[An Earthquake]
On the afternoon of January 12, 2010 a magnitude 7.0 earthquake struck Haiti killing roughly 250,00 and injuring another 300,000.
The year before, I had gone on the first of what would prove to be many medical missions to Nigeria with Horizon International Medical Mission to provide free medical care to people in need in Owerri State, Nigeria. After news of the Haitian earthquake, Doctor Kennedy Okere (HIMM founder) heard the call and organized a medical relief effort to serve the people of Haiti. I was a part of that team as videographer/photographer and general “grunt” worker.
[The President]
This was also around the time the president of the United States (Barack Obama) was scheduled to visit the college I worked at as Facilities Director.
One day in particular I recall one of the clinic workers pointing out that at that very same moment, the president was at my place of employment and wouldn’t it have been nice if I could have been there instead of a earthquake ravaged countryside. I answered, quite honestly, “Nope. I’d much rather be here” as I continued to play Frisbee with several of the children at the medical clinic.
God placed me in that situation for reasons I may never know but I know that’s where I was supposed to be. We saw many things on this trip. Too many to even begin to unpack in this short essay. Suffice to say we saw both medicine and the power of prayer work many honest to goodness miracles.
[A Little Boy]
On our last day, as we rode in the creaky old school bus from our compound near Cabaret, Haiti for the final time to head into Port-au-Prince and our flight home, a few of us saw something that changed our lives forever.
I had just stopped recording video and put my camera away figuring I had plenty of establishing shots of us bouncing over bad roads made worse by the disaster.
As soon as I looked up I noticed the figure of a boy lying on the side of the road, obviously no longer alive. The driver, if he noticed, seemed not to and two or three team members turned their heads to look as we went speeding by; we all had a look on our faces that begged the question, “Why aren’t we stopping?”
The truth is, there was nothing we could do. There was no 911 to call. No police or emergency personnel to respond. This child was not a direct victim of the earthquake but of something else either accidental or horrible. Our idle chatter ceased and that somber mood traveled home with us; reminding us of the tragedy not just as a result of the earthquake, but of the human condition in parts of the world.
Both on the plane to Miami and then on the bus home to Savannah I pulled out my baritone ukulele and tried to write a song to eulogize the boy. I kept trying to write something soft and reflective (think, Tears From heaven by Eric Clapton), but both the lyrics and melody kept turning to more of a Cajun/Zydeco celebratory feel. I finally gave in and wrote down the song that wanted to be written.
The following Sunday when the team was called to give a presentation to our church about the trip, I played and sang The Boy from Cabaret with our worship band. After the service my dear friend Michael Drabek (probably the finest musician and drummer I’ve ever played with) told me, “That was probably the best send-off that little boy could have ever hoped for. I feel like we helped sing him right into the arms of the Father (or Papa, as the Haitians often refer to God, the Father)”.
[Epilogue]
I am blessed to be able to do what I do. My hope is always that my music would touch someone to either make them laugh, reflect, smile...maybe even cry a bit. I believe we are all put on this earth to be a part of each others lives: to help when we can and share one another’s burdens.
I think of that little boy every time I sing this song and I truly believe that he is with his heavenly Papa and is at peace.