Day 10: January 21, 2010

I was told to be at the airport two hours early to assure that I was able to get through the lines, out to the tarmac and onto the plane. It was very important that the plane was prepared to depart at our timeslot of exactly 1:10 PM. With only one runway, the flight traffic was so heavy that there was a chance we would not be able to depart at all if we didn’t make it.

I definitely still had mixed feelings about departing Haiti. Of course I wanted to get back to see my wife and relieve family and friends of their concerns about my well being. And yes, I was looking forward to contributing to management meetings in our HQ office. But at the same time I felt a lot of guilt. I told myself that no matter what I would refuse to spend any more than one week back in Florida.

There were crazy lines outside the airport when I arrived. Commercial flights were closed, but because free rides to the U.S. were being given to U.S. citizens, thousands of people were trying their chances. U.S. immigration had taken control security and I noticed a few Haitian-American servicemen walking around helping out with translation. As I stood line awaiting my turn, I noticed that about one out of every three people who showed up was getting turned away. It was sad to see loved ones separated from each other because of lack of proper documentation. People were desperate and were ready to do anything to get out of here.

The owner of the jet, who had flown in to deliver supplies to Save the Children, was on his way home to New York but had agreed to stop in West Palm Beach to drop me of and refuel. This could not have been any more convenient as my wife works in West Palm Beach and would be getting out of school just as the plane touched down.

The jet was impressive. I have done a lot of flying over the last 10 years, but nothing like this. There were only four seats in the front area, a dining table in the middle section, and then beds to lie down on in the back. It was a shock to see, and couldn’t have been any further from the misery I had been around for the past 10 days. My thoughts were scattered. On one hand I felt even guiltier for leaving Haiti in these high-class conditions. On the other hand, I thought “man is this sweet.” I was totally exhausted. As I looked at the chair I tried to guess how for back the seat might adjust.

I was standing in the aisle talking to the pilot when all of a sudden a little old Haitian man walked onto the plane and quickly sat down right next to us. He held a Haitian passport tightly in his lap. When the pilot asked him, “Can I help you sir?” he replied in a very broken accent “Good morning sir.” The pilot asked again, “Can I help you sir?” Obviously not understanding, the man again responded “Good morning sir.” After escorting him off the plane, the pilot told me that just before I had arrived, about 10 Haitians hid in the back of a box truck and made their way around security and out to the tarmac. They were caught and hit with tear gas by U.S. military before being turned away. The pilot wisely checked the baggage compartment twice to make sure nobody was hiding there before takeoff.

The flight was quick and comfortable. As we flew over West Palm Beach, I looked down at the rows of nice homes and swimming pools below and couldn’t help but to imagine everything crumbled to the ground. As the days passed, I realized more and more that the images I had seen in Haiti would stick with me forever.