On the day of the earthquake in Haiti, our RCA delegation that was in Port-au-Prince to observe conditions, visit churches and report back to the General Synod what we experienced while in the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. The delegation consisted of me, James Seawood, and my wife Emra; Brigido Cabrera, coordinator for the RCA’s Hispanic Ministries; RCA pastor Andres Serrano; and Yeral Ogando, secretary for Iglesia Reformada Dominicana. On Tuesday morning before the earthquake, we were introduced to Pastor Joseph Yvon and his wife along with members of his church and local ministers. Pastor Yvon had agreed to be our guide and introduce us to Haitian ministers interested in learning more about the Reformed Church. Our first stop was a church in the rural town of Acayin, about one hour away from Port-Au-Prince. Reportedly, Acayin is known as the central place for the practice of voodoo, people come from many miles to this town to have their rituals and ceremonies. But in this little village is a Christian church with over 200 members. After a brief meeting and fellowship with the pastor and church leaders in Acayin we all got into the van on our way back to Pastor Yvon’s church for the scheduled meeting with leaders from twelve churches in Port-au-Prince, however, he insisted that we go to his home for a luncheon prior to the meeting. We had no warning or thought of the events that would unfold in a matter of minutes.

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At his home his five year old daughter, Faran, sang “This is the day” in Creole, English and Spanish. About five minutes after we left Rev. Yvon’s home, there was a terribly loud sound the van we were in shook from side to side I thought I had felt the impact of a bomb and heard small arms fire as I saw large dust clouds coming from all directions and people running and screaming covered in white dust. Cars were stopped along every street, panicked people got out of their cars and began running in all directions. The traffic was jammed as far as the eye could see with abandoned cars. People were coming from every direction toward the center of town. Telephone poles and electrical wires were falling as we heard the crash of building after building. The dead and dying, the panic, the screams, the confusion, the chaos of that moment will forever inform my understanding of desperation, despair, disaster.

Moments after Haiti Earthquake from Phil Tanis on Vimeo.

Scenes of 9/11 New York City flashed through my mind. Someone screamed, Earthquake! Earthquake! I didn’t know which way to go or what to do. As I prayed, I heard a voice saying “Come, come this way, this way!” We began walking following the calm voice of Pastor Yvon. He told his members to form a circle around us to protect us as we walked toward the hotel and was determined to protect his new friends and escort us to a safe place. Pastor Yvon could have left us to go see about his family or the church leaders and members that were waiting to meet with us. Rather than going immediately to care for his family and church members, he risked his life to save us. We arrived at the hotel and he was assured the hotel staff was available and we could stay. We prayed for him, his family, his church and the people of Haiti. He then left after giving us the assurance that he would come back the next day to help us get to the airport.

The La Plaza hotel had been built in the 1950’s but was very sound. The building had swayed but there was minimal damage, large plants had toppled, televisions had fallen off the shelves in some rooms, debris was everywhere, but the building did not collapse. However, because the structure had swayed and there were strong aftershocks, the hotel management and staff advised against staying in the building so guests and staff were moved to an outside courtyard, where we spent the night. Armed guards were posted at the entrances.

Throughout the night, it was almost impossible to sleep. All I could hear was the crash of buildings falling following the strong aftershocks, horns blowing as auto alarms were activated, people screaming and the roar of thousands of people walking and talking all night long. During the hours following the initial damage of the earthquake, all communications services were disrupted. There was no telephone or cell phone service, no radio or television transmissions, no internet as well as no electricity. We had no contact with the outside world. I had a small radio/light that generates power by turning a crank that we were finally able to use to listen to news reports from Venezuela.

Finally, it was morning. Slowly we began to peer out the gate to see what things looked like. Oh My God, the destruction was worse than anything we could have imagined. The streets looked like a war zone. Pastor Yvon arrived as we were looking around. He reported his church had collapsed and they still did not know if everyone that had been waiting to meet with us survived. His home had collapsed. The family of three on the third floor and the family of four on the first floor were killed. The Pastor and his family lived on the second floor and his four year old daughter was trapped under some rubble, but they located her and she was only slightly injured. Pastor Yvon said, “It’s a miracle that she survived. We have lost everything. The only things we have are the clothes on our backs and our trust in God. I’ll start moving my family north of the city to stay with my wife’s family after we return from the airport. I still don’t know who may have been killed when our church building collapsed”.

Tears came to my eyes as I realized Pastor Yvon had kept his promise to come back and get us to the airport, out of the country safely. We had heard on the radio that the airport was open and that planes were flying out. There was no way to get a taxi and the streets were cluttered with abandoned vehicles. We had no choice but to walk if we wanted to get to the airport which was reportedly twelve miles away. An emotion shared by hotel staff and our delegation was that if we stayed another night our safety could be severely compromised due to potential civil unrest, looting and mob violence. Pastor Yvon assured us he would “walk” us to the airport. After packing and praying we started out walking to the airport. We were walking away from the center of the city as thousands upon thousands of people were walking towards the center.

As we walked up and down the hills of Port-Au-Prince we saw families sitting together with all their possessions, some in the middle of the street, many on the side of the street trying to get something together to eat even as they cared for the injured. Many people were carried on makeshift stretchers to who knows where because the general hospital had collapsed. In the tropical heat, dead bodies were on the sides of some streets, some covered; some simply covered with flies.

We passed by two or three schools along the route to the air port. There were little arms, little legs and sometimes children’s bodies protruding from the fallen rubble as men and women frantically tried to remove tons of concrete with their bloodied hands. Injured people were everywhere with open wounds, bloodied clothing and no first aid supplies or medical facilities. People just kept walking in the heat, fumes and dust toward the city center in hope of finding help, water, food and information about lost family members.

After walking for over two hours, we came to a city square. The six miles up and down the hills of Port –Au- Prince seemed like an eternity. Taxis and vehicles for hire are normally available at this location. But this was not a “normal” day. We could not locate one vehicle for a ride to the airport. We tried to flag down several cars/vans but none would stop. In desperation, I was about to step in front of a UN vehicle when the Pastor pointed toward two or three motorbikes. In this part of the world, small motor bikes are used as taxis. The rate was 100 times the normal charge for riding on back of these little bikes but now we were mobile and off to the airport. Emra and I were on the back of this little motor bike. It felt like we were traveling 100mph! Darting in and out of traffic, we arrived at the airport safely and found 300-400 hundred people waiting at an airport that was shut down because of structural damage. No one knew when or if the airport would reopen. The UN soldiers from Brazil had no information. I could not identify anyone from the US Embassy. We paid the cycle drivers and said goodbye and prayed with Pastor Yvon before he left to return to his family and church members. Momentarily we felt stuck at the airport with all the other people waiting in the hot sun for the airport to open. Then we saw an old man standing near his old but well maintained SUV at the end of a parking lot. It was as though he was waiting for us. We approached him and inquired about rates for driving us to the Haitian/Dominican border. His fee was triple the normal rate. Members of the delegation tried to haggle about price with him, but I was saying, “Let’s go, let’s just get in the car and go, we do not want to be forced to sleep on the street tonight”. We literally had to pay our way out of the country, paying border guards, immigration workers and drivers on both the Haitian and Dominican sides of the border. But God was with us. We finally crossed the border and reached the bus station but, the bus was leaving as we arrived. As the bus moved slowly, we threw our bags on the bus and jumped on the moving bus – praising God. In seven hours we would be back in Santo Domingo.

By the Grace of God, Pastor Yvon saved our lives. I must do something to help him and his congregation rebuild. I still find it hard to believe the love he showed for people he had only met the day before. To God Be the Glory. As I prepare to return to Staten Island, I’m going to ask the Brighton Heights Reformed Church and the Reformed Church in America to make a long term commitment to not only help the people of Haiti but to also be in partnership with this Haitian Pastor, Rev. Yvon, who demonstrated the love of Christ to visitors from the Reformed Church in America.

We pray for the people of Haiti and their family members around the world.