In the quiet agony of a family forever changed, Hannah Furse’s words land like a dagger to the soul: “We are endlessly proud to be your parents.” Released through police and shared across New Zealand in the wake of the devastating Mount Maunganui landslide, this raw declaration from Max Furse-Kee’s mother stands as the most gut-wrenching tribute yet to emerge from the January 23, 2026, tragedy that claimed six lives—including her beloved 15-year-old son, who was mere days from turning 16. What should have been a milestone celebration of cake, candles, and teenage joy has instead become a shattering symbol of loss, as a nation grapples with the sudden, merciless theft of young innocence.
Max Furse-Kee was everything a parent dreams of: kind, joyful, incredibly close to his family, a devoted big brother, a talented basketball standout who had claimed junior player of the year honors, and a boyfriend whose light shone brightly in every photo shared from his summer holiday. He and his girlfriend Sharon Maccanico, also 15 and a fellow Pakūranga College student, had escaped to the iconic Mount Maunganui Beachside Holiday Park for carefree days of beach adventures, matching bracelets, dress-ups, and lazy sunsets at the base of the sacred Mauao (Mount Maunganui). The pair posted smiling selfies on social media, capturing the pure, fleeting magic of youth—moments now frozen in time, haunting reminders of what was ripped away.
The landslide hit without mercy at around 9:30 a.m. on that fateful Thursday. Days of torrential rain had soaked the slopes above the popular campground, turning stable ground into a ticking bomb. An “almighty cracking” echoed across the bay, followed by a roaring wall of earth, trees, rocks, and mud that pulverized caravans, tents, vehicles, and the amenities block in seconds. Max’s final, heroic shout—“GO! GO NOW!”—gave others precious seconds to flee, but the boy who thought of everyone else was swallowed by the debris. Witnesses still hear his voice in their nightmares: urgent, selfless, gone in an instant.
Rescue efforts turned grim as hours stretched into days. Human remains were located Friday night, but heavy rain, unstable slopes, and the sheer weight of the slide made survival impossible. Police Superintendent Tim Anderson confirmed the shift to recovery mode: no one could have withstood the crushing force. By Sunday, January 25, the six victims were publicly named: Max and Sharon; literacy coordinator Lisa Anne Maclennan, 50; Swedish backpacker Måns Loke Bernhardsson, 20; and longtime friends Jacqualine Suzanne Wheeler and Susan Doreen Knowles, both 71. The identification process, described as “complex” and “painstaking” by Chief Coroner Judge Anna Tutton, continues amid ongoing danger.
Hannah Furse’s tribute, released on behalf of the family, pours out a mother’s unbreakable love amid unimaginable grief. “My love for Max is impossible to explain, no words are big enough to describe this love or loss,” she wrote. “From the moment I first looked at his beautiful blue eyes almost 16 years ago he had my whole heart, he was my sunshine.” She called him an “incredible, kind and beautiful human being,” a “wonderful son” whose laughter and warmth touched every life he entered. “In truth, all of this feels impossible to imagine,” she continued. “We are endlessly proud of who he is and that he is ours.” The family’s lives, she said, had changed “so suddenly and so completely” they would never be the same.
Those final words—“We are endlessly proud to be your parents”—have struck a chord that reverberates far beyond Auckland. Shared on social media, in news headlines, and at candlelit vigils attended by hundreds—including Prime Minister Christopher Luxon—they capture the raw essence of parental love cut short. Max’s 16th birthday, once circled on calendars with excitement, now looms as a day of mourning. No party, no presents—just an empty chair and a family shattered by what could have been.
The tragedy has unleashed a wave of national sorrow and outrage. Why was the campground not evacuated after smaller slips were reported as early as 5:48 a.m.? Tauranga City Council faces mounting scrutiny over hazard mapping in a repeatedly landslide-prone area. WorkSafe investigations probe duty-of-care failures at the holiday park, while climate experts warn of worsening extreme weather fueling such disasters. Independent reviews have been promised, but for grieving families, answers feel distant against the immediacy of loss.
Community response has been overwhelming. A Givealittle fundraiser “In Loving Memory of Max” raised over $35,000 in hours, with donors flooding the page with messages of support and shared memories. Flowers, kai, and heartfelt notes pile at cordons near the beach. Pakūranga College mourns two students whose futures were stolen; Morrinsville Intermediate remembers Lisa Maclennan’s “heart of gold.” Rotorua Mayor Tania Tapsell honored the elderly friends who cherished their annual summers at Mauao.
Hannah Furse’s plea—“hug your babies, life can change in a moment”—has gone viral, a stark warning echoed in every tribute. Parents across New Zealand and beyond clutch their children tighter, sharing photos and stories of Max’s joy, Sharon’s smile, and the fragile beauty of ordinary days. The landslide has scarred more than the landscape; it has etched a permanent reminder that paradise can turn deadly without warning.
As recovery crews battle treacherous conditions and more rain threatens, the mountain stands silent once more. Max’s voice—his warning shout, his laughter, his life—echoes in the hearts of those left behind. His parents’ pride endures, a beacon amid darkness: endlessly proud, forever heartbroken. No miracle arrived. But in their words, a boy’s legacy lives on—kind, courageous, loved beyond measure.
The wind sweeps across Mauao’s slopes, carrying whispers of what was lost. A nation weeps for Max Furse-Kee, whose 16th birthday will forever be remembered not with celebration, but with a mother’s unbreakable love and a country’s collective sorrow.
