(From left): Warwick Marshall, deputy chairman of the Eskdale Church board of trustees, Gavin Lilley, Linda Paterson, Mike Stuart and Rikki Reed in front of the Eskdale War Memorial Church in Esk Valley, Napier. Photo / Warren Buckland
(From left): Warwick Marshall, deputy chairman of the Eskdale Church board of trustees, Gavin Lilley, Linda Paterson, Mike Stuart and Rikki Reed in front of the Eskdale War Memorial Church in Esk Valley, Napier. Photo / Warren Buckland
The clang of the Eskdale War Memorial Church bell rang loud on Tuesday morning, as if to say, “I’m here, I’m still standing”.
And it is, despite the devastation that decimated most of the Esk Valley.
The grand old lady sits as a symbol of hope and resilience for oneof Hawke’s Bay’s strongest communities.
Those who once lined the pews for weddings, funerals and even Sunday school are the very ones who are now working to restore the community icon to its former glory.
The dedicated team of locals, who have worked tirelessly over the past three months to clean the church and other properties in the Esk area, believe the building’s earthquake-strengthened foundations may be the reason the church withstood the carnage.
He and his wife are some of the many people that have continued to offer up their time to help the church get back to its pre-cyclone state.
Having been through the Canterbury earthquakes and cognisant of the associated timeline, he is hopeful that Esk Valley can return to something like it was after five or so years.
But there’s hope the church can be inhabitable a lot sooner than that.
“All the things that were able to be retrieved [like the pews and furniture] are in storage,” said Warwick Marshall, deputy chairman of the church’s board of trustees.
An Esk Valley local for nearly 72 years (he went to Sunday school at the church as a child), he said he has been overwhelmed by the amount of support shown to help out the church and the wider community.
“Personally, I’ve never experienced anything like this. People have just kept turning up out of the blue.”
One of these people was Mike Stuart from Waipū, who has been helping out all along the East Coast for months. The former T&G Hastings worker has been instrumental in helping with the landscaping and flowering.
“I don’t have much else to do, so I thought, ‘Why not?’”
The church’s grand exterior was once shrouded in lush greenery. Most of it is now gone, but, almost metaphorically, inklings of life such as the 100-year-old rose bush still remain.
Stuart and local Rikki Reed have managed to remove the silt so the flowers can breathe again.
Reid, a builder by trade, has been described as a “weapon” by his volunteer peers, and continues to utilise his incredible skills to help those in his Esk Valley community.
“I used to go to Sunday school in this church,” he said.
Three months ago, during the cyclone, Reid was clinging to a tree across the road, fearing for his life as floodwaters swept through the valley.
“I did promise this church when I was hanging on to the tree that I would come to help clean it up, and I got to do that.”
A dedicated team of locals have worked tirelessly over the past three months to clean up the historic Eskdale War Memorial Church. Photo / Warren Buckland
Local celebrant Linda Paterson knows the church well. While she has only conducted a ceremony at the church once, she has attended many and said the place played a significant role in the community.
“There’s a lot of history here, it means a lot to a lot of people. Generations, in fact.”
Lilley has managed to salvage branches from the remnants of the lone pine that once stood on the church ground, and there’s hope it could be turned into a collection plate or something else special for the church.
It’s not just talk of work; the group share their homes, stories and kai with another, and have been doing so since the Cyclone.
And in hearing the stories and tales of work that have been done, it’s clear the Esk Church and its clean-up crew are one and the same. Still standing and still serving the community.
“We’re all in this boat together,” Marshall said as he looked out at Esk Valley. “We’ve got to keep going, and we can’t just sit around and keep waiting.”
