Home from Haiti for Latter-day Saint volunteers

By Rachel Sterzer
Church News staff writer

"No one will ever know the full measure of the good they have accomplished," said Steve Studdert concerning the Utah Hospital Task Force — a 125-person team of doctors, nurses, emergency medical technicians, building contractors and interpreters. The group returned from the desolate remnants of earthquake-stricken Port-au-Prince, Haiti, Friday, Feb. 12, after a 16-day relief mission.

Tom Smart, Deseret News

Steven Studdert, center, speaks with John Nichols and Erin McBride, members of the executive team of the Utah Hospital Task Force, as they prepare to depart from Salt Lake City to Haiti on a 16-day relief mission. 

 

Although not Church sponsored, the task force consisted primarily of Latter-day Saint volunteers, including 75 Creole-speaking returned missionaries.

Despite experiencing emotional and physical strain from working among seemingly relentless need, Brother Studdert, the chairman of the task force, said, "Each of the teams served tirelessly and with extraordinary selfless dedication while we were in Haiti, and they were each truly unbelievable."

Photo courtesy Justin Bowen

Volunteer Lisa Daines smiles with Haitian children at one of the makeshift clinics put together by the Utah Hospital Task Force in Port-au-Prince, Haiti. Medical teams often treated patients in rudimentary conditions.

 

While there the medical teams provided healing care in an exceptionally harsh environment. They treated wounds, set broken bones, delivered babies, tended to illness and infection, and performed amputations — sometimes along roadsides and in refugee camps.

Photo courtesy Justin Bowen

A Church meetinghouse in Haiti has turned into a refuge for members whose homes were destroyed in the earthquake.

 

Photo courtesy Justin Bowen

Utah Hospital Task Force volunteer Dr. Brad Arnold provides care for an infant while her mother looks on.

 

Brother Studdert said that their medical professionals provided key leadership services at three overwhelmed Port-au-Prince hospitals. Utah Hospital Task Force doctors were put in charge of two main departments; one nurse was made director of nursing for a several-hundred bed hospital; and one physician became the medical director for that hospital for the duration of their stay in the country.

Photo courtesy Justin Bowen

Rod Miller, a member of the Utah Hospital Task Force, dances to entertain Haitian people at one of the improvised clinics in Port-au-Prince, Haiti. Such entertainment helped many Haitians experience a moment of normalcy.

 

An interpreter was assigned to each medical team. The force of returned-missionary interpreters became one of their "most praised assets."

"They were so totally invaluable in translating for doctors and nurses and comforting frightened patients," Brother Studdert said.

Photo courtesy Justin Bowen

The Church's Leogane meetinghouse in Haiti has turned into a refuge for members whose homes were destroyed in the earthquake.

 

Photo courtesy Justin Bowen

Justin Bowen holds one of many orphans visited during the Utah Hospital Task Force mission to Haiti.

 

In addition to interpreting for medical teams, the task force interpreters were called upon to interpret at U.S. Army sentry points, to accompany U.S. Army ambulances, advise U.S. Navy evacuation helicopters, accompany food convoys and assist Disaster Medical Assistance Teams among other interpreter duties requested by the U.N., USAID, World Health Organization, Red Cross, Catholic Relief Services and others.
"Where military and police [feared] food riots, these gentle former missionaries, with their language and cultural understanding and their great smiles, instantly calmed the crowds and brought peace and order," Brother Studdert said.

Photo courtesy Justin Bowen

The Church's Leogane meetinghouse in Haiti has turned into a refuge for members whose homes were destroyed in the earthquake.

 

The task force construction workers were also hard at work; first in assisting the Helping Hands for Haiti assess and repair their buildings, and then in helping the U.S. Army to assess the structural status of several facilities. Under the direction of the local stake presidents and priesthood quorum leaders, they also inspected several members' homes.

Photo courtesy Justin Bowen

One of the 141 orphans approved for departure waits patiently aboard a U.S.-bound plane.

Another important part of the Utah Hospital Task Force mission objective was to assist in the clearance of orphans destined for American families. After meetings with Haiti's minister of social services, the minister of foreign affairs, the first lady, the prime minister and the president of Haiti, as well as multiple meetings with the U.S. ambassador and other U.S. officials, they were able to clear 141 orphans to the United States. Nearly half of the orphans were headed to Latter-day Saint homes.

Upon departing for the return to Utah, the task force donated remaining supplies. Medical equipment was given to local hospitals and the Healing Hands for Haiti clinic, building tools were given to stake presidents for members to use in their home repair and hundreds of tents were provided for Church members in need, including a member of the Haiti Mission Presidency operating an orphanage.
Brother Studdert said many task force workers upon departure gave their cash and clothing to destitute Haitians, especially members. In the Army convoy heading to the airport to return home, some workers gave away their shoes to Haitians who had none. One elderly Haitian man who had lost his only daughter and her family in the earthquake could not read his only book, the Bible. One task force EMT gave him his reading glasses.
"The trip was grueling and exhausting, yet simultaneously a humbling spiritual feast, as we felt the hand of the Lord in our labors and witnessed the resilient spirit in the beautiful faces of the Haitian people and heard their expressions of faith in Jesus Christ," Brother Studdert said.

For example, an old, injured woman told him, "I have no food, I have no home, I have no family — they were all killed in the earthquake — but I have God, so I am OK."

"We could not have done this without the Lord's direct help," Brother Studdert said. "Heavenly Father has blessed this effort beyond expectations."

Suffer the Little Children

Published in Meridian Magazine

Written by Randon Draper

Lt. Col. Draper has been helping to get the remaining children from our group home. He's been a true hero for us during this ordeal.

Editor’s Note: Randon H. Draper is an LDS Lt. Colonel in the U.S. Air Force, and as an attorney on the ground in Haiti, found himself in a unique position to help the approved and documented Haitian orphans actually leave the country for their adoptive homes.  He’s never seen such miracles before in his work, and he shares his story here.

I landed in the darkness of the Port-au-Price international airport at 0400 on the morning of 14 January 2010, less than thirty-five hours after Haiti’s devastating earthquake.  Little did I know that my time here in Haiti would be one of the most profound spiritual experiences in my life as I worked to help transport adopted orphans to their families. I certainly did not anticipate that I would come to more fully appreciate the Savior’s admonition, “Suffer the little children to come unto me…”

The C-17 Globemaster is the workhorse transport of the US Air Force

As an Air Force attorney assigned to support the 621 Contingency Response Wing (CRW), I received six hours notice to depart my home base at Scott AFB, IL so I could drive to the airport and link up with the CRW at McGuire AFB, NJ.  After last minute adjustments to my pre-packed bags, and hurried good-byes to my wife, Anne, and our children, and last minute instructions to my seventeen-year-old son to help his brother complete his last pinewood derby, I departed for the airport and found my way to McGuire AFB.  There, we boarded a C-17 Globemaster, the workhorse of the Air Force, and flew to Toussaint Louverture International Airport.

When we arrived, there were faint lights on the dark hillside above the airport, but it was deathly quiet.  We began the work of setting up camp between the ramp and the runway.  The work of the CRW would bring in desperately needed supplies to a crippled nation in with a very small airport.  I was there to support this effort.

When operations began, I watched a well-orchestrated ballet of aircraft coming with supplies and leaving with evacuees.  I knew I would be working legal issues involving rules of engagement, contracting (for such luxuries as port-a-potties), and claims if we break things in the host nation (less concerns for that one here, unfortunately), but I wondered what unique issues this operation would have for me.  I had no idea that I would engage in the most satisfying work of my Air Force career–- helping to get orphans out of the country to their adoptive parents.

The adoption process requires both processing from the Haitian government and an adoption in the United States.  Prior to the quake, most adoptions would take up to two years or longer and would require a number of visits by the adoptive parents.  While it required government processing to complete the adoption, the parents and children were bonded to each other in their hearts and minds at the very beginning of the process.  They were, in the best of ways, already families; and on the 12th of January 2010, these families were separated by a crisis.

Within the first few days of the CRWs heaviest work of around-the-clock flight operations, I was tasked by senior leaders in the states to locate five children who were at the tail-end of their adoption, help process them through and get them on aircraft to their parents in the states.  As I went about this work, I felt the movings of the Spirit directing the course of events to bring these children home.  This event set the stage for many more miracles to come.

During the first two weeks, there seemed to be no end to the amount and urgency of the work which was only interrupted by four hours of sleep each night. Throughout my day, I would find organizations engaged in their own relief efforts and would learn of a need they had.  Keeping their contact information, I would go about my day with a prayer in my heart, that I could assist as many as I could, while engaged in my primary responsibilities.  I was in awe with the number of times I would come a across another organization that had the solution for the first organization in need.  I would marry them up, so solutions could be found.  The Spirit then guided, as it does still now, this work for others who labor for their brothers and sisters.

Although my deployment duties usually involved working large groups of adoptees through the process and on to military aircraft, I was tasked in a variety of ways to locate specific children with a various specific issues preventing their travel to the states. In one particular case, I was asked to locate a child for whom her parents waited, but for whom there was no record at the embassy.  Many files had been jumbled by the quake, and workers there were dealing with the personal impact of the crisis on their own homes and families.

I prayed for answers hoping that maybe someone could now marry up my need with an organization that would help. As I pondered over the child’s adoption paperwork that her parents provided, I recognized the name of a person whom I had met just two days before, as he came through the airport escorting a group of adoptive children.  For some reason I had written down his contact information, something I did not have in the adoption paperwork.  I was able to contact him and receive information needed to locate the girl’s paperwork.  By the end of that day, the child was on a plane heading for home.  The spirit surged in my heart, as tail of her aircraft lifted off into the Caribbean night air.

When I laid on my cot in the darkness later that night, I pondered on the undeniable promptings of the Spirit that had directed me in ways I had never before experienced with such consistency, helping me, and others as well, at every step in this work of getting children to their families.  Then for a moment, it was as though I could hear thousands of voices and thousand of prayers crying out for their children in this desperate time of need.  This was followed by an ushering forth of the Spirit which opened for me a brief glimpse of our Father's pure love for His littlest ones.  It was a feeling I have never before experienced; and it surpassed even the profound emotions felt at the birth of my own children.  I knelt to the side of my cot and silently wept, not wanting to wake others in the tent.

My experience that night drove my resolve as I advocated, at times against opposition, for a variety of needs to help the process in transporting the military’s most precious cargo.  That experience clarified my understandings that no matter how hard I work, this work belongs to our Father.  He knows the prayers of mothers and fathers, and He regards the tender hearts of His little ones as pearls of great price.

Shortly after this experience, I met the Utah Hospital Task Force, a cadre of medical staff and returned missionary translators.  Their spirits rekindled and strengthened mine.  Dear to the work in which I was engaged, their efforts made it possible to return a large group of adoptees to their parents.  They shared with me their experiences, which witnessed the miracle of reuniting families.

After the main group of the adoptees traveled from Haiti with the help of the task force, fifteen remained behind for a variety of issues that held up their processing.  Chareyl Moyes, a program manager with an adoption agency in Utah, and I teamed up to work on their return. Though distances apart, we added our prayers to the many others (including those of my own family back home) as we worked each child’s case – each needing a different solution and divine intervention, and all receiving an answer.  As I write this, only one remains in Haiti.  Her approval in the states was granted. We now only wait for the formality of approval from the Haitian Prime Minister.

Lt. Colonel Randon Draper comforting an orphan before evacuation from Haiti.

The work has not been easy.  There have been frustrations, set backs and downright opposition.  I have experienced both my highest highs and my lowest lows all within a day, and it starts all over the next day again.  My greatest reward for my token efforts in a work much greater than what man can do alone is in holding the little children who wait to be reunited with their families. I feel renewed strength and unmatched peace; I find refuge in the mist of a land in turmoil.

In the first week after I arrived, I overheard a young Air Force officer lamenting to a friend that he was returning home from his duty without having accomplished all that he wanted to do. I took an opportunity to interrupt, and reminded him that if he were here for six months, he would likely be saying the same thing – that we all want to get our hands dirty digging out those buried and dying, but we must be content to “lift where we stand” (quoting President Dieter Uchtdorf).  We do our small part and move on to the next task hoping that our efforts have made some difference to our fellow man. 

As I will depart within a week, I feel as the young officer did, and must now follow my own advice.  My experiences in Haiti will never be forgotten.  They have forged for me an understanding of the power of prayer, and the love of our Savior for the tender heart of each small child. It will be my time to look forward to my next task, but now with an even more understanding heart of the will of our Father for his children.

More Pics from Lt. Col. Draper

The Destruction of Haiti

By Scot Facer Proctor

Published in Meridian Magazine

Photography by Scot Facer Proctor

Editors’ Note:  Meridian’s Editor-in-Chief and Publisher, Maurine and Scot Proctor, are still serving in Haiti, gathering stories and meeting with members of the Church throughout the hardest hit areas of the island.  In this essay Scot takes us to some of the old part of the city in Port-au-Prince where destruction was no respecter of buildings or people.  Untold thousands of bodies are still buried in the massive rubble of concrete and twisted rebar.
 

There is a curfew in Port-au-Prince right now of 6:00 PM.  It is for our safety.  I wanted to take you to the heart of the destruction in the city and capture it in the evening light.  We broke curfew by nearly an hour to capture the last few pictures, but I wanted to show you a little of what happens to the city at night.

Shooting from inside of our vehicle I was able to just barely capture the ironically labeled sign:  Bienvenue a Port-au-Prince—Welcome to Port-au-Prince.

Many of the Haitians don’t want their pictures taken in the midst of the destruction, like this young man.  I have deep respect for these people, many of whom tarry around their homes where loved ones are still buried beneath tons of concrete.

In many cases whole blocks were completely destroyed, leveled to piles of rubble.  What has surprised me as we have met with the Haitian people is their resilience and willingness to pick up and carry on in the midst of this massive destruction.

This six-story building collapsed one floor intact upon the next floor and flattened into a heap.

Notice the curtains that are hanging out where the windows used to be.  Many people were trapped in this building.

The Presidential Palace was said by some to be the only building in Haiti that could withstand a major earthquake.  It, too, was essentially destroyed.

Detail of the destruction of the Presidential Palace is shown here.  The seat of government of Haiti is now located in an old police station.

The Justice Palace was also leveled by the quake on January 12.  This building is located just around the corner from the Presidential Palace.

The mixture of the stench of death and the fine dust that constantly mixes in the air causes many to walk through the city with masks.

Some buildings remained somewhat intact but just fell off their foundations.  Untold billions of dollars of damage has been done.  I asked one proprietor if he had insurance, he gave a deep and sad chuckle and said, “Unheard of.”

Because of the collapse of numerous buildings, some streets are narrowed to one lane or blocked altogether.  There is no electricity in any part of the city (without a generator) and the water system, however inadequate it was before, is completely destroyed.

Evening was approaching fast and our driver was anxious to keep us going fairly quickly through this downtown area of Port-au-Prince.  No one has counted the number of buildings destroyed by the earthquake and the more-than 63 aftershocks.  Surely it numbers in the hundreds of thousands of structures completely decimated.  The majority of the members of the Church in Haiti are now without homes or adequate shelter.

The streets do not become quiet as evening falls.  More and more people come out to socialize and to get away from the buildings, sleeping in side streets, open areas and parks.  More than a million people have been displaced.  Some estimate that number throughout the country to be closer to three million.

Some buildings are just barely hanging on by the edge of a pillar or a few pieces of smooth rebar.  The whole downtown area is very dangerous to traverse.

Some of the bodies that were trapped or not removed for some weeks (as this one) were finally burned to try to cut down on the unbearable smell.  Many bodies are still in the streets and are visible in the rubble, although the government has tried to make a great effort to bury as many bodies as they can as quickly as possible.  Nearly half the police force of Port-au-Prince were killed in the quake.

One of the problems with many of these buildings is that they were built with smooth steel rebar—no ridges on the rebar at all—so that when this kind of shaking occurs, the concrete just slips right away from the rebar and crashes to the earth.

Billions of tons of rubble lie in the streets of Port-au-Prince and throughout Haiti.  How long will it take to clean up from this disaster?

Personal items are strewn throughout the streets.  Some people walk along scavenging various items and then try to resell or reuse them elsewhere.

Heavy equipment is at a premium in Haiti.  Seeing one of these machines is a real rare site.  A thousand brand-new machines like this one would barely scratch the surface of the problems that face Haiti now—just in clean up alone.

Numerous buildings completely collapsed, killing all within them, or all but a few.

People in Haiti are more resilient than you would think.  One brother told us that Haitians are used to disappointment and so they have to try to be happy.  These people here have set up little shops, selling what little they can find, gathering a few cents here and a few cents there, then they try to buy what scarce food is available.

Structures from the 19th and early 20th century (as well as nearly all from the 18th century) were toppled and destroyed in downtown Port-au-Prince.

Many men work amongst the rubble to find scraps of steel and metal to try to sell or use in fabrication of other useful items.

Thousands of piles of broken furniture and junk have been piled everywhere.  The cleanup process is almost unfathomable.

These carts are common in Haiti, with one man able to pull along hundreds of pounds of material.

Smoke and fine dust fills the evening air and a near-constant breeze, mixed with daily temperatures in the 80’s (Fahrenheit) makes this area a health hazard for breathing.

Power lines are downed all over the city with some of them covering one entire lane of traffic, narrowing the roads in many areas.  Because the power grid was destroyed, most of the lines are not live, but one can never trust that assumption.

Some people just sit and stare and wonder what they can possible do with their lives now.  Unemployment has soared in most areas to 80 percent.  When asked what people are planning to do with their future, almost all just shrug their shoulders and say, “I just don’t know.  I have no idea whatsoever.”

The “Tap-Tap” is the common mode of travel in Port-au-Prince, a pick-up truck with a small shell.  Turning around in the downtown can be very tricky.  Most people will  not stand or park by any building for too long for fear that it could completely topple any minute.

Here the destruction cut off the street altogether except for a small place for pedestrian traffic.

Here a many tries of find unbroken cinder blocks he cobbles from a destroyed building.  Perhaps he will try to rebuild his home.  There are almost no Haitians who will go into their homes by night for fear of being crushed in another aftershock.

Side streets are packed with people and trash.

Scenes like this are common throughout Haiti.  Note the saying written on wheelbarrow.  People here turn to Jesus all the time.  Cries for Him were heard throughout the land on January 12, 2010.

The smoke in early evening begins to fill the air and more and more people come from everywhere into the streets.

When we had planned to come down here a couple of weeks ago, I talked to my brother about how they could begin to deal with collapsed concrete buildings.  He said that the only way you can clean them up is with heavy equipment.  I whole-heartedly agreed.

As I have observed now hundreds of times, many of these buildings are being torn apart with two or three men using a sledge hammer, a hack saw and a bucket.  I was wrong about the heavy equipment.

Extremely hard-working men break the concrete apart, piece-by-piece, then cart it off in a five-gallon bucket.  Their average pay:  $2.00/day/person.

Trash is piled up in the streets, like this, everywhere.  The sanitation system in Haiti has never been good but now it is compounded a thousand fold by the apocalyptic destruction.

People collect everything they can, like pieces of cardboard, to use for making fires to boil some water to make what little rice they can find.  Food is in great shortage here and people are very hungry.

The burning trash piles create an environmental nightmare throughout the nation.

This cathedral, one of the great landmarks of Port-au-Prince was also essentially destroyed.

Ironically the Notre Dame Catholic Cathedral with its two domed towers on its west face was one of the first in the world to be built from reinforced concrete.  It didn’t survive the quake.

Many people mourn the loss of this church.

As night falls upon the city, the streets become more and more dangerous.

Large intersections in the city’s upper streets become campgrounds for hundreds of people every night.  People are homeless and are terrified of further aftershocks.  We had to drive over some of the blankets to get through here—many people were upset by this.

The youth are out very late finding scrap metal and gathering things to sell.  At this point, it was time to head home.