I did not always agree with Helen’s stance on issues, but to disagree meant you had to be well
prepared with your case. Her commitment to whatever she believed in was legend.

[DPF: Thanks.]

Which is not to say she never asked questions – quite the opposite. But rather than asking me to explain the background and the ramifications so she could write up my comments as her own work (a technique perfected by more than a few of her colleagues outside the Gallery, though of course I wasn’t complaining) Helen was one of those whose questions would question the underlying assumptions and intelligently project the outcomes of what you were proposing. In short, she was someone you respected.

At the same time she was also one of the nicest people I’ve met… unfailingly cheerful but not in an annoying way (that’s badly put, but I can’t think of a better way of expressing it right now). So despite the fact that part of my brain was going “Uh oh” when I heard “Helen Bain here…” on picking up the phone, another part was going “Yay, a chance to chat with Helen”.

Such was her ability as a journalist I always felt she shouldn’t have gone into PR (though she was brilliant at that too) simply because there are so few writers of her insight writing about NZ.

I haven’t spoken to Helen in many years, simply because our paths mever crossed professionally. Although she received many well-deserved accolades it’s a source of intense personal regret that I never had the opportunity to tell her what a fine journalist and person she was.

I’ve used hammers made out of wood
I have played games with pieces and rules
I undeciphered tricks at the bar
But now you’re gone, I haven’t figured out why
I’ve come up with riddles and jokes about war
I’ve figured out numbers and what they’re for
I’ve understood feelings and I’ve understood words
But how could you be taken away?
And wherever you’ve gone
And wherever we might go
It don’t seem fair… Today just disappeared
Your light’s reflected now, reflected from afar
We were but stones, your light made us stars
With heavy breath, awakened regrets
Back pages and days alone that could have been spent, together…
But we were miles apart
Every inch between us becomes light years now
No time to be void or save up on life
You got to spend it all…
And wherever you’ve gone
And wherever we might go
It don’t seem fair… You seem to like it here
Your light’s reflected now, reflected from afar
We were but stones, your light made us stars
And wherever you’ve gone
And wherever we might go
It don’t seem fair… Today just disappeared
Your light’s reflected now, reflected from afar
We were but stones, your light made us stars

I know it’s a song, Pete, but I trust you realise it is a paraphrase of Ecclesiastes?
(I’m sure you do)

A time to learn, a time to grieve
A time to stay, a time to leave
A time deserving to hold dear, a time remembering to care
To everything, there is a season

(Turn, Turn, Turn)