The last post reads as being very flippant. I wrote it before I had any knowledge of just how devastating the damage here is. I think I was just amazed at having sat here while I felt the entire house shifting around me and being thankful we had spent all that money on the rebar after all. It’s scary being on the second floor of a concrete building in an earthquake. I’m sure many of you are following the news right now, especially if you have connections to Haiti in any way.
We are all okay. It feels good to finally be able to say that. I last talked to Chris about 20 minutes before the quake hit. He called to tell me that the truck we had gotten today as a loaner from the Toyota dealership was giving him problems so he was waiting for the guys from the dealership to come look at it. He was thinking about staying in town for the night if they couldn’t get the truck working properly again and would let me know what happened.
Immediately after the quake hit our phones went down and are still down. Seeing photos of the damage in Port I’m not surprised. Chris and I couldn’t get in contact with each other. I had no idea where he was, he had no idea if we were okay here. The last several hours have been full of emails, face book updates etc because thankfully our internet was still working. After a long time (about 4.5 hours) of not knowing where my husband was or if he was okay a car pulled into the lane in front of our driveway and dropped him off. I stood on the balcony watching and crying.
He was in the middle of an open road area when the quake hit Port. While the guys were working on the truck he started trying to help people get out of the buildings that had come down around him. He was able to help one girl and not able to help others. Pray for him. Those memories will be with him for a very long time. When he realized he couldn’t do any more he walked and found a bus that took him to Archaie. On the bus he met a man named Amos who had gone out to get a sandwich and minutes later found his house was flattened as was the school where he worked. He took his sandwich and got on a bus headed for Cap Haitien because everything that had made up his life in Port was gone. Amos is sleeping in our dorms and when I took him sheets and towels and asked how he was doing he simply said, with a smile, “M’ pa pi mal, gras a Dieu. ” I’m not bad, by the grace of God.
I don’t know what else to say after that.