'Pride and love' help tsunami victims' family cope

BY DENISE IRVINE

When you ask Lynne and Kerry Martin how they've found the strength to deal with the events of the past three weeks, the answer seems to be right there in their home.

"We don't really know," says Kerry, as he glances around the crowded dining room, "but it is coming from our family."

Three weeks ago, Lynne and Kerry lost their treasured daughters Rebecca, 24, and Petria, 22, in the Samoan tsunami. Since then, they've visited the Pacific nation to meet local people and see the place that claimed their daughters, they've held a vast and moving funeral in hometown Matamata to celebrate Rebecca and Petria's lives, and they've done it with a warmth and dignity that has been remarked upon by many.

On Tuesday this week, Kerry and Lynne sit at the dininig room table at their Wardville dairy farm and talk about the things that are helping them as they navigate their daily grief, their profound sense of loss. Kerry's sister Lynn McGlashan and her daughter, Jodi, 27, are also at the table, and the Martins' remaining daughters, Kristi, 26, and Zoe, 19, sit on the couch with Kristi's husband Matthew Bell.

Jodi McGlashan was in Samoa with her two Martin cousins, and she survived the September tsunami along with friend Olivia Loeffen, the fourth member of the group on the tropical holiday.

The Martins' farmhouse is alive with stories, tears and laughter. You feel the family strength that Kerry has just mentioned, see it in the quiet touch of a hand or warm hug as someone cries, and also in the gallery of family photographs depicting mum, dad and four kids who love and enjoy each other.

The extended family is clearly valued, too. When Jodi breaks down at one stage and leaves the room, she is comforted by both her aunt Lynne and mother Lynn, and later Lynn McGlashan describes her brother and sister-in-law as "incredible people; they have inner strength, they are a special family".

Kerry is one of six children, and there are 17 first cousins in his daughters' generation. They're all good mates, with a tradition of big gatherings encouraged by "Nana and Pa", Kerry's parents Wilf and the late Gloria Martin. Lynne's family, the Reids, are also close. "We've gained a huge amount from both sides," Kerry says, "everyone's helped us".

The funeral - and the turnout from the Matamata community - gave them a huge sense of pride in their daughters that has carried them along. "The pride and love got us through last week," Kerry says.

This week has been harder. Lynne is tearful as she explains that with Rebecca and Petria living away from home, it was not unusual for them to go for a while without catching up. So in the first days after the tsunami it could almost have seemed that their daughters had just been busy with their work, Rebecca teaching at Hamilton's Rototuna Primary School, and Petria a team leader at Matamata Sports Centre.

Now, there is the numbing reality that the two young women are not coming back.

With disarming honesty, Kerry admits that he and Lynne are not actually as strong as they appear. "We've held each other every day, and cried and cried. We do that in private. Our love for each other is the main strength we have. We are really struggling; friends and family lift us us up during the day. Then each morning we are back to square one." He knows there will be many hard days to come, and no timeframe for recovery.

But everything helps: the other night an older woman who'd known Petria through her work at the Matamata swimming pool visited to tell them what a lovely person their daughter was. Kerry and Lynne had never met the woman before, but such things have been happening constantly since Rebecca and Petria were killed.

They've had more than 50 bouquets of flowers and 350 sympathy cards and letters. Some cards are from strangers, touched by their loss. One card was simply inscribed "Kerry and Lynne Martin, Address Unknown, Matamata"; it found them and it was from an Auckland family who lost children in the 2004 Boxing Day tsunami in Asia.

They've also had a poignant card from the White family of Raglan. Mary Ann and Andrew White were staying at the same hard-hit Taufua Resort on Lalomanu Beach as Rebecca and Petria, and Mary Ann was killed as she and Andrew fled the waves. Kerry says the two families plan to meet: "We have a bond that can't be broken."

The conversation turns to the Martin girls' childhood, their sports, their schooling, all the things that Kerry and Lynne joined in whole-heartedly. Kerry recalls the teenage party years and the times he spent ferrying his kids and their friends home from various events. Sometimes he'd pick up a carload in the early hours of the morning, they'd all bunk down at the farm, and Kerry would maybe get an hour's sleep before milking.

It was all in the interests of keeping their children safe. Now, there seems a huge irony in the fact that two daughters died in circumstances where there was not the slightest hint of danger. And nothing could be done to save them.

"It wasn't as if they were rafting the Amazon, or somewhere dodgy," Lynne says, "they were in Samoa."

THE tropical holiday had started so well for the four young women.

Sitting at her aunt and uncle's table, Jodi McGlashan, a staff member of Hamilton's Calder and Lawson House of Travel, steps through the morning the giant waves destroyed the resort, and so many lives.

Jodi has not spoken publicly before about what happened; she says a lot has already been reported about the tsunami, and some things are private, to be shared only with the family.

She talks quietly, describing the happy arrival on the Sunday before the tsunami, how they rented a car and got a bit lost on the drive down to Lalomanu Beach on the southeast coast of Upolu Island. They arrived at Taufua Resort in time for a lunch of Samoan specialties such as spit-roasted pig and raw fish in coconut. "Then we jumped into our bikinis and went for a swim."

The next day, Monday, was wet, so they drove to the Samoan capital Apia for a look around, and took a long, looping trip back to Taufua where Petria had another swim.

Just before 7am on Tuesday (Wednesday NZT), they were wakened by the earthquake, the precursor to the tsunami. "It didn't feel that violent," Jodi says, "more like a light shudder".

There seemed no cause for alarm. They all went across to the toilets, situated a little way from their fales. They were back at the fales - still in their pyjamas and bare feet - when someone ran past telling them a huge wave was on its way.

"It had already got over the lagoon," Jodi says. "We saw it coming. All four of us started running for higher ground. We never made it." They got as far as a large meeting-house fale, perhaps a few metres away, and clambered on to the raised platform before being overtaken by the waves.

Jodi remembers calling to the others to hold on to something. "We were all together. Then I lost everybody. I was by myself. We all got engulfed. That's the last time I saw the girls (her cousins, Rebecca and Petria)".

The waves swept the building away, and the four women with it. Jodi fought for her life in the powerful water. "I kept clawing my way up, trying to find something that would bring me back up. I would pop up to get breaths."

Finding strength in family, friends

She thinks she may have endured four waves, but would not have got through another. She may have been carried 10 metres, and has no idea how long she was in the swirling water. "I don't know where I ended up, I was just in a calmer place, it seemed like a little lake, and it (the tsunami) had finished. I had nothing left, no reserves, but I did eventually get to the top of the hill."

Jodi was battered, cut and bruised. She was joined in her flight up the steep slope by a Samoan family and an Australian woman who had lost her partner (later found to have survived). Two Samoan men later carried her down the hill to a small clinic at Lalomanu, where she found her badly injured friend Olivia.

Jodi describes how, after nature had done its worst, it brought out its best. "It went from chaos to dead calm. It was a beautiful morning."

People got scattered in the aftermath, and Jodi hoped against hope that her cousins were still alive. She was taken with about six others to stay near Apia at the home of the New Zealand high commissioner, and a couple of days later she was flown to New Zealand.

Her mother Lynn says Jodi arrived on a stretcher, wearing borrowed clothes, and her first question was about the fate of Rebecca and Petria. Lynn and husband Peter had to break the terrible news that the young women who had shared so much of Jodi's life had died.

Jodi spent a couple of days at North Shore Hospital and is at her parents' Okoroire farm. Olivia, who had worked earlier at Calder and Lawson with Jodi, came home on another flight and has been recovering in Middlemore Hospital.

Jodi says everyone – her family, friends, and colleagues at Calder and Lawson – has been amazingly kind and supportive. "I'm just trying to take each day as it comes."

AT WARDVILLE, there is a strong sense of others following this mantra. Getting through each day with help from family and friends. Lynne and Kerry Martin say they are blessed by a strong community, as well as a strong family.

Their roots go deep in this place. Kerry is a fourth-generation Wardville farmer. He lives in the house where he and his siblings were raised by parents Wilf and Gloria. The "middle bit" of the comfortable home was built in the 1920s and he jokes that everyone's had a go at renovating it. "It's grown like Topsy."

Lynne is from Matamata, the pair met at a party in Waharoa, and they've been married 28 years, raising their girls in the rural environment they know and love, participating in the life of their district and beyond.

And, as happens in such places, they are truly feeling the benefits of being part of the close-knit Matamata district.

When they went to Samoa in the early, uncertain days after the tsunami, family and friends pitched in to milk their cows, and there was plenty of support for Kristi and Matthew, dairy farmers at Elstow, near Te Aroha, and Zoe, a student at Waikato University.

Kerry reckons their deepfreeze was about one-third full when they left, and now it's chokka with bacon and egg pies, casseroles and other dishes. Lynne's barely cooked a meal in three weeks, and help with milking has continued.

Lynne says she can't just pop into town for five minutes now because everywhere she goes there are people wanting to talk to her, give her a hug, offer support. "People are so generous, we thank them so much." She and Kerry are also deeply touched by the concern of their four daughters' friends, with Kerry adding "there are a lot of good young people out there".

Close neighbours have cut, turned and baled Kerry's silage, and the Wardville Social Club has co-ordinated offers from anyone who wanted to help.

Kerry's voice falters as he recounts how the social club set up a fund for the family at the National Bank in Matamata, and he's been told about many local people calling in to contribute.

The family is humbled by the gesture. "It's not something we would have possibly expected, or even wanted." The club wants them to use the fund however they wish and it will probably go towards a future trip to Samoa with Zoe, Kristi and Matthew, and the baby Kristi and Matthew are expecting in April.

Kerry and Lynne are also grateful for the support they received in Samoa, especially from New Zealand police liaison officer Superintendent Ross Ardern.

A former Waikato man, Ardern kept Kerry and Lynne updated on their missing daughters, and he and his wife Laurell met the couple on their arrival in Samoa, and had them to stay.

The Martins are utterly relieved their daughters' bodies were located.

Says Kerry: "When we knew they wouldn't come home, to find them was the next most important thing."

As much as they feel their own loss, the couple are mindful of the devastation for Samoan families, and have acknowledged this at every opportunity.

One of their friends summed up the thoughts of many when she wrote in a sympathy card:

"I have just returned from Petria and Rebecca's funeral and am completely amazed at what a remarkable family you are. How proud your girls would have been of your strength. Your kind words and special thoughts for all the people of Samoa let everyone see what caring people you are. It is no wonder your girls were so loved."

THE GIRLS were very much loved. They are very much missed. You can feel it in the room, in the quiet distress of their parents and sisters, in the stories, in the pride they all have for the two smart, warm-hearted, fun-loving, auburn-haired young women who had many strong friendships, and careers they enjoyed.

Their dad says "they were both on the runway, ready to fly".

Kristi and Zoe sit side by side on the couch, the oldest and youngest, and the two middle sisters will never again sit between them. In their last visit to this house of many memories, Rebecca and Petria came in their brightly coloured caskets on the night before their funeral.

Kerry says wistfully that 2009 had began as a marvellous year, with Kristi and Matthew's wedding in April, then hearing about the pregnancy on Father's Day in September. "Life in general" was very good, and they've always tried to do their best by their kids.

The four sisters were good friends, and Kristi says she and Zoe feel they've been robbed. "We were going to grow old together."

Kerry repeats the heartbreaking questions he asked at the funeral: "How can a holiday in Samoa go so wrong? How can our girls have been at that beach when the tsunami hit, when it's never happened before?"

- © Fairfax NZ News