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Typhoon Survivor: Bernadette

December 16, 2013

Devastation, destruction and disasters are not often things we as human beings can witness without being moved deeply. Putrid smoke, often a by-product of such calamities, rotting food and contaminated water assault the senses. Two short weeks before we arrived in the Philippines, Typhoon Haiyan brought heavy rains and strong winds ? followed by a subsequent sea surge of death and destruction in large swaths in Tacloban.bernadette story2

To the people there, the initial outpouring of aid and relief workers is but a memory ? crowded out by the growing reality of their situation. It will be years before normalcy once again returns to the lives of countless people. 

While conducting assessments, we visited a section of the city along the coast and in the flight path of the airport ? an area decimated by 20 plus feet of water that the locals refer to as ?the Tsunami?. 

Several local residents accompanied us. The catastrophic nature of this kind of damage is always difficult to absorb, and was made even greater by witnessing it through the lives of those it affected most. Twisted steel beams, shattered concrete and the distorted remains of what once was home ? the loss of livelihood, homes and loved ones was palpable.

It was Bernadette LaTorre?s first opportunity to return home after the storm. As she got out of the car, she stopped in her tracks. Tears filled her eyes. Overcome with emotion, she now faced her new reality. She lost her home. Her husband, a local fisherman, lost his livelihood.

Worst of all, the typhoon swept her father away ? and he has not yet been found. Once Bernadette gained her composure, she slowly made her way to where her house once stood ? now a tangled mess of corrugated metal, broken concrete and splintered wood. Immediately, she began rummaging through the mess and memories.

Bernadette accepted our offer to pray for her, and then she made her way to the location where her father?s house once stood. She returned walking towards us, clutching a picture of her deceased mother and her beloved father. The picture was still intact, and the glass ? although covered with slime and mud on the frame ? remained unbroken. She tenderly wiped away the muck to reveal a picture of her ?Mama and Papa? at a much happier time. Her eyes were not the only ones wet with tears that day.

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