We have been overwhelmed by your requests to help us in some way. First of all, thank you to all who have supported us in our work in Haiti for over 10 years. We truly believe God has prepared us "for such a time as this". We are both fluent in the language, We know Port-au-Prince fairly well, We work with a network of volunteers who are eager to help, and we know the God of the Universe who is Haiti's only true hope.
If you would like to send a donation, you can send it to:
Crossworld
10000 N. Oak Trafficway
Kansas City MO 64155
And send a note that it is for the Mears ministry in Haiti (37660), or it you prefer you can send it to the Haiti relief fund at the same address where it will be used for general relief.
Tuesday, Jan 12 2010 5:15 PM
A 7.0 earthquake hits Port-au-Prince around 5:15 PM with violent tremors
Rich was sitting in Joy's old room doing e-mails and was the first out the door yelling for the others in the house to follow. Carol had our dog, Lexi, at her feet in the living room and was also working on the computer. Ricky was giving a drum lesson to Banning, a boy in 6th grade at QCS. They had the door closed because of the noise and were the last out of the house.
When we saw we were all safe, we huddled in a corner of our yard away from a wall and looked around to see what the damage was. The first thing we noticed was water running from our storage depot where our water pump is. So after things calmed down, I went in and shut off the water and saw that the pipes going into the pump were broken. This meant we had no running water for the time being. Also, our hot water heater had fallen over. The refrigerator door had fallen open and bottles had broken all over the floor, and a mirror door was hanging by its hinges, but had not broken. Other than that there was no damage to the house, and Ecdes our Haitian helper was also accounted for. He had been taking a nap in his room when it hit.
Then the neighbors came running up and told us that a pregnant woman's arm was badly broken and she needed to go to the hospital. Ecdes (the 17 year old Haitian boy who lives with us) and I hurried out the door. We try the hospital in our neighborhood, but they tell us they already have too many victims. We go to another clinic, full, and another one we tried was totally destroyed. On the way, we pick up another woman who was crushed when her house fell on her. Others try to jump on, but we tell them we can only take those who are severely injured. We start going to another and get halfway before people tell us it is overwhelmed too. I go to the house of my missionary friend who is a doctor, but he is already out helping people. We go back to the hospital where we started and it is a madhouse. Finally, we try another larger hospital. It is a madhouse as well, but we carry the patients up under a light where nurses are giving I.V's. There is not a doctor to be found! While the family of the wounded we carried try to get care for their loved ones, Ecdes and I grab the first aid kit from the car and try to help as many people as we can. I felt like the cartoon where the dam is springing leaks and the man is trying to plug them with all his fingers and toes. So many thought I was a doctor just because I had gloves on (and I'm bald)!
One of the first people we helped was Isidor. He had a head wound that needed stitches and a badly sprained ankle. All we could do was clean the wound and tell him to elevate his leg and put an ace-bandage on it. No one had any water or ice. Already the hospital was out of supplies. All I had was what was in my meager first aid kit.
Then we helped a woman who I think had major internal injuries. She couldn't stop moaning and had minor cuts that I tried to clean. Many came up to us with people who were very bad, but we could not help them. Some were dying and we couldn't do anything. Anyone who didn't seem that bad off and could walk, I told to leave the hospital, go home and just clean their wounds everyday and try again after a few days because I could see the hospital was completely overwhelmed.
After our meager supplies were exhausted, and we were dead tired, we asked people if they needed a ride out. The family of the woman with a crushed abdomen saw there was little hope of getting aid, and so decided to go home with us. Isidor also saw that his wounds were minor compared to others and came with us as well along with some others.
In the car, Isidor told us his story: He had been carrying his new-born baby down the stairs to go to the pharmacy because the baby was sick. His wife had delivered the baby just 8 days before and was sore because of some stitches she needed after the birth. The next thing he knew, the stairs tumbled beneath him and he shielded the baby with his body, but the baby was injured anyway. Someone took the baby and tried to save him, but they took Isidor to a different hospital a long way from where he lived because all the hospitals were swamped. He said he saw no sense in staying at the hospital and he would try and make his way home, even though his house had collapsed. So I told him he could stay with us for the night. We found out that he was a Christian and we were surprised to see how well he was handling things.
As we dropped off the older woman with internal injuries, she had an “accident” all over the bed of the truck – not a good sign. But she was happy to be home and not at the hospital.
When we got home, we got out all of our mattresses and camping beds and set up Isidor on one, gave him some ibuprofen and he rested as well as possible for the night.
During the night there were several aftershocks and we jumped out of bed and looked around. Needless to say, we did not sleep soundly that night!
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