Haitian man's grief started with son's kidnapping

By Scott Taylor

Published in the Deseret News

PORT-AU-PRINCE, Haiti — For most Haitians, their current state of extreme pain and suffering started in the moments following the horrific Jan. 12 earthquake. But for a counselor in the Haitian LDS Mission presidency, Guesno Mardy, heartbreak began Dec. 6, the day his 2-year-old son, Gardy, was kidnapped.

The earthquake and its aftershocks have only escalated his uncertainties and delayed any hopeful resolution.

Over the past six weeks, Mardy has ridden the wildest of the proverbial roller coasters — beginning with the kidnapping of his son.

Then came the earthquake and its immediate impact on his family and his two orphanages. He watched the building that housed his administration offices and employees — including his wife, Marjorie — collapse with the victims inside. He worried about the condition of his 225 "children," orphans cared for by his Foyer de Sion adoption agency in Port-au-Prince and Leogane.

His wife was spared, despite being caught in a collapsed building. All the children at Foyer de Sion are safe and accounted for.

And yet 2-year-old Gardy remains missing, with the date of his third birthday, Jan. 25, quickly approaching.

"It will be very hard that day if we don't get him," Mardy said. "It will be very sad for us."

Shortly after his toddler disappeared, Mardy received a phone call demanding $150,000 for the safe return of his son. The call came from a phone number that he recognized as belonging to a former employee from several years back, but it wasn't the voice of the man who used to work for him.

Over three days, Mardy scrambled to raise a meager fraction of the money — just $4,000 — admitting that $150,000 is an impossible sum for him to ever consider gathering.

Since Gardy is also an American citizen, the FBI was called in and spent a week in Haiti following leads and interviewing the former employee, who was considered a prime suspect. They turned the man over to Haitian authorities and left, while the man was imprisoned during the ongoing investigation.

But the earthquake damaged prisons, and many prisoners either escaped or were released from unstable buildings. The suspect in the Mardy case is back free on the island, and the priority given the investigation by the police dropped astronomically given the death, starvation and thirst blanketing the island nation in the quake's aftermath.

And still no word about Gardy.

But another family member lost and feared dead — Marjorie, the wife and mother of his six children — is alive and well.

She and nine others were in the Foyer de Sion's downtown administrative offices when the Jan. 12 quake severely damaged the building. Mardy, who was in a yard nearby, rushed to the site, trying to reach her by cell phone.

But he could only watch as the building collapsed even more.

"I called her dead when I first heard the news," he said, adding, "I called her dead. I knew I lost my wife."

But soon he heard a familiar voice from the rubble, saying, "Mardy. Mardy. I'm here. I'm not dead."

It took several hours to extract his wife, who had suffered leg, ankle and feet injuries while being trapped. Three other people inside — Mardy's sister, his wife's brother and a close friend — were not so lucky, all perishing in the destroyed building.

Mardy was overjoyed to learn that of the 225 children between the ages of 1 month and 15 years in Foyer de Sion's care, all were safe.

So for Mardy, there are reasons to smile, but smiling is hard when your youngest child is missing for going on two months.

"Sometimes you smile," Mardy said, "but it's not the normal kind of smile. We all have some sort of pain.

"Hopefully, we can find my son alive, that we can be together and sharing the joy every day of the gospel," said Mardy, who has twice served as bishop for a ward of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and once as a branch president.

A member of the Fontamara Ward, he currently is a counselor in the Haiti Port-au-Prince Mission presidency.

Despite the pain and suffering, Mardy tries to march on.

"I have to be courageous," he said. "When I cry, I have to cry outside the home."

It's not the only thing he does outside his house. When other family members go to bed, he heads outside, unable to feel comfortable with the whereabouts of his son still unknown.

"I can't sleep in the house," Mardy said. "As a father with a missing son, you can't sleep. It's constant trauma."