I'll never forget the terrible sound of rifle fire; the realisation that in a direct line a gun-toting madman was on the loose about 600 metres away; the fear for my children at neighbouring Napier Central School; a policewoman crouching down behind a concrete post across the road as shots rang out; my wife ringing to tell me that she had heard it was Len Snee who was the victim (we had played Touch with Len, he was a good friend of some friends of ours); a policeman with a rifle diverting me on a morning walk, making sure I didn't progress further towards Chaucer Rd.
It was a terrible time. Yet it brought us together. Right-thinking Hawke's Bay citizens and the police came closer, united in their shock that a quiet suburban scene could so suddenly erupt into such devastating violence.
Those simple words on that text from my friend conveyed so much.
Hurt, mateship, pride ... he and his fellow policemen couldn't save their friend but they could give him dignity. He wanted me to know they had done that.
Regardless of which side of the fence you sit on, law-abiding citizen or criminal, anti-marijuana or pro-marijuana, there is no excuse to be found for the drug-dealing, about to be charged, Molenaar's actions.
Perhaps he knew that, when his anger at the situation he returned home to face subsided, and that's why he took his own life.
Hopefully last night's television movie, Siege, and tomorrow's documentary, Siege: The Interviews, reinforce that such violence can never be tolerated.
* You can watch the made-for-tv movie Siege here.