just wanted to share a story that otherwise might be lost. Administering first aid with me, under that skinny little tree, is a man named Lou: he is everything great and courageous you have seen, heard or read, rolled into one authentically humble bloke. Having seen the car fly past, my legs carried me across the street almost on auto-pilot, swearing under my breath repeatedly as it sunk in what had just happened. Some basic Surf Life Saving training got me through the first stages of helping this poor woman: role her on her side, support her neck, we talked kindly and as calmly as we could to her. Then the gunshots.

Holding her head, my hand was, for want of a better word, shaking. It was more like bouncing, moving several inches up and down as the fear and thoughts of what had happened, what could happen, raced through my head. Lou grabbed my hand and firmly told me to keep it together, that I was ok and that we needed to keep strong for this woman. In a level and loud voice, Lou barked orders at other pedestrians standing by, having not fled, but still too stunned to think or move. He directed assistance to several of the victims laying on the pavement around us, all whilst keeping me calm and speaking lovingly to this woman: "I am Lou, you are going to be ok, we are looking after you". It kept going through my head, "thank f**k I lucked out and have an emergency services veteran here with me". Surely Lou was Ambulance, Police or SAS. Lou was not.

Lou, in his white shirt and neat dark tie, was a taxi driver. In our small story, of this much bigger tragedy, Lou took command and was a genuine hero. We have all seen images and opinions flood the media over the past 24 hours. If you feel like shaking your head and feeling sad for the state of humanity, I implore you: Don't. Their was no evil on Bourke street yesterday; one sick young man did a terrible thing, and hundreds responded with the love and sense of community that makes Melbourne such a beautiful city, and Victoria such a great State. There was only kindness in the voices of the police who came to relieve us.

I felt only love when an older man hugged me, having just told a father he had lost a daughter. Many images and sounds will stay with me much longer than I might like, but I am glad to have seen, and hope I never forget, just how brave and loving strangers can be. Daniel Andrews, our capital city owes a great debt of gratitude to Lou for what he did yesterday. I love this city.