In my role as editor of the Whakatane News, I was asked to go to Kutarere last Thursday night.
It was the first time in seven years the Takamore whanau wanted to publicly have a say. In the dark, on a cold winter's night, people continued to arrive, they greeted and were greeted, they sat, they stood, they caught up.
The group guarding the urupa and the tupapaku of James Takamore came down every now and then and made a cup of tea, the atmosphere was relaxed and largely happy.
For the people it was simple - they had a job to do and they were going to do it.
I have always wondered if Mr Takamore's partner and his Christchurch mates were as prepared to guard and defend him when he died, whether this seven-year saga would have ever played out.