In a remote corner of New Zealand’s Waikato region, a nearly four-year ordeal that gripped the nation has come to a tragic and violent end. Tom Phillips, a 42-year-old father who vanished into the wilderness with his three young children in December 2021, was fatally shot by police during a dramatic confrontation. The children—Jayda, Maverick, and Ember—were discovered safe but profoundly changed after years of living off the grid in dense bushland. Their mother, Cat Coleman, has now broken her silence, expressing a whirlwind of emotions: profound relief at their safe return mingled with deep sadness over the circumstances of their father’s death. This case, which unfolded like a real-life survival thriller, has left communities reeling, families fractured, and authorities reflecting on the challenges of pursuing fugitives in unforgiving terrain.

The saga began in the small rural settlement of Marokopa, a tight-knit community surrounded by rugged hills and thick forests, where Phillips and Coleman once shared a life raising their family. Phillips, described by those who knew him as a skilled bushman and hunter, had a history of distrust toward authorities. In late 2021, amid a heated custody dispute with Coleman, he took the drastic step of disappearing with the children—then aged 5, 6, and 8—without her consent. Coleman did not have sole custody, but Phillips’ actions were seen as abduction, sparking a massive manhunt that spanned years. Police launched extensive searches, deploying helicopters, trackers, and ground teams across the vast, impenetrable wilderness. Sightings were rare but tantalizing: grainy CCTV footage captured Phillips and at least one child breaking into stores for supplies, their faces obscured but their determination evident. For months, then years, they evaded capture, surviving harsh winters in makeshift camps, foraging for food, and steering clear of civilization.

As the search dragged on, speculation swirled. Was Phillips a protective father shielding his kids from a broken system, or a dangerous fugitive endangering their lives? Reports painted a picture of a man increasingly isolated, armed, and paranoid. In May 2023, he was linked to an armed bank robbery, heightening the stakes. Rewards climbed to $80,000, and public appeals from family members pleaded for his surrender. Phillips’ sister, Rozzi, went public in a tearful interview, urging him to “walk through what you need to walk through” and emphasizing the family’s readiness to help. His mother, Julia, penned a heartfelt letter published in local media, expressing her daily anguish: “Tom, I feel really sad that you thought you had to do this. Not considering how much we love you and can support you. It hurts every time I see photos of the children and of you.” To the grandchildren, she wrote of her longing: “Jayda, Maverick, Ember—I love you so much and really miss being part of your lives. Every day I wake up and hope that today will be the day that you will come home.”

Despite these pleas, Phillips remained elusive, his knowledge of the land proving a formidable barrier. The terrain—steep, densely forested, and often shrouded in mist—made operations perilous. Detective Superintendent Ross McKay described it as “difficult, steep terrain almost completely obscured from all angles by dense bush.” Police knew Phillips was armed and willing to use firearms, adding to the tension. Over the years, the children grew up in isolation, missing out on schooling, medical care, and social interactions. Experts worried about their psychological well-being, noting the potential long-term effects of such prolonged detachment from society.

The turning point came on September 8, 2025, in the small town of Piopio, not far from Marokopa. Early that morning, reports of a ram-raid at a farm goods store alerted authorities. Phillips, allegedly driving a stolen vehicle, attempted to break in, accompanied by one of his children. When police arrived, a chase ensued, escalating into a shootout. Phillips fired at officers, critically injuring one—a dedicated member of the force who was later discharged from the hospital after intensive care. In the exchange, Phillips was fatally shot. Acting Deputy Commissioner Jill Rogers addressed the media at the scene, calling the outcome “emotional” and an “absolute relief” after years of uncertainty. The child present during the incident was immediately taken into custody and provided crucial information that led police to the remaining two siblings at a nearby remote campsite. A large-scale operation involving helicopters and around 50 officers ensured their safe recovery. All three children were uninjured physically, though authorities emphasized that their welfare was the top priority, with wraparound support services mobilized to aid their transition.

In the aftermath, Cat Coleman, who had endured nearly four years of heartache, issued her first public statement through Radio New Zealand’s Mata Reports. Her words captured the bittersweet nature of the resolution: “There was a wave of complex emotions for our whānau. First and foremost, we are deeply relieved that for our tamariki this ordeal has come to an end. They have been dearly missed every day for nearly four years, and we are looking forward to welcoming them home with love and care.” Using Māori terms—”whānau” for extended family and “tamariki” for children—Coleman highlighted her cultural roots and the communal aspect of their healing. She continued, expressing sorrow: “At the same time, we are saddened by how events unfolded today. Our hope has always been that the children could be returned in a peaceful and safe way for everyone involved.” Coleman extended her “deepest aroha” (love and compassion) to the injured police officer and the broader community affected by the saga. “We also extend our aroha to those in the community who have been affected, and our heartfelt gratitude to the many people who have supported us over these past four years. Your compassion has sustained us,” she said. Finally, she outlined the path forward: “As a whānau, we are now attempting to work in cooperation with the relevant government agencies to support the safe return and reconnection of our tamariki. They have endured a long and difficult journey, and we ask for privacy as we help them adjust and reintegrate into a stable and loving environment.”

Coleman’s statement underscores the family’s focus on healing. The children, now aged around 8 to 11, face a daunting readjustment. Having lived feral in the bush—hunting for food, building shelters, and avoiding human contact—they may struggle with modern life, from technology to social norms. Child psychologists involved in similar cases note potential issues like developmental delays, trauma from the violence they witnessed, and attachment challenges. Government agencies, including child welfare services, are coordinating their care, prioritizing a gradual reunion with Coleman and extended family.

Phillips’ family, too, has grappled with the fallout. His parents, Neville and Julia Phillips, issued a public apology in a letter to the King Country News, addressing the communities of Waitomo, Otorohanga, and especially Marokopa and Te Anga. “We would like to send our sincere apology to all those in the Waitomo/Otorohanga districts, most especially those in the Marokopa/Te Anga community for all the trouble, inconvenience, loss of privacy and property caused by Tom,” they wrote. Emphasizing their stance, they added: “We in no way supported him or agreed with any of his actions in the past four years. We are truly sorry for all that you had to endure.” This marked their first media engagement since the incident, reflecting years of silence amid scrutiny. Earlier, Julia’s personal letter to her son revealed her inner turmoil, lamenting the path he chose and yearning for the grandchildren’s return.

The broader community has been profoundly impacted. Marokopa, a hamlet of fewer than 100 residents, endured disrupted lives—property thefts, constant police presence, and the shadow of uncertainty. Farmers reported break-ins, with CCTV capturing Phillips’ desperate raids for essentials. The injured officer’s ordeal has sparked debates on police protocols in high-risk pursuits. While some sympathize with Phillips as a man driven by paternal instinct, others condemn his actions as reckless endangerment. A coronial inquiry is underway to examine the shootout, ensuring transparency.

As the dust settles, Coleman’s voice stands as a beacon of resilience. Her plea for privacy honors the children’s “long and difficult journey,” a testament to the human cost of one man’s defiance. For Jayda, Maverick, and Ember, the wilderness years are over, but reintegration into a “stable and loving environment” will test the family’s bonds. This story, blending survival, tragedy, and redemption, reminds us of the fragility of family and the enduring power of hope amid despair.