Rising From The Rubble

By Jean-Maurice Duval and Nadine Duval

In Rising from the Rubble, the reader is infused into the fateful day of January 12th 2010 and its aftermath.The story focuses on the earthquake's devastation and the story of one man's struggles and his recovery.

Dr. Duval, an accomplished professional and a consummate family man achieved all of his dreams and was very pleased of all of his intellectual and material acquisitions. Dr. Duval experienced pain and loss along with his nation. This memoir is a saga that recounts the events surrounding a man's near-death experience, agony and eventual triumph over adversity. The sequence of events depicted in the story reminds of a movie thriller more than a natural unfolding of spectacular rescues.

The seemingly impossible but true events were only possible because of the insight of the author as a physician and the wonderful people around him. More than a survival story, Rising from the Rubble is a poignant tale of friendship and generosity.

• Language: English
• Publisher: eBookIt.com
• Release date: Apr 26, 2016
• ISBN: 9781456604745

Book preview

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PART I

CHAPTER ONE:

A Living Nightmare

January 12, 2010…

The kids are playing tennis and the mouth-watering smell of Nadine’s special Cajun spice sauce fills the house, escaping even onto the pool patio where I sit. I am relaxed, wearing my favorite white flannel shirt, shorts and sandals, contemplating the scenic view of the bay of Port-au-Prince, gleaming under the sunshine of a perfect day. My heart rejoices. The sounds of the racquets hitting the tennis balls and the laughter of Cedric, Leo and Vickie rise up to me, like sweet music to my ears. Life is good. Almost too good to be true! The doorbell rings and Nadine calls out to me to go see who is at the gate. Strolling casually toward the front yard, I notice afar Hughes, my beloved long-time friend and business partner. He is holding his cell phone up to his ear, making grotesque hysterical gestures and screaming incomprehensible words. What could possibly be wrong with him? I keep walking and as I get closer, his frantic behavior continues. Jean-Maurice! My name is all I can discern. He is signaling me to look behind me. I start to worry and following his instructions, I turn around. I gasp in surprise. In the near distance, heading in our direction, was a gloomy mass of monstrous dark clouds, rapidly nearing and covering up the clear blue sky like an oil spill staining the ocean waters. It’s like no storm I’ve ever seen before and it’s approaching fast. There is something unusual about it. It feels as if a sense of evil is filling the air and my instinct tells me danger is imminent. I immediately think of the kids on the tennis court and start running back toward the house. Then I remember Hughes. I look back but he is no longer at the gate. In fact, the street the house sits on has suddenly emptied of all people and an uneasy silence has settled all around. I run into the house and call Nadine’s name on my way to the pool patio. No response from her. From the pool lounge, I call the kids’ names, but as I get to the edge of one of the terraces, I notice that the tennis court and the backyard below are empty. I head back into the house and call for my family one more time. Silence… Where have they gone? Bewildered, I head back outside onto the pool patio. The silence is unreal, almost as if the world is preparing for something terrible. I now panic. Anxiety poisons my body. The storm is now almost on top of the house. Suddenly, there it is… A loud raging thunder… So loud as if the sky has just cracked in two. It occurs to me that Nadine and the kids might have taken refuge in the basement. Hurriedly, I run downstairs calling their names once again. Silence still… No sign of them in the basement either. I stand there puzzled, uncertain of my next move. A few seconds go by… Now everything starts to shake. I close my eyes and desperately yell out to my wife and kids another time. Still no response... Instead, just thunder… powerful, loud thunder… violent shaking… and then, complete sudden darkness…

* * * * * *

Such was the dream my brain had manufactured during my unconsciousness. I have always found it really fascinating how the mind can combine elements of reality with a world of strange images, sounds and situations to produce a series of mystical episodes, free of any logic and rationality. For some time, I remained in that latter stage of coma, that period when the mind is about to enter reality but is still hanging on with one string to the world of the unconscious…

Ultimately, I was abruptly snatched out of my nostalgic and sorrowful reverie by an increased awareness of the salvoes of painful screams in the vicinity. In the distance, I could hear a psychedelic chorus of lamentations. Loud moaning and cries of despair seemed to be arising from every direction. As I flickered my eyes open, a swirling cloud of smoke hovered all around, filling the air with particles of dust and mortar, which I could taste. I felt dazed and confused. What was going on? Where was I? While slowly processing the sounds, I started looking around me. Above me, the sky; beside me, grass. I realized I was lying in the backyard, probably thirty feet from the house... The house! Without moving my head, I glanced in the direction of the house from the corner of my eyes. Oh God! The once magnificent two-story structure with its pool lounge and majestic terraces had vanished, reduced to nothing more than an enormous mass of rubble. At that moment, it all came back to me... The dreadful growl like that of a monstrous ferocious animal; the intense vibrations coming from the ground that had shaken up to every cell in my body; my ungainly jumps; my unparalleled panic as I processed what was happening; the feeling of numbness followed by a burst of adrenaline; my superhuman effort to lunge to the nearest door; and finally the roar climaxing into a deafening explosion… then… nothing… nothing else…

* * * * * *

Before this shattering point in time, little did I expect the turn of events in store that would impact so many lives, including mine…

I had just come back from a trip to Georgia, having spent the holidays with my wife Nadine and our three children. This had been a highly anticipated vacation. The kids were all grown up: Cedric, 20, Leo, 18, and Vickie, 14. The boys were progressing well in college while Vickie was maintaining a high-performance level with her tennis, and had just completed a very successful year in her junior career, promising much more success in the future. Nadine had just moved with her to Atlanta, about two months prior to my visit, after an encounter with Brian De Villiers, a very reputable coach, as kind a man as he was generous. Brian had not only granted a full scholarship to Vickie at his tennis academy located at the Racquet Club of the South in Atlanta, but he also provided the hospitality of his house to both my wife Nadine and our daughter, in order to alleviate the financial anxiety generated by the move. A few weeks after, he would graciously welcome the rest of our family for the holiday season. Brian made us feel at home instantly and we all had a wonderful time bonding and reconnecting over the course of the three weeks. We were so happy to be spending some time all together as a family!

After the holidays, I headed back to Haiti on Sunday, January 10. I remember feeling invigorated by the amazing time spent with my loved ones. I was eager to get back to work and committed to establishing the financial grounds for some pressing plans that Nadine and I had conceived for the well-being of our family. On Monday, January 11, since I was still on break for another week from my teaching responsibilities at the University Hospital in Port-au-Prince, my energy was directed toward my other duties. I had to run my private practice and clinic as a medical doctor and administer chores as medical director of the Hôpital de (Hospital of) Turgeau. That evening, I went straight home and enjoyed a long restful night, fortunately not disturbed by any medical emergency calls...

On Tuesday, I awoke to a beautiful day with mild temperatures in the seventies and the sun brightening the clear blue skies, much different than Georgia’s capricious winter weather I had experienced during my stay there. It was another long work day. The clinic was filled over several hours with an uninterrupted flow of patients, and after concluding with my last patient, I rushed back home to honor an appointment with Hughes.

Thus, on this fateful Tuesday afternoon, January 12, 2010, I was in the basement of my home, waiting for Hughes to arrive. As I was in the bathroom washing my hands, my cell phone rang. It was Hughes so I quickly answered, holding the phone pressed between my ear and my shoulder as I rinsed away the soapy foam on my hands. He was at the front gate, which I kept locked because of the constant insecurity in the city, so he could not get inside.

Hey, Hughes, I’m sending Tanya right now to open the gate for you. I just got here! Long day, man! I’m about to grab a bite. I’ll wait for you to join me.

Tanya had been a fixture at the house for many years helping with the cleaning, cooking, and even caring for the kids before their departure abroad. To me, she was part of the family. While Tanya made her way to the front gate to open up for Hughes, I stayed on the phone with him, enduring his customary jokes about my vegetarian diet. As I wholeheartedly laughed, an abominable noise suddenly captivated all my senses. Seemingly coming from the womb of the earth, it was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. Realizing in an instant what it might be, I instinctively leaped over to the nearest door, which led to the backyard. The next few seconds happened so quickly and the last thing I can remember today was pushing the door open before I eventually ventured into the dark world of my unconsciousness…

* * * * * *

In shock, I replayed those last moments in my mind several times. My God, there had been an… earthquake. And now, I lay in the backyard, sprawled on my back, buried up to my chest under a pile of concrete, glass, metal and who knows what else. As I slowly awoke to my dire situation, I felt weak and light-headed. Could this be it? Was this really how it would all end for me? My thoughts immediately drifted to my family. Images of Nadine, Cedric, Leo, Vickie and my oldest son Dimitri, a gift from a previous relationship, flashed in my mind. What would happen to them if I was to leave this earth so prematurely? Dimi, always so needy of my advice, who would he turn to for guidance? How would Nadine find the financial resources for Cedric and Leo to complete their promising education in the United States? How would she continue to fund Vickie’s promising junior tennis career in the United States? How would she find the strength to keep supporting our daughter’s aspiring dreams of becoming a professional tennis player? Ever since they had left Haiti for the United States, over six years prior, due to Haiti’s growing instability, I had been the family’s sole provider. All I ever wanted was to ensure their well-being and meet their financial needs so they would have the chance of finding a bright and promising future in a safe country that offered endless opportunities. At this reflection, a sense of separation I had never experienced before grabbed hold of me. Six years… They had been so far for so long... A few tears slowly strolled down my face…

Regaining my usual rationality, I decided to assess my condition. I had no idea how long I had remained unconscious but judging by the darkness that had begun to set in, it must have been for over an hour. I silenced my mind for a while and turned my head to check my surroundings, but this simple bodily movement sent a jolt of excruciating pain from my neck down through my spine. It was as though I could feel my nervous system being triggered by an avalanche of dissatisfying neural messages. The agony I felt was echoing the litany of supplications resounding incessantly in the distance. I took a long breath to regain my composure, but that too caused unbearable pain, like a dagger through my chest. I knew if I screamed out loud, it would cause more unbearable pain so instead, I grimaced and bit my lip, swallowing the pain. After a few seconds, I carefully tried to move my body, to no avail. I was stuck, buried up to my chest beneath heavy slabs of concrete pinning me down. I could sense a thick, warm liquid streaming down my face and realized I was bleeding quite profusely from either my forehead or head. My entire body was ravaged by atrocious aching. The left side of my neck felt inflated, like a balloon filled with too much air, about to burst. Wishing to check the area, I tried to move my left arm up to my neck, unsuccessfully. My left arm was not responding. I reached across my body with my right hand, in search of the unresponsive arm but all my fingers could find beside me was damp soil. Without any feeling in my left arm, I could not figure out where it was. I continued to pat my left side up with my right hand until I finally spotted my numb limb hanging behind my head, twisted in a very awkward position, unquestionably broken.

Reflecting for a few seconds on my next move, I finally decided to slowly bring my shattered limb down to my side with the help of my right arm. But before doing so, I prepared my mind for another round of afflicting pain. However, to my surprise, the maneuver did not hurt at all. My left arm was completely lifeless. The thought of nerve damage immediately crossed my mind but too distressful to entertain, I decided to ignore it and continue with my self-examination. Gliding my good hand along the left side of my chest, I felt the area extensively swollen all the way up to my bloated neck. A pool of blood and air seemed to have accumulated under my skin, causing the area to expand dramatically. As I carefully touched my neck, I could hear the typical crackling sound of air bubbles. As a doctor, I knew it meant that my left lung had collapsed under probably several broken ribs, and was certainly leaking air and blood into my chest cavity, which was subsequently accumulating under my skin. My injuries were serious and my condition would only deteriorate with time. Without urgent care, God only knew how long my body would be able to hang on. I had to find a way out. Fast!

As I devised a plan of action, the ground suddenly started shaking. Horror immediately shot through my veins and in an instant, my heart began to race. Oh no! Aftershock!... Dear God… Like a scared child in front of a horror movie, I closed my eyes and began repeating the name of God…

CHAPTER TWO:

In the Twilight

The trembling lasted ten to fifteen seconds. Although the aftershock wasn’t very strong, it had been enough to make the mass of rubble around me creak and squeak. Impulsively, I couldn’t help but imagine the possibility of more blocks of concrete falling on top of me, adding more crushing weight onto my already broken body. Terrified, I urged myself to stay calm. Desperation and anxiety was only going to drain my body faster of its remaining strength. I needed to clear my mind of all emotions and impulsive thoughts in order to maintain a composed state of mind. This would be my best tool for making rational and intelligent decisions to overcome this ordeal.

First, I had to find a way to free myself from the large blocks of debris under which I lay captive. Attempting to push them off my body was obviously delusional, more so than the idea of screaming out for help. Not only would screaming demand a great amount of energy but it would probably cause even greater pain. Gathering my thoughts, I remembered the damp soil I had touched a few minutes earlier. It was typical for soil to be damp during this time of year