Public deaths, private lives
More than four months after the worst crash in a decade claimed seven lives, the pieces are far from being put back together. Deena Coster reports.
It’s a modest yet sweet tribute, but the story behind it is tragic. The garden, created just days after the deaths of Nivek Madams and her baby sister ShadyJade, hosts dozens of trinkets and hand-painted treasures donated to Joy Clark, the owner of the Castlecliff, Whanganui home where the memorial resides.
Clark, Nivek’s godmother, was beside the 8-year-old when she died from her injuries, less than 24 hours after the June 27 crash near the South Taranaki town of Waverley.
The crash also claimed the life of five-month-old Shady-Jade, the baby’s father Jeremy Thompson, and four other people who were strangers to the young family but not to each other.
Ian Porteous, his wife Rosalie Porteous, his sister Ora Keene and friend Brenda Williams were all from Waverley and were never far from each other.
Taking seven lives, the Waverley crash was the country’s deadliest road accident in a decade.
The friends were bound for New Plymouth, while Thompson, his partner Ani Nohinohi and the girls were making their way to Whanganui when the crash happened near a bend on the outskirts of Waverley.
Nohinohi was the only one to survive, but the story of the seven lost will forever be linked by the way they died, their fates tragically aligned on an innocuous stretch of State Highway 3.
For Clark, the garden gives her moments of brief respite from the pain of living without those lost.
‘‘I never cry out here. This is a place I can come and don’t cry.’’
The space has literally blossomed, thanks to gifts from neighbours, family and complete strangers who have given plants and ornaments, along with a solarpowered fountain. A living tribute created to mark unimaginable loss.
Clark has known Nohinohi and Nivek’s father Kevin Madams for decades and remains in close contact with both.
Nivek, like many girls of her age, loved glitter, rainbows and unicorns.
‘‘She was a real princess,’’ the 55-year-old says.
‘‘There are times we don’t even know she’s gone. I don’t even know how we’ll cope at Christmas. We miss her so much.’’
Clark, who wears a silver nugget around her neck inscribed with Nivek’s name, says she was reticent to share her grief about her goddaughter, as it was nothing compared to what Nohinohi had to endure.
‘‘Ani is the most courageous person I have ever met.’’
Clark says while there were still questions to be answered about the crash, life for her will forever be defined by what happened that day.
‘‘Everything now is like before and after,’’ she says. ‘‘This is the worst thing that’s ever happened.’’
Finding answers to how the catastrophe came to pass is likely some time away.
Inspector Dave White, central districts road policing manager, says the Serious Crash Unit report is finished but he could not comment on its content or any findings as the matter was now before the coroner.
A Ministry of Justice spokesperson says the case is actively being investigated at the coronial level and no decision had been made about whether a hearing will be held.
Regardless, the deaths have created private hells for those left behind.
A request to talk with Nohinohi was made but she was not in a position to answer questions.
Approaches were also made to the Thompson, Williams, Porteous and Keene families, but they either declined to take part or did not respond.
In Nohinohi’s case, being able to find the words to truly explain how she feels would be a feat in itself.
Her grief is not lost on the town of Waverley, either, and will likely forever tie her to the small town.
Roy Hotter, parish clerk of the Waverley Waitotara Cooperating Church of the Good Shepherd, says while the town had been robbed of four residents, he also thought often about the mother-of-two and her suffering.
‘‘Mentally, it must be hard for her losing her partner and children.’’
Hotter presided over Keene’s funeral service, which also served as a memorial for her brother and sister-in-law.
It attracted a 400-strong crowd – ‘‘the largest funeral we’ve ever had’’ – leaving the wooden pews of the small church at capacity.
The hall had to be used and a closed-circuit television set up to cater for those who didn’t fit into either space.
The size of the funeral reflected not only the victims’ standing in the community, but the deep roots they had established in it.
He says the crash is the most traumatic thing that has happened to the community in his memory and continues to be a stark reminder of how quickly life can turn.
‘‘Things can change in a split second.’’
On a balmy Wednesday night this month, bowlers gathered at the Waverley club for a twilight session.
A chance to catch up over a beer, snaffle up a raffle ticket and try their luck on the green, just like Keene, Williams and Ian Porteous did in days gone by.
In fact, Williams’ set of four bowls are still at the club, cradled in a worn leather case and secured to a trundler with a brown and tan chequered scarf wrapped around the top.
It sits out on the grassed step by itself as the banter of the bowlers carries on and the games get under way.
Long-time club member Stu Buckman says the town is recovering but the tragedy did knock him for six.
These days he is busy during the week rolling the green and keeping the club grounds shipshape. But over the years, the clubroom was one place he got to spend time with the Porteouses, Williams and Keene – his four friends.
Buckman says their deaths have been as life-changing for him as dealing with redundancy and the break-up of his long term relationship.
‘‘Health-wise it has impacted on me. I ain’t the person I used to be.’’
Fellow club member Daphne Rowe was in Australia when her daughter told her about the tragedy over Skype.
‘‘It was a devastating loss,’’ she says. ‘‘It was a shock to think you were talking to someone one week and the next they’re gone.’’
Another bowler, Diane Ferguson, heard about the deaths the day after the crash when on the phone with a friend.
‘‘She told me about the crash – it was totally unbelievable.’’
Ferguson remembers Williams as a ‘‘very gentle person, lots of fun’’, while Ian Porteous, known as Port or Portie, was a ‘‘joker – a real card’’.
‘‘He was always having you on.’’
The 80-year-old’s jovial manner is one of the things Waverley librarian Sarah Kennedy recalls about her friend.
‘‘Ian was always the one to stand up and say thank you, make a speech or tell awful jokes really, really well,’’ she says.
Three years ago, Kennedy came up with the idea of hosting a midweek morning tea at the library – a way to keep people connected in the community and a ready-made welcoming committee for newcomers.
The Porteouses, Williams and Keene were regulars and would have been there on the morning of the crash, but Rosalie had to take her husband to a hospital appointment in New Plymouth and Brenda and Ora decided to tag along for the ride.
‘‘Every Wednesday I miss them,’’ Kennedy says.
Along with Ian Porteous’ humour, the others bought their own unique qualities to the group; Keene knew all the ins and out of the town’s history, Williams was a kind soul with a keen listening ear and Rosalie Porteous was a whiz with computers and had an artistic streak.
Marcela Harrison, along with husband John, were at the morning tea on June 27 when the emergency sirens went off just after 11am.
As they continued to share tea, cakes and chatter, no-one at the gathering had any inkling they were losing four of their own.
It wasn’t until the next day that the Harrisons found out their friends were among the dead.
‘‘I just went into tears,’’ Marcela Harrison says.
It was still difficult for her to stomach the drive from Waverley to Ha¯ wera and having to see the seven roadside crosses.
‘‘Every time I drive past I feel like I am being stabbed in the heart.’’