At 4:53 p.m. on Jan. 12, the world of Haiti missionaries Troy and Tara Livesay literally cracked apart.

The swaying and shaking caused by a 7.0-magnitude earthquake lasted less than a minute at their Port-au-Prince home, and thankfully neither they nor their six children were hurt. But the horrific death and destruction — 250,000 killed and 1 million left homeless — have been a struggle for them to comprehend and have filled their future with uncertainty.

The Livesays endured seemingly endless days of helping victims and trying to get their children out of Haiti. Lawlessness and food shortages prevailed in the Caribbean nation they have called home since 2006. 

This photo of all the Livesay children was taken Jan. 6 in Haiti. Seated: Lydia (left) and Phoebe; Middle (from left): Hope, Noah and Issac: Back (from right): Paige, Britt Bernard and her husband, Chris.

A glint of sunshine pierced their dark personal journey, however, when they arrived in Waco on Feb. 6 and were reunited with their children. The youngsters had come here just days after the earthquake to stay with the Livesays’ eldest daughter Britt, 19, and her husband Chris Bernard, 23, both Baylor University students.  Families and churches have welcomed and supported the Livesays, but the ending to their story is yet to be written. 

Just 11 days after their arrival, the Livesays sat down with Waco Today and described their ordeal. There were tears. There were moments of confusion and moments when they found no words to express what they had lived through. They tell their story so others can know the strength and compassion of a great people they fear are misunderstood. And they tell it with hope that it might help.

It starts on that fateful Tuesday evening of Jan. 12.

Earthquake!

Troy was cooking dinner in the downstairs kitchen of the family’s four-bedroom home. Daughter Phoebe, 3, was in the kitchen, and her younger sister, 2-year-old Lydia, was sitting atop a kitchen counter. Daughters Hope, 8, and Paige, 15, were upstairs in their bedrooms near their mother Tara, who was unpacking from a recent trip to Florida. Sons Isaac, 8, and Noah, 5, were with their tutor a block away at the main facilities of their mission, World Wide Village.

Suddenly the house began swaying side to side, like an ocean liner rocked by violent waves. 

“I thought we were being bombed, was my initial thought. And then I thought, who’s bombing us?” Tara said. “It wasn’t probably until 40 seconds in that Troy said, ‘This is an earthquake.’ ”

As she made her way downstairs, Tara was thrown repeatedly from the bannister to the wall. Lydia was safely caught as the quake jolted her from the kitchen counter. And they all came together downstairs in stunned disbelief. Their children’s nanny, Jeronne, was screaming hysterically. 

Troy, 34, immediately went outside. Aside from some minor cracks, their house was remarkably undamaged. Many homes in Haiti are surrounded by tall concrete walls, so he could not see past his own property. But the eerie silence was haunting. Troy said car horns were going off, but the sounds of everyday life — generators humming, buses passing — were not heard.

Then he saw a huge plume of gray smoke rise high in the sky. All around, he heard people screaming and yelling “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus!” And they were pleading for mercy.

As Troy made his way outside the gate to find his boys, he passed people on the street who were dazed, bloodied and caked in dust from leveled buildings. The air got increasingly thick with smoke and debris, and the screaming got louder and louder.

“A lot of people thought it was the Second Coming or Armageddon,” Troy said. “And I wondered if it was.”

As he ran to look for his boys, panic started to set in. But then he saw them walking toward him, and they appeared to be fine. Unaware of the magnitude of the damage, they complained only that the electricity outage had interrupted the “Batman” movie they were watching. 

In momentary confusion, Troy forgot to check on two American women who were visiting the mission and were in the process of adopting Haitian children. He found them sitting in a courtyard, visibly shocked. The walls of the room where his boys had been were split open like a giant can opener had seared through drywall and concrete. Daylight was streaming in.

That building was the worst-hit at World Wide Village, a Minnesota-based nonprofit Christian organ-ization that offers food, nutrition and women’s counseling and services. The Livesays, who ori-ginally are from Minnesota, have administered programs and finances for the agency — and for Heartline Ministries, a Washington state-based Christian organization that also offers women’s services in Haiti.

Tara and Troy Livesay at their temporary home in Waco.

There was about 90 minutes of sunlight left that first day before deep darkness set in on Port-au-Prince, which is home to about 1.2 million people. Thousands slept in the streets, fearful of aftershocks that would continue to rock the region for weeks to come. 

Immediate aftermath

Troy spent the first night and next day driving around with other missionaries, looking for survivors. By nighttime, they were running low on diesel fuel and there was no way to pump more without electricity. 

“We had to start reducing our circle of travel because we were all running out of fuel and weren’t sure when we would get more. We needed to start conserving,” Troy said.

Tara and other missionaries went door to door and e-mailed colleagues, asking the whereabouts of clients and friends. The Livesays ran their back-up generator constantly for power and worried whether their food supplies would hold.

Phone lines were out. Boulders and debris blocked the roadways, and bodies started to pile up on the streets. Some were covered; some were not.

By Thursday evening they had seen enough destruction and desperation to fear for their children’s safety. Disease and infections were starting to set in. The walking wounded were everywhere, and all 10 of the city’s grocery stores had been leveled. Food riots had started and lawlessness was beginning to set in as the void in police and governmental leadership grew.

Fleeing Haiti

Tara took her children and the two visiting Americans to the U.S. Embassy and waited with 400 others to get them on a flight out. They were given ready-to-eat packaged meals, then they spread out pillows and blankets in an outdoor courtyard and fell fast asleep under bright stars.

About 10:30 p.m., Tara heard a commotion and arose to find those with U.S. passports lining up to get into the embassy vehicles that would take them to a waiting plane at the airport. Embassy officials initially had told her the children would be driven to the bordering Dominican Republic for a commercial flight to the United States. But as she loaded five of her children into black Chevrolet Suburbans, embassy workers told her they would fly directly from Port-au-Prince to a U.S. Air Force base, but they could not tell her which one.

She said letting the children fly without her or Troy was the hardest decision she has ever had to make. Because their Haitian daughter Phoebe’s adoption was not final, and because of the humanitarian work, Troy and Tara were not ready to leave the country they had come to love. But they feared for the safety of their children and wanted to get them out as quickly as possible. 

“I couldn’t have done it if it hadn’t been for those two adoptive moms who were visiting,” Tara said. “I put my children into their hands.”

Each passenger had been told they could take 50 pounds of luggage. But in the line at the embassy they were told they could go with nothing but the clothes on their backs.

“It was interesting to watch people make the decision whether to go or wait for a later flight where they could maybe take their luggage,” Tara said. “Almost everyone who was there that night just left their stuff and went without anything.”

In this image taken from a YouTube video, Tara Livesay (right) comforts a baby with a deep gash on his left arm. 

She did manage to pack one 12-inch bag with diapers for Lydia and put a few dried fruit snacks for the children in the bottom of the bag.

Paige was instantly forced into the role of mother and showed tremendous strength and poise, Tara said, as her sleepy younger siblings prattled on with questions about where they were going and why their parents and sister Phoebe weren’t with them.

After the children left that night, Tara slept in the embassy courtyard because it was too dangerous for Troy to get her at such a late hour. All around her were abandoned suitcases and reminders of those who had fled.

At daybreak, Troy came and excitedly yelled to her from across the courtyard that the kids had landed in New Jersey. The husband of one of the visiting women had called him on an Internet phone and said they all were safe and that flights were being arranged to get the kids to Dallas, where Britt and Chris could pick them up.

“That’s when I lost it,” Tara recalled with tears streaming down her face. “It was such a relief to know that they were somewhere safe and being taken care of. I hadn’t known all night where they were.”

With all but one of their children gone, the Livesays switched modes and worked around the clock until additional help could arrive in Haiti. They rallied other missionaries and business contacts, pulled together medical supplies and food, and began searching for the wounded.

Heartline Ministries, which offers prenatal care among other services, began sending doctors and volunteers on chartered flights filled with supplies. Every day, more volunteers came to the Livesays’ home, which was one of the few in the area not damaged. It became a makeshift hostel, with beds and mattresses lining the living and dining rooms. 

A sewing room at the World Wide Village compound near their home, where dozens of Haitian women made purses for Heartline to sell and sustain the ministry, was transformed into a hospital and surgical ward with a steady stream of operations and amputations.

The Livesays and missionary colleagues spent their days driving around locating the injured to bring to the compound gates. They barely rested as more and more kept coming.

“Those conditions are like what I would imagine hell to be like,” Tara said. “Everywhere you turn there is a new problem and everyone is trying to solve the problems, but nobody can do it well and there is no easy solution. And for every problem solved, there is another.”

In one video posted on the Internet, Tara holds the left arm of a 6-month-old baby who suffered a deep gash below the elbow that almost severed the limb. As a doctor cleans the wound, Tara holds firm to the little hand, offering comfort. The one time she looks into the camera, she appears haggard and emotionally drained.

Haitian women who sew purses had to go outdoors to work because their sewing room was being used as a hospital.
Photo by Troy Livesay

She and Troy later admitted that those days blurred together. So did the tragedies. And although she knew she was doing God’s work, she still missed her children. They had been living in Waco since Jan. 15 with Britt and Chris, who is aquatics director at the Waco Family YMCA.

“I can’t even imagine what is going through Troy and Tara’s minds,” Chris said three days after the children had arrived. “They must face such turmoil and struggle with what the Lord has called them to do and yet having to be away from their family at this time.”

The children would stay with the Bernards for the next three weeks. Tara’s mother, Caroline Porter, came up from South Texas and helped with the children, and several area churches donated clothing, toys and gift cards. CrossRoads Fellowship Church, where Chris is youth director, welcomed Paige into its teen group. Even the Baylor Riding Association offered to get Paige on a horse after hearing that English riding was her favorite pastime back home.

In Haiti, the death count was rising daily. Bodies were dumped in mass graves and thousands who had not sought medical attention after the earthquake were now suffering from secondary infections and worse. Some began showing up at the Livesays’ missionary hospital with gunshot wounds and injuries from fights over food.

Tara knew they had made the right choice in sending the children. They were in a better place.

‘Don’t forget me’

At times all of the misery gave way to anger. 

On their family’s missionary blog, Tara expressed frustration and urged aid workers not to come unless they spoke Creole or had medical backgrounds. “We cannot feed you and we don’t have a place to house you,” she wrote. Indeed, strangers showed up daily at the Livesays’ home, some being driven by U.S. embassy staffers who didn’t know what else to do with them. Once on the ground, volunteers often could not get in touch with their organizations because there was no cell phone service.

In the wake of such tragedy, though, the Livesays did witness courage, fortitude, compassion and unyielding love that they say could come only from God’s grace. Haitian women especially showed tremendous strength and perseverance. Despite profound losses, they were finding ways to go on.

Two weeks after the quake, a dozen women showed up at the compound ready to work and sew purses in hopes of making money for their families. With their normal sewing facilities taken over by doctors and patients, they set up their machines in a courtyard and began sewing purses from recycled burlap, rice sacks and other fabric scraps.

With the world’s attention on Haiti, international demand for the purses skyrocketed and the women could hardly keep up.

Through Heartline, women are taught to sew and manage their finances in the hope they’ll open their own sewing businesses and save enough money to buy homes. The remaining proceeds are put into a women’s health program, which offers prenatal and midwife classes. Haiti is the poorest nation in the Western Hemisphere and has one of the highest mortality rates for infants, children under age 5 and mothers, according to UNICEF. The country also has 85 percent unemployment and very limited agricultural production. Most goods must be imported and are extremely costly, especially when the average Haitian earns just $2 per day.

Isaac shows off a new hermit crab the family bought in Waco that is like the crabs found on the beaches of Haiti.
Photo by Rod Aydelotte

But that doesn’t mean Haitians aren’t hard workers, the Livesays attest. Many are out selling goods, bartering and trading each day to earn enough for their next meal. And they do it with a dogged determination and joy.

“You can’t go there without noticing how people live with such joy, with absolutely nothing compared to what we have here,” Tara said. “It’s pretty hard not to be inspired by them.”

Medical care is a luxury not affordable to most Haitians. They often die at their homes of unknown causes, Tara said. So following the quake, many lay unattended in the rubble, never seeking help.

One woman, Collette, was seven months pregnant and had suffered a broken pelvis, broken femur and had internal infections. She had gone to a Haitian clinic after the quake where they set her broken leg and gave her a catheter. But it had not been changed since and was now infected. Her labor pains started, but there was no way she could deliver a baby with the broken pelvis.

When Troy found her, she’d been lying under a tarp for six days. He hated to leave her, but he had to find help to properly move her. As he was leaving, Collette lifted her head and said to him, “Pa bliye’m,” which means “Don’t forget me,” in her native Creole language.

Through what they describe as a miracle, the Livesays got her on a helicopter flight. She was one of the first to be airlifted onto the Navy’s USNS Comfort medical ship, where surgeons performed a C-section and multiple surgeries. Collette and her new daughter, Esther, returned to the Heartline hospital for follow-up care on Feb. 16, 10 days after Troy and Tara had departed for Waco.

Texas transplants

The Livesays missed their children terribly, so the decision to leave Haiti was inevitable. Phoebe had already joined her siblings in Waco after the Haitian government declared that children with adoptions in progress could leave under humanitarian parole.

Tara Livesay hugs her daughters as the family is reunited Feb. 6 in Waco.

So on the chilly morning of Feb. 6, Troy and Tara arrived in Waco to be reunited with their children. They took up residence in a fully furnished missionary home offered by Columbus Avenue Baptist Church.

Although they welcomed the comfortable surroundings, the chattering of their children and the opportunity to rest, they also felt torn. And displaced. Although Tara was returning to Haiti for two weeks in late February to help with the sewing program, she knew they would not all be living there anytime soon.

“We have said many times that we just wish we could go back to Jan. 11. As bad as things were in Haiti before, at least we knew what to expect and we had figured out a way to live there,” Troy said. “Now that’s changed and there is too much uncertainty.”

They left without knowing the fate of the many Haitian women they served. They left their home full of belongings. They left missionaries and Haitian friends such as Jeronne. They left their 200-pound mastiff dog Peanut. And they left a simple way of life they adored.

Regardless of where they go next, they say the idyllic image of Haiti will forever live in their hearts and minds. The Livesay children even prefer to speak Creole to each other, and it’s Lydia’s primary language. 

Here, the hustle and bustle sometimes is too much for them. Stores have too many products, and they are easily overwhelmed when shopping. But they also relish the new pleasures, such as watching their children stomp on soft, green grass — not prevalent in Haiti — and reuniting with Britt as one big family.

Whatever their future holds, they vow not to return until they are certain that Phoebe’s adoption is secure and that she will be allowed to leave again. They have two years to finalize the paperwork, but most of that remains buried under rubble and is nearly impossible to verify.

“We are not ready to close the door on going back to Haiti,” Tara said, adding they had planned to stay at least three more years until Paige is ready to start college. “It’s like with everything in Haiti — we’ll just wait and see,” she said. “You have to live ready for change.”

LIVESAYS’ BLOG

For more information on the Livesays, read their blog at www.livesayhaiti.blogspot.com.

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