I got a note from a longtime friend, South Carolina activist Kevin Gray, who recently went to Haiti to help out as well as get educated on what really is going on. It said: ” I ran into some of your people in Port-au-Prince.”

Now, I’m not from Haiti so I was in a bit of a quandary as to what Kevn was talking about, but it turns out that a few close friends from Howard University have been in Haiti doing what they can with the skills they’ve been blessed with. So a very public shout out to Dr. Broderick Franklin and Dr. Greg Banks - both HU contemporaries and hang out partners who very quietly do what they do every day without fanfare.

And to all others who’ve lent a hand in any way they could - THANKS!  —  Eric Easter

Sunday started off benignly enough, with my initial desire to photograph one of the many Catholic masses that took place in the city. I wanted a church that had been badly damaged, but possessed a congregation resilient enough to continue holding services on the site. Didn’t have a real address to anywhere specific, so we (friend and photographer André Chung) decided to cruise by the National Cathedral for starters. A once majestic building with classical architecture, it now resembles the Alamo. The roof has totally collapsed, the outer walls are badly damaged or gone, pieces of the building are scattered everywhere around its base, and one doorway contains two corpses. They were unfortunate individuals who nearly escaped the wrath of the quake and their upper torsos still lay outside of the doorway, their lower bodies covered with rubble just inside the threshold. They sadly missed the rest of their lives by a mere second before succumbing to falling concrete.

In route to the cathedral, we were sidetracked by the site of a Catholic Monsignor walking up the street with all of the purpose in the world – bible in hand and elegantly dressed in a purple and black robe. We jumped from the car and paced him along his walk for a brief time, making photographs as he weaved his way along the narrow sidewalk, peppered with other pedestrians. He indicated that he was in route to deliver mass at a nearby church and we decided to go there. The church was totally destroyed, but the mass itself took place adjacent to one of the many tent cities sprouting up everywhere. The service itself was very sedate and didn’t make a good picture, so we just watched for a while before moving on. We ran into a couple of other good photo opportunities and worked those for a while, but we decided to go downtown near “Crazy Street”. The reason photographers here call it that should be evident.

As we drove into the downtown area (over the usual abundance of debris and trash) and turned the corner onto one of the main drags, it was like seeing the aftermath of the apocalypse. I had been there a few times before, but earlier. This time, the light was just past perfect and helped cast a bizarre feeling to everything. There were several open fires burning in the street, and a cast of obviously desperate people mysteriously moved around like zombies. Some were crawling in and out of the now crumbled buildings, scrounging for whatever useable items they could get their hands on, while others walked around with a semi-dazed look in their eyes with no apparent destination. Power lines hung down everywhere and the occasional smell of rotting flesh passed through the air. Cat sized rats scrambled back and forth, jumping from one hole in the street to another. While backing up to make a photograph, I stepped near the edge of some burned rubble. Upon closer inspection, four human skulls were mixed in with the ashes. We stayed there for a couple of hours, till the light really started to fade, talked with some of the people and made plenty of pictures. Occasionally, there were altercations between some of the scavengers. We kept an eye on that from down the block. You don’t want to get too close and have the anger direct itself towards you. Of course the police showed up to rouse them, only to have them return moments later to continue their quest.

As if it couldn’t get any stranger, thick black smoke started rising from a set of buildings a few blocks away. Someone had just set a store on fire. It was a fully stocked tire warehouse. The fire department showed up and went through the motions, but rubber can burn for days. I don’t know how that turned out, since we had lost all light, it was late and time to pull out. The pictures had dried up and there was really no other reason to be there.

Dudley M. Brooks

We had to change rooms last night. Too many guys with camera gear, computers, cords, bells and whistles for a one bed, single room to handle - we’re up to six in and out room users now. I think. The plan has been in the makings for a few days now, but we finally put it into execution last night – at 11:00pm.

Too much carbon-monoxide was coming in through the window at night, from the generators on the lawn, and we just couldn’t take it anymore. We’re waking up at 5:30am every morning, and being gassed out shouldn’t be part of the plan, especially when you’re rolling until 1:00am the following morning. Had to trade up.

New problem now, we’re deeper into the hotel, facing the downslide of a hill. Had to make the emergency – which way to run plan – if another quake decides to bring down the other half of the hotel. I figure that we have less than 10 seconds to get up three exterior flights of stairs to the pool area, and that’s if we’re not sleep when it hits. Jumping out onto the balcony (the quickest way out) is not a viable option, unless you want to surf down a 45-degree hillside drop in your shorts. I guess it’s back to sleeping in my clothes. –Dudley

The Cubans run a small hospital facility near the National Cathedral in Port au Prince. Actually, to call it a hospital is a stretch – it’s really a series of tents and plastic tarps, supported by tree branches on the lawn of a non-descript building. The waiting room is the open air and patients recover in areas on the lawn, cordoned off by blankets or whatever fabric is found. They do good work here, because they keep people alive. This afternoon there was only one lifeless body. It was covered and pushed way off to the side of the courtyard. I guess this was a good day for the staff. Everywhere I go, I’m constantly amazed by what people can endure and this situation in Haiti is no different.

An older boy, 15 or 16, came in accompanied by his mother to have his arm dressing changed. His head was also wrapped in a bandage and he was clearly in pain. As the medical attendant unwrapped the arm, an eight-inch long gash was revealed, with muscle torn down to the bone. She grabbed a bottle of iodine and poured it directly on the wound. She continued to pour a second bottle, despite his screams. The wound could very well be an amputation, but they can’t do that here. They only have the facilities to treat. It’s a hopeful, not too temporary save. He looks at me making his photograph and I immediately know the look. He wants to be the hard guy, but the pain is too intense. Tears stream down his face, while his mother pats her hand on his chest and lays her head on his shoulder for comfort. This is hard for her too – it’s damned hard for all of us. To witness someone experiencing unbearable pain is a difficult thing - but at least he’s getting treatment.

Dudley M. Brooks

Downtown Port au Prince was packed with people this morning - as usual.  Many of the buildings are piles of concrete now and today’s pre-dawn tremor (registered a 6.1, a quake in my book) didn’t do much to calm the tension.  Disaster does strange things to the human psyche and it takes a person out of their normal state of mind.  Folks are desperate and they need the basics - food, water and shelter, plus anything else that they think they could use.  The police call them looters, but they’re scavengers really.  They’re looking for a way out of this madness that’s been thrown at them - through no fault of their own.  They crawl into the downed buildings, grabbing anything within easy reach.  They ignore structural damage, and the possibility of a collapse, to battle over ragged pieces of cloth.  It’s sad really. To lose everything in the blink of an eye is heavy.

Dudley M. Brooks

6:00am and we just had another aftershock.  We’re all up working (and many waking up) on the pool side area of the hotel. Half of it is already down from the quake and our area is 20 feet away from the wreckage.  It feels strange to feel the ground move under your feet.  This one was short, but fairly strong.  You get from under anything structural and wait it out- then get back to work.

- Dudley M. Brooks

Tags: Dudley, Earthquake, EBONY, Haiti
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