The Legislative Council Chamber at Parliament is approached through a Grand Hall, covered with a ceiling of stained-glass domes. The chamber itself is an ornate room surrounded on its upper floor by galleries. A canopy of puriri supports Italian marble pillars and the panelled walls are made of heart rimu. The carpet is a deep shade of red. This lush room has been obsolete for seventy years when it comes to parliamentary procedure. It’s used for formal occasions, like the state opening of Parliament by the Queen if she happens to be in New Zealand, or by the governor-general if she’s not. It hosts other big gatherings that are important to the government, such as this commemorative service to mark the tenth anniversary of the first explosion at Pike River Mine. I’d been invited. The crowd was very well groomed.
By then the re-entry of the mine had been in progress for more than two years. It seemed to be going well, a skilful operation. Nobody had been hurt.
The room filled with hundreds of people. I introduced myself to the man sitting beside me, Steve Hurring, Helen Kelly’s husband. During the tributes, a clip of Helen speaking would be played.
As speeches were made – by the prime minister, by Rowdy and Sonya – we were reminded of the explosion that had happened at 3.44 p.m. on a Friday afternoon. And at exactly 3.44 p.m. on this day, we kept a minute’s silence. We remembered the twenty-nine men who had died and also paid tribute to Daniel Rockhouse and Russell Smith, the two who had made it to the surface, barely conscious and smelling of methane. When the power failed, the ventilation fan stopped. And yet for the next five days the families were told that the men might still be alive in the refuge chamber, where there would be fresh air, first aid and drinking water. This was the refuge chamber that Daniel and Russell had attempted to use during their escape, but realised had been decommissioned months earlier.
Anna Osborne had written a powerful reflection for the order of service, remembering her husband. She reminded readers that Milton, or Milt, as she called him, had been a town councillor and a volunteer firefighter, who had spent his life helping people. She had to keep going for him. Anna has been unwell for most of the years since the explosion; she now uses a crutch. The toll of the fight has been heavy.
Drinks and refreshments followed in the Grand Hall. I didn’t know anybody. I did spot the PR people, but they were busy. They usually were.
Down at Aratau, other mining families had gathered at the memorial rock garden.