Saturday’s Pike River first anniversary service began with Ben Hutana, the senior kaumatua on the Coast, giving his mihi.

When Ben had completed his reo formalities, he put his hand on his heart and said, in English: “We want our boys back.’

At which point a raw voice speared forth from somewhere among the grieving families: “Everyone of them!”

That was a theme that echoed, time and time again, during the service.

You got the feeling, too, that those grieving families were thankful for the chance to say that again, on a national stage.

Thankful too, that Tim Mora was talking about “the moral responsibility” of bringing the miners back.

They were also grateful for the chance to thank the wider Coast community for their continued support – and for the solace of seeing how many had come to Rugby Park to mourn with them.

That much was plain in the TV news bulletins.

What you wouldn’t have seen, though, is how much Anglicans had contributed to the day.

Yes, with Tim Mora as host, there was an obvious Anglican presence on the stage.

But that was just the tip of the iceberg.

Because without Robin Kingston working behind the scenes, the service wouldn’t have happened.

It’s as simple as that.

Back in the dark days of the Cave Creek tragedy, Robin – who, back then, was the long-serving Vicar of Holy Trinity, Greymouth – had made a national memorial service happen on about 48 hours notice.

And when Pike River blew last November, he was one of the Coastal leaders who put an end to the nonsense about having a national service in Christchurch, or Wellington maybe, sometime in the dim distant future...

Those Coasters made sure that remembrance service happened at Greymouth’s Omoto Racecourse within two weeks of the first explosion.

That service worked, big time. Everyone was agreed about that.

And so the Greymouth Minister's Association knew there'd be a need for another service to mark the end of a year since the first explosion.

The families came on board with that idea too – and the ministers' association asked Robin to set up a committee to make the one-year commemoration happen.

Robin’s officially retired now.

In fact, he’s on a half-time stipend as associate priest at Holy Trinity Greymouth. His wife, Marge Tefft, is the fulltime vicar there these days.

That half-time business is mostly fictional, of course.

But at least that semi-retired status gave Robin the mental space to throw himself into organising the anniversary tribute.

Saturday's service was on a smaller scale, of course, than the Omoto event.

But in some ways, the demands were even greater.

Last time around, there was a small battalion of Internal Affairs people on hand, bringing to bear their organisational muscle, their event-managers, their media minders, and their government-sized cheque books...

None of that was available this time.

Just an agreement from Internal Affairs to pick up the tab for hiring the giant screen.

Some more money, too, from the Pike River Trust to hire the two stages.

That was it. The rest was up to Robin – and to two other key people: Kurt Dixon, and Kathryn Leafe.

Kurt’s dad, Allan Dixon, is one of the 29 miners entombed up at Pike.

And where Saturday’s service was concerned, young Kurt was the tireless and efficient liaison man between the families and the event organisers.

Kathryn is a top flight social worker.

Since the first explosion, she’s been the link between the various welfare groups and the families.

And because the families don’t want to deal with a parade of changing faces, she reckons she’ll be in Greymouth for a good while yet.

Kathryn is English. She was in the thick of helping out in London in the aftermath of the 7/7 2005 bombings, and she came to Greymouth just six months before the Pike explosion.

But Kathryn has got serious Coast credentials, too: because in 1967 her grandmother’s partner was one of the 19 men killed at the Strongman Mine.

So it was those three, essentially – Robin, Kathryn and Kurt – who made the Saturday service happen.

This time around, there was a deliberate decision to leave Tim Mora free from the organisational stuff to concentrate on his MC duties.

And for Marge to concentrate on being Vicar of Holy Trinity Greymouth.

Mind you, that didn’t stop Marge from being at Rugby Park on the Friday evening as the sun went down.

There she was, armed with a mop and bucket, swabbing the floors of the stages.

And she was on deck on the day, too, of course.

After the service was over, you could see her chatting and smiling with Bernie Monk – and that about was the most relaxed Bernie had looked all day.

One way another, Tim, Robin and Marge again all had their parts to play.

There's a lot of talk in Anglican circles these days about the need for “community-facing ministry.”

We’re perhaps not exactly sure what that is – but we should certainly be doing more of it.

Well, never mind the talk.

Never mind the definitions.

If you come to Greymouth, you can see how it’s done.