Micheline Sterrett, currently living at Beecher Manor Nursing and Rehabilitation Center, has been fighting back tears as she watches the devastation of the earthquake that struck her native country of Haiti on Jan. 12. With communication lines down, watching the news and word-of-mouth have been her only sources of information on her friends and relatives still living near Port Au Prince. Micheline is making her home at Beecher Manor for a few months while recovering from surgery on her leg. photo by Lynn Dill

Haiti earthquake hits close to home for local woman

Lynn Dill - Reporter
January 21, 2010 - Neighbors

It's painful for Micheline Sterrett to watch the devastation left behind after a 7.0 magnitude earthquake hit Haiti, her native land, on Jan. 12.

She has remained glued to television news stations for updates.

Sitting with Micheline for this interview, her eyes fill with tears and she says, ''I have a lot of friends and relatives, and I don't know what's happening to them.''

A native Haitian who moved to the United States in 1956 at the age of 19, Micheline, 72, makes her home in Sauk Village. Recently, she has been staying at Beecher Manor Nursing and Rehabilitation Center in Beecher as she recovers from surgery on her leg.

Describing her reaction to the images of the earthquake on the television screen, she says, ''It's beyond words when I see these places on television.''

Micheline was born in the capital city that now lies in ruins. She later moved to nearby Christ-Roi where she lived with her mother and 10 older brothers. Her father died when she was young; but, with so many older brothers, she had more than enough father-figures to take his place.

Her voice breaks with emotion as she describes seeing the cathedral in Port Au Prince destroyed. She said that everyone in her family had been married at the cathedral when she lived in Haiti. She said that she understands that the Sacred Heart of Jesus Church in Port Au Prince was leveled and that the only thing left standing was a statue of Jesus.

Micheline said that her mother not only raised her and the five brothers remaining at home when her father died, but also the two children of her aunt that died, and another child that her mother adopted. She did all of this on a seamstress's salary, and with the help of Micheline's older brothers.

''We always had food and clothing, and all of us attended Catholic school,'' she says.

All of her brothers graduated from college. She recalled that one of her brothers was only the second Latin American student to graduate from West Point in the United States. Later, he returned to Haiti where she said he headed a West Point academy to try and help strengthen the army. Four of her brothers served in the army.

She said that another brother was the president of Royal Bank of Canada in Haiti. He was a great friend of the Catholic ''sisters'' that lived in a home across the street from her family, and that he would bring them gallons of French wine. In return, they'd bake pies and send them home to him. ?

She still wonders if the nun's home or St. Rose de Lima, the school she attended, is still standing. It's been difficult for her to learn about the smaller communities surrounding Port Au Prince. She said that all of the news channels have centered on the capital city and little is known about these other areas.

She's anxious to receive news about other areas such as Christ-Roi, Delmas, Bourdon, Petion Ville and LaBoule. On some nights she's watched the news until 2 a.m., waiting for coverage of these areas - where family and friends still live - but to no avail.

''I don't know if reporters can't get into these other areas, but there aren't any reports coming out in the news,'' Micheline says.

The only news she's received has been through word-of-mouth. She learned that her girlfriend's mother had survived, through her friend in Miami. This same friend told her that a cousin's house (her friend's cousin) in Christ-Roi was leveled, along with the little Catholic church in the community. She assumes that her childhood home is also gone, since it was near the church.

Fighting back tears, she says, ''I'm just glad that my mother and brother died before this (the earthquake) happened and were spared the pain.''

She's overcome with emotion when she watches the Haitian people on the news. Some are hanging sheets, to keep the sharp sun rays at bay, and sleeping in the streets.

''You wouldn't let your dog live in places like that,'' she says.

''If it rains, God forbid, then there will be mud slides,'' she adds.

She received news that a cousin's home in Bourdon was not damaged, but that he'd been unable to find his son since the earthquake struck. Her girlfriend in Palm Harbor, Fla. hasn't been able to find out how any of her relatives are doing.

Another friend in Miami said that her brother was missing, but he was able to cross over the border to the Dominican Republic and call his sister to let her know he was fine. He was fortunate to cross over at this time, because the Dominican Republic later closed the border. The Haitians can't contact relatives by cell phone, because there isn't electricity to charge cell phones, and communication lines are down.

In the meantime, she watches the news, her heart breaking as she witnesses destruction all over Port Au Prince. She can't believe the sight of The Palace, equivalent to the U.S. White House, lying in ruins. She lived near it as a child.

The destructive scenario portrayed on television news stations is a far cry from the beautiful countryside that surrounded her as a child. She says she carries wonderful memories of days spent horseback riding in the foothills of the mountains, playing soccer in the park and later attending concerts at this same park. She said the young ladies would gather in the gazebos at the park to listen to the music.

She talks about the Bicentennial, a beautiful boardwalk by the ocean with a casino, restaurants from every country, and a gorgeous fountain set in the middle of the area. As classical music played, she said the fountain would rise in huge jets of water as the music grew louder with a fantastic display of color, and then the water would subside and the colors grow paler as the music grew softer.

Reflecting on her childhood, she says, ''It was the most wonderful time in my life.''

However, she feels fortunate to have left when she did. Life, she said, under President Paul Eugene Magloire, was very peaceful, but quickly changed when Francois Duvalier became president. She left Haiti in September, and Duvalier took office in November.

''Everything went to hell after that,'' she says.

Micheline said that it was a beautiful life before Duvalier came into office and destroyed it, and that his son (Jean-Claude Duvalier) followed in his father's footsteps.

''I don't think any child has enjoyed the childhood that I had, since I left,'' she says with sadness in her eyes.

Eventually, all of her brothers but one would come to the U.S., living in various locations around the country. When Micheline arrived in 1956, she moved in with a brother, now her only living sibling, in Chicago.

She planned to attend cosmetology school, but she couldn't speak English and started working to help improve it.

Laughing, she says, ''My brother was very strict. If I wanted a burger, I had to say burger and if I wanted bread, I had to say bread.''

Between her brother's efforts, immersing herself in English at work and watching television, Micheline said she learned the language in three months. Her first job was at Johnson Publishing Company in Chicago. After she began to earn a paycheck, she decided to continue working, rather than attend school.

She worked at several places before marrying her husband, Jose Sterrett, in 1960. The couple met at a party, through friends. He was from Panama. Her husband was in the military, so the couple was stationed in Fort Hood, Texas when their daughter, Maria Elena, was born in 1962.

Micheline moved back to Chicago after the birth of her daughter. A friend encouraged her to apply at Holy Cross Hospital in Chicago.

She spent four months as a certified nursing aide and then transferred to the radiology department. She ran the dark room while learning to become a cardiology technician. Eventually, she'd become the manager of the cardiology department and retired from Holy Cross after 43 years of service.

She divorced in 1972, and has lived at her home in Sauk Village for 23 years.

This is her second stay at Beecher Manor. She's hoping to be there a few months and return home after she recovers from the surgery on her leg. Micheline keeps busy, spending many hours crocheting as she watches the news from her homeland.

When she came to the nursing home, she made over 200 wreath pins with beads for every resident and staff member at the home. She's also made several afghans and donated them to the nursing home to help raise money for the facility, and she's busy making more for the same purpose.

When a woman that led the rosary at the nursing home became ill, Micheline volunteered to lead it. On other days she can be found ''calling bingo.''

''I like to stay busy and do things for others,'' she says.

Returning to the subject of the earthquakes, she said that she worries about the money being sent to help survivors of the earthquake falling into the wrong hands. She said that the Haitian government has a history of taking money and placing it in Swiss banks, using Duvalier as an example of such practice.

''Americans are very generous, but they need to keep a tight hand on the money and make sure that it goes to help the people,'' she says.

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