At 2pm today, I will join many New Zealanders in observing a 2 minute silence to acknowledge the 29 miners who perished in the Pike River mine disaster. Here's my connection to Pike River.

In that time of silence I will think of my mother, 84 this year, who I know is feeling a deep sadness today as she remembers her mother and her aunt and the changes that happened in their lives because of mining disasters over 80 years ago.

Being born on the Coast, though I didn't live there long, has always been part of my identity, and part of that comes from my mother who was born in Denniston. Her father, William Butler, was a miner and then a mine manager at Denniston and subsequently Millerton.

He came across from Australia in 1916, encouraged by his good friend Will Maher. Best of mates, they ended up marrying two of the Milligan sisters (there were more than enough to go round - a family of eight girls and two boys, and at least three of the children were born in a tent on top of Denniston hill).

Will Maher was killed in the Millerton disaster of 1928. He was among the first who went to the rescue of a trapped miner after an explosion, and died of carbon monoxide poisoning. The Coroner, with extensive help from the mine company, found that he perished due to "fearless carelessness".

My grandfather raced to the mine with all the others from the township. But as a manager, it was his job to ensure there were no more deaths. Even though he knew his brother-in-law and best mate was down the mine, he stood at the head of the pit with a piece of 4x2, threatening to hit any man who tried to go down after the others.  One of the people he had to physically restrain was his own nephew, who knew his father was down there and in mortal danger.  Four men died that day - too many, but it could easily have been more.

According to the story, when they went to tell Will Maher's wife Kit, she was at the washing line.  When she saw the group coming up the hill, she threw her apron over head, fell to the ground, and rolled around in unextinguishable grief.  She was in her mid-thirties at the time, and though she lived to 102, she never re-married.  She had 6 children, the youngest of whom was killed in World War II in his first combat flight in 1941.

A couple of years later, the Murchison quake struck on a similar scale as the recent Christchurch quake.  My grandfather raced to the mine, but his boots were not laced to the top.  A piece of coal got wedged between his sock and his leg, scratching the skin.  As my mother said, there are a lot of pathogens in coal, and he developed an infection.  It was in the days before antibiotics (though even now blood poisoning is a life threatening condition), and the infection turned to septicemia.  He died 2 months later, painfully and fearfully, knowing that he was leaving 6 children under the age of 12 in the care of a loving, gentle woman who had no capacity to earn an income.  He is buried next to his great mate Will Maher.  On the other side is his wife, who died aged just 54. My mother's father died when she was three years old, her mother when she was 17. 

My mother is reflecting today on the enormity of what happened those long years ago.  Our family is represented at the service by a cousin who grew up on the Coast. But at 2pm my immediate family, my extended family and many others in this small country will be united in a concert of silence to remember these men and how they represent part of our lives, our history and our country.

 One of my favourite sayings is that a thicker whip won't make a dead horse go any faster, so this extrapolation really appeals (thanks Craig):

It's become fashionable to describe a cold which forces a male to stay away from work as "man flu".  At the risk of sounding politically correct, I think this is stupid and dangerous.  The implication is that when men get sick they get pathetic and over-dramatic, and the comparator is women.  I have no comment to make on the stereotyping, and it doesn't bother me because it's all part of the healthy banter between men and women.  Men's counter to the accusation is around how much sympathy they get from their beloveds.  Then again, more sympathy might make us even more pathetic. 

But to me the important thing is how we as business owners, men and women but most especially men, try to wear the badge of honour by not giving in to sickness.  There's too much to do, I can't afford to disappoint people, they can't do it without me etc etc.  And typically a cold becomes a secondary infection and if they're really stoic (stupid) it becomes bronchitis, pneumonia, or pleurisy. And then the cost to the business is really significant.

Even more worrying, and this is definitely a guy thing, is not getting things checked out.  I am guilty of this myself.  A test came back with an abnormal cholesterol reading.  I went for the subsequent test, but did I do the 3 month follow-up?  Ah, not yet. That may not be life-threatening, but we all know stories of people who have events or developments that absolutely should be followed up quickly and attentively.  And they don't.  Is it stoicism or fear that your lifestyle will have to change?  Is it a "she'll be right" attitude or just plain stupid?

If you've got something you know you should deal with, for God's sake Billy, don't be a hero. Or a schmuck.  Get it checked.  Pick up the phone now, and make the appointment.  Now.

15 September