By Jeremy Elwood

There is really only one story this week, and it does not lend itself to satire, so if I may, I’d like to simply share a few thoughts on the tragic news from the West Coast.

I happened to be live on air as a guest on Radio New Zealand’s The Panel when we interrupted the discussion to break the news of the second explosion. It was a visceral moment, and listening back to the broadcast, you can hear the intake of breath from all involved as Andrew MacRae, who was impeccable, outlined the worst possible news. We then had five minutes to fill before the hourly news came on, and quite simply they were the hardest five minutes of my career to date. In that moment, I gained an entirely new respect for the journalists who do this kind of thing on an all-too-regular basis – maintaining dignity, accuracy and professionalism whilst battling your own churning emotions is a remarkable skill.

Over the last week the media have come under scrutiny, criticism and even outright attack – and often, particularly in the case of The Australian’s Ean Higgins, they have deserved it.

However, as with any career, journalists are individuals, and many of them, both from this network and all the others, have individually been exceptional.

I’d also like to extend the utmost respect to the two most visible faces of this tragedy as it unfolded – Peter Whittall and Superintendent Gary Knowles. Both have shown great integrity and strength in the midst of what has probably been the worst week of their lives; at least partially by never losing sight of the fact that it was much, much harder for the families of the trapped men.

They have both also shown the power of the three most underutilized words at press conferences – “I don’t know”. Rather than attempt to blind us with science, distract us with analogy or hide behind obfuscation, they shared when they could, admitted when they could not, and consistently reminded us all of what was at stake once the cameras stopped rolling.

The most palpable thing that was shared this week was grief. The West Coast is a tough part of the world, and the people are as staunch as anyone you’ll ever come across. However, in these dreadful hours, their emotions were plain to see.

In a country like ours which, even a few short years ago, seemed a bastion of the idea of the “good keen man” the willingness of families, key figures in the event and ordinary members of the community to weep has in some way allowed us all to be even more able to weep with them.

There is something about the idea of a mining disaster that is almost archaic in this age of workplace safety, air conditioning and ubiquitous hand sanitizer, but this has from the very beginning, and particularly once the names were released, been an all too human tragedy.

Questions will be asked for a long time to come. There will be more tears, there will be more anger, and this is anything but over for everyone involved in any way. But I for one would like to see the families given space, time and support so that they can come to terms with something most of us will, all willing, never have to bear.

One week ago, 29 men went to work. They never came home.

It is that simple.

It is that awful.