Dead man’s family left with questions
GEORGE TAIAROA was a gentle and hardworking man who had no enemies or dark secrets.
He was a man who took his daughters on ‘‘ daddy- daughter dates’’ and fishing trips, a man who cooked his wife breakfast at weekends, and a man who told his family that he loved them.
He was quiet and humble, had a good sense of humour and found it easy to make friends.
In his 67 years, he worked as a meatworker, wharfie, shearer and labourer.
Even between jobs, he always managed to put food on the table.
This is how he is remembered by those closest to him – his whanau: wife Helen, daughters Rochai, Melanie and Chanel, son Chad, and grandchildren Toby, Jada and Georgia.
They have no answers for why another man pulled up next to him in a Jeep, fired a gun and left him to die on the side of a remote South Waikato road last month.
They have heard the rumours: it was a targeted killing; something in his past sparked a revenge attack; his testimony put a man in jail; it was a case of mistaken identity.
But the rumours, his family say, do not fit the man they know.
‘‘I wish I could give the police a lead to follow, but Dad didn’t like conflict; he didn’t attract anger. I actually don’t even remember my dad growling me ever,’’ Rochai, 38, said.
‘‘ He was just a loving man, that’s why we’re finding this very hard. Also, a man who just loved life and loved living it to the fullest, and just an absolute hero to me.’’
George used to take Rochai on ‘‘dates’’. They went to the 2011 Rugby World Cup final, where he made friends with the people next to them and was hugging and crying with them when the All Blacks won; and, three weeks ago, they went to Rarotonga for a holiday.
‘‘He was the sort of guy that everybody wanted to be with, he was the guy that would stop strangers on the side of the road and start talking to them and be their friend for the rest of his life,’’ she said.
Helen Taiaroa cooked her husband breakfast only two days before his death. She and George had a ‘‘commuting marriage’’. He worked and spent much of his time in Atiamuri, a village of about 100 people, 35 kilometres south of Tokoroa. She lived in Otaki, working as a lecturer at Te Wananga-oRaukawa.
On Friday, March 15, George made a surprise visit to her and the family.
She was planning to go to an event at Ngatokowaru Marae that evening, but chose to stay home to spend ‘‘quality time’’ with her man.
The next morning they visited friends and went to Raewyn’s Restaurant in Levin for breakfast.
George had his usual – steak, onions, fried- up spuds, three eggs. Life was normal. They talked about the things that husbands and wives talk about.
George would usually be the one to cook breakfast the next morning, but Helen wanted to make sure he avoided traffic and got on his way early.
‘‘ So he left on Sunday around about 7.30am to go home,’’ Helen said.
‘‘To what we call home – to Atiamuri.’’
She said she told him to take care on the road. She said goodbye. He probably told her that he loved her.
‘‘Basically, that’s the last time I spoke to him.’’
Two days later, about 3.10pm on Tuesday, March 19, George was shot dead by a mystery gunman while operating a stop-go sign on a one-way bridge in Tram Rd.
He was not a road worker and it was not his job to control traffic.
He was a labourer for HEB Construction. Another man had been holding the stop-go sign a short time before the shooting.
‘‘I believe George happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time,’’ Helen said. ‘‘He didn’t have an enemy.’’ The area where her husband was killed was known for drugs, and she said ‘‘there might be some answers there’’.
‘‘Have a look. Paint the picture. See the story in front of you,’’ she said.
‘‘ Don’t start looking skeletons in the closet.’’
She said her husband’s killer had succeeded in ‘‘destroying a family’’.
‘‘But we’re stronger than that, we’re really stronger than that.’’
George’s daughter Melanie said her dad taught the family how to love, and the importance of whanau.
‘‘You start thinking about those last conversations that you had with your father and I’m just so glad he used to finish every conversation with me that he loved me,’’ she said.
‘‘And at the time I used to think that that was kind of silly, but now I know how much that means, because I know that my father was a loving and kind and generous man.
‘‘And that’s why this is so, so shocking. And we are left here with these questions about how a 67-year-old man can be taken in such a horrible and violent manner. And we are left speechless.’’
Fairfax NZ
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