💔 He lost his 18-year-old daughter… Now Lily Hooper’s heartbroken father has one emotional message for the NSW Premier
💔 He lost his 18-year-old daughter… Now Lily Hooper’s heartbroken father has one emotional message for the NSW Premier.
After the devastating hiking tragedy in Nattai National Park, Lily’s family has been left trying to process an unimaginable loss.
Her father says the pain of losing her is impossible to put into words.
“It’s just so sad that she’s gone. I feel blessed we had her in our lives for a time.” 😢
But through his grief, the devastated father has now made a heartfelt plea to NSW Premier Chris Minns — hoping something meaningful could come from the tragedy that took his daughter’s life.
💔 What exactly is he asking for, and why does he believe Lily’s death should lead to change?
👇 His emotional plea and the heartbreaking message behind it are in the comments.
In the quiet suburb of Oakdale, south-west of Sydney, a family is learning how to live with an absence that will never be filled. Jim Hooper, father of 18-year-old Lily Hooper, has spoken publicly about the loss of his daughter with a mixture of profound sadness and quiet gratitude. “It’s just so sad that she’s gone,” he said. “I feel blessed we had her in our lives for a time.”
Lily disappeared on 12 August 2026 while on what was meant to be a day hike along the challenging Bonnum Pic Trail in Nattai National Park. Her body was found eight days later in dense bushland after one of the largest multi-agency searches in recent New South Wales history. The discovery ended an agonising wait for her parents, Jim and Kirrily, and her siblings, but it also opened a new chapter of grief mixed with a determination that her short life should leave a lasting mark.
A Father’s Portrait of His Daughter
Jim Hooper has described Lily as unstoppable and fearless. “She just loved the outdoors. She just had so many skills that, you know, we tried to install in her. Yeah, she was just a clever kid who wasn’t afraid to take anything on. That was her free spirit,” he said.
Lily worked as a tour guide on the Sydney Harbour Bridge Climb, a job that suited her adventurous personality. She had already completed a three-day hike of Mount Kosciuszko at Easter. When she set out for Nattai National Park that Wednesday morning, her parents tried not to worry excessively. Yet Jim admitted he had always carried a quiet concern about her solo excursions into remote country. “I was always concerned about her going out,” he said.
Like many teenagers, Lily was confident in her own abilities. Jim recalled earlier conversations in which he had tried to impress upon her the importance of bush safety. Those talks, he said, sometimes ended in the familiar teenage response of “what do you know, Dad?” The memory now carries an extra weight.
The Eight-Day Ordeal
When Lily failed to return by nightfall on 12 August, panic set in. Her car was found locked and empty near the trailhead. What followed was an exhaustive search involving nearly 1,000 people — police, State Emergency Service volunteers, Rural Fire Service personnel and Australian Army support — across some of the most difficult terrain in the Southern Highlands.
For Jim, Kirrily and the rest of the family, each day brought a fresh cycle of hope and dread. They prepared for every possibility. On the night she went missing they had even bought her favourite Tim Tams, half-expecting to find her stranded but unharmed. As the days stretched on, the waiting became almost unbearable. Kirrily later described the surreal quality of those evenings, when the family would return home knowing another night had passed with Lily still somewhere in the bush.
Then came the cruel communication error on the morning of 20 August. Searchers located Lily’s body in thick scrub. In the confusion of radio traffic and dense terrain, information reached the family — and eventually Premier Chris Minns — suggesting she had been found alive. For a brief, heartbreaking window of time, hope flared. Jim and Kirrily allowed themselves to believe their daughter was coming home. Minutes later that hope was extinguished.
Jim has been clear that he holds no anger toward the police, the SES or the Premier over the mistake. “No, not at all. I’m not in any way angry at the police or the police commissioner or the premier,” he said. Instead he has expressed gratitude that the search teams never gave up. “They threw the kitchen sink at finding Lily.”
A Simple Request to the Premier
In the days after Lily’s body was recovered, Jim made a modest but deeply personal request of Premier Chris Minns. He asked that the state flag be flown at half-mast as a tribute to his daughter.
“If Chris Minns could organise probably to get the flag put at half-mast for her,” Jim said. “Oh, just as a tribute to Lily. You know, like I say, she’s an advocate for young women.”
The request was not framed as a demand but as a quiet hope that the state might publicly acknowledge a young woman who embodied the kind of adventurous, outdoor spirit many parents want to encourage in their children. Lily had worked on one of Sydney’s most iconic landmarks. Flying the flag at half-mast, particularly near the Harbour Bridge where she had guided visitors, would, in her father’s view, give her a small measure of the recognition she had once playfully hoped for.
“She wanted to be famous as a movie star,” Jim said. “She became famous, not for the right reason, but yeah, so she got that wish.”
Deputy Premier Prue Car responded that the government would work with the family. “I think everyone’s heart has broken watching what’s happened over the past week,” she said. “We’ll be working with the family and we’ll have something to say about that shortly.” Premier Minns himself later indicated he was in contact with the Hoopers and that the state intended to honour Lily in a meaningful way.
Looking Toward a Legacy
Beyond the immediate request for a flag tribute, the Hooper family has begun speaking about a longer-term legacy. Jim has floated the idea of “Lily’s Law” — a campaign focused on bush safety awareness, particularly for young people heading into remote areas.
“We think it’d be good if there was a legacy that was left like a Skye’s Law, Jack’s Law … Lily’s Law,” he said. “And that’s about the awareness of going out in the bush with EPIRBs, tracker devices, Garmin, Navman type devices.”
Jim walked the same track his daughter had taken and was struck by how demanding it was. He believes she may have become disoriented as light faded and headed in a direction different from her original route. “The bush can swallow you up,” he said.
The family is careful to stress that they do not want to discourage young people from experiencing the Australian outdoors. Kirrily has said they still want teenagers to get out into nature. Their message is simply that preparation and risk mitigation matter. Personal locator beacons and similar devices, they believe, should become as normal a part of a solo hike as a water bottle or a map.
Waiting for Answers
While the family processes their grief, they are also waiting for the formal findings of the coroner. Preliminary indications have suggested Lily died after a fall on the afternoon of the day she went missing and did not suffer prolonged exposure. That knowledge has brought a measure of relief. Knowing she passed relatively quickly has eased one particular torment that haunted her parents during the search: the fear that she had spent nights alone, cold and frightened in the bush.
Jim has spoken of the three possible outcomes he had prepared himself for — Lily found alive, Lily found deceased, or Lily never found. “Out of the three scenarios… we got the middle one,” he said. “Not ideal but at least we got her back.”
The family is now planning a send-off that reflects the energy with which Lily lived. They have described it as a “rock star” farewell for a young woman who threw herself at life.
A Community in Mourning
In Oakdale and across the Southern Highlands, the community has rallied around the Hoopers. Vigils have been held. Purple candles and flowers have appeared in local parks. People who never met Lily have spoken of being moved by her story and by her father’s calm dignity in the face of almost unimaginable loss.
Jim’s public comments have been marked by an absence of bitterness. Even when discussing the communication error that briefly raised false hope, he has focused on the effort of the searchers rather than the mistake. That posture has itself become part of the public narrative around Lily’s death — a grieving father choosing gratitude and legacy over anger.
The Broader Conversation
Lily Hooper’s death has reignited discussion about safety in Australia’s national parks. Solo hiking, particularly among young people, carries inherent risks that technology can help mitigate. Personal locator beacons, satellite messengers and improved trail signage are practical measures that could reduce the chance of similar tragedies. At the same time, the family’s insistence that young people should still be encouraged to explore the bush reflects a balanced view: adventure should not be abandoned, but it should be approached with respect and preparation.
Premier Minns has acknowledged that Lily was “doing everything right” — getting out into nature, living fully. That recognition sits alongside the practical questions her death has raised about how the state supports and protects those who choose to do the same.
A Father’s Quiet Strength
In the end, Jim Hooper’s words return again and again to two simple truths. The first is the depth of the loss. “It’s just so sad that she’s gone.” The second is a refusal to let that sadness erase the gift of the years they had with her. “I feel blessed we had her in our lives for a time.”
He has asked the Premier for a flag at half-mast. He has spoken of a possible “Lily’s Law” that might help other young hikers return home safely. He has refused to direct anger at the emergency services who searched for his daughter for eight long days. And he has begun the slow work of shaping a legacy from a life that ended far too soon.
Lily Hooper was 18. She was fearless, outdoor-loving, and full of plans. Her father’s public plea is both a request for recognition and an act of love — an attempt to ensure that the free spirit he described is remembered not only for the way her story ended, but for the way she lived it.
