‘Together we are stronger’
‘‘We remember those who died, those who were hurt and those who experienced loss.’’ Oi Manawa – tremor of the heart – tribute
The ceremony began as solemn as ever.
A mihi, the national anthem, a welcome from Christchurch Mayor Lianne Dalziel. Another year, another ceremony to remember 185 lives lost and countless more upended.
Through two, three, four and five-year anniversaries, Cantabrians have congregated, commemorated and dispersed. Flowers flowing through the lower reaches of the Avon River the only reminder that the day was the February 22. This year was different. ‘‘Six years ago . . . I remember the mayor at the time, Sir Bob Parker, giving a solemn undertaking that in time there would be a place for recording the names of those who had died,’’ Dalziel said. ‘‘Now is the time. This is the place.’’
One-hundred-and-eighty-five names stretched across 40 metres of the 112m-long memorial wall unveiled yesterday.
A crowd of dignitaries and bereaved family members gathered on the opposite bank for the occasion.
About 3000 members of the public crammed around the Montreal St bridge and vantage points at office windows and apartment balconies to watch on.
It wasn’t an appropriate location for such a throng, but it was the perfect setting.
‘‘This memorial is a pledge from us, the living, to those that we have loved and lost. A pledge that they will not be forgotten,’’ Governor-General Dame Patsy Reddy said. ‘‘As this river flows towards the sea, its life and movement reflect the strength that comes from common effort and the hope and determination to overcome the trials that beset us.’’
The curtain lifted on Oi Manawa – tremor of the heart – and a tribute that accompanied the 185 names. It read, in part:
‘‘We remember those who died, those who were hurt and those who experienced loss. We offer our thanks to those who came for us, to those who risked their lives for ours and to those who supported us. Together we are stronger.’’
Earlier, Prime Minister Bill English addressed the bereaved families directly.
‘‘We cannot know what fear or courage or hope filled the last moments of your loved ones,’’ he said.
‘‘For years to come people will come to this place to remember and honour your loss and hope, as we hope today, that this memorial of hopes will stitch up the ragged edges of broken hearts.
‘‘You can know that the memories of your loved ones are at the foundations of this renewed city. May the living live with hope and those who have died rest in peace.’’
The 185 names were read out and a minute’s silence marked at 12.51pm, as poignant as ever. Afterwards, instead of dispersing, people stayed.
They had a reason to. The queue to get down to the memorial wall was so long access had to be staggered in groups.
‘‘It’s absolutely beautiful,’’ said Deb Conley, whose stepdaughter Rachel Conley died on Colombo St.
‘‘It just provides all the spaces that you need. The ability to touch the names on the wall. To sit and reflect. It serves so many purposes. It is everything that we could have dreamed of.’’
Now the dream is reality.