We sat beside the feisty grandmother as she shook her fist at Whakatāne District Council elected members and senior staff at the first community meeting called after the debris flow.
Councillors didn't want media at the meeting but Marilyn was adamant we attend and told them "too bad, I do". We listened and heard over and over, the word mitigate.
We were among the Awatarariki crew as ministers, including the Prime Minister, legendary Kiwi entertainers, insurance assessors, EQC staff and welfare agents, descended on the coastal town, some offering commiserations, some positivity and others help.
In the early years, when one development arose after another, we'd head out to Matatā, to the second story of their Clem Elliot Dr home relocated to a Pakeha St section and sit with Marilyn for hours trying to digest another chapter of a saga that was enveloping Marilyn's life.
We were there when Rob turned the first sod of rebuild soil in 2008, we were there when residents who had returned said they were sick of the eyesore left from the debris flow and we were there when the goalposts shifted so dramatically for fan head property owners.
We've seen Marilyn angry, happy and sad and we've seen her buckle under the stress.
I don't believe I ever heard Marilyn Pearce say she was afraid during the debris flow. I don't remember seeing her scared in the intervening years up until 2012.
But over the past 14 years I have watched her and her neighbours become more and more fearful as they faced the realisation they could lose their homes.