CTV News Montreal 5 p.m. Anchor Maya Johnson travelled to Jamaica to see the devastation and document the relief and rebuilding efforts. This is the first part of a three-part series. For the past three months, Black River, Jamaica, resident Liston Bowen has been hard at work rebuilding what he can after Hurricane Melissa barreled through the parish of St. Elizabeth, tearing apart his home, his business, and his entire community. “If yuh guh start from scratch ya now, it rough,” said Bowen, standing inside his house and conversing in Jamaican patois. While starting over isn’t easy, Bowen said the physical labour helps him deal with the frustration of having lost so much. Taking his hammer and banging nails into wood to build furniture — even on the days he doesn’t feel like it — is an outlet for the constant stress. “Everyting a run pon yu mind,” he said, describing the racing thoughts of how to make a living and provide for his family after losing his small shop and the boat he used for fishing. “Dem deh someting deh will drive you crazy.” Bowen said he will never forget the haunting sounds he heard when the Category 5 hurricane made landfall. “It come in like di breeze a talk. ‘Whoosh! Whoosh!’” he recalled, explaining that the wind seemed alive and forceful, pushing him and his girlfriend from the front of their home to the back. Windows burst, and water poured in, flooding every room. Bowen said Hurricane Melissa left a trail of destruction, obliterating his kitchen and forcing him to improvise. With nowhere else to cook, he swallowed his pride and moved a small stove into the bathroom. At the time, it was his only option. Despite the obstacles, Bowen counts himself among the more fortunate ones because his home is still standing. While his roof was badly damaged, he points out that he still has one. Just next door, at the Black River New Testament Church of God, the destruction is far worse. The roof of the building was ripped right off; stepping into what’s left of the structure, you can look straight up to the sky. All the same, the congregation still gathers. They now worship under a large white tent further down Central Road. At a recent service, parishioners found comfort in the words of a visiting American preacher, who gave a thunderous sermon. “The enemy thought the storm would scatter you,” he told the crowd. “Instead, it gathered the real ones.” Those words were met with a chorus of “Amens” and “Hallelujahs”. In a country where Christianity is deeply embedded in society and culture, faith is understood to be an essential part of everyday life. For many Jamaicans, instead of destroying their faith, the hurricane only strengthened it. “The truth is something like Melissa happened, and it actually opened my eyes, for me to understand that all is vanity,” said Black River resident Terrell Powell. “Within a split second, you can lose everything you gained on this Earth, but once you have Jesus, once you have the Lord, that’s more fulfilling than anything else because you have a hope of a better day, of a better future at some point in time in your life.” A few kilometres southeast of the church, in the coastal community of Parottee, the scope of the devastation is staggering. The landscape remains littered with the debris from homes and businesses reduced to rubble. There are also structures left partially standing, mere skeletons of what they once were. “It’s like a bomb dropped here,” said Parottee resident Denever Forbes, known locally by his nickname, Cheng. Forbes survived a storm surge that sent seawater rushing into his home, trapping him inside. With water rising to his chest and unable to open his front door, Forbes said he thought he was going to drown in his own house until a window gave way, allowing him to escape. “I’m glad I survived,” said Forbes. “Life is the greatest thing. Once you have life, you can restart.” After all, survival stories are part of Jamaica’s DNA – from centuries-old rebellions in the Blue Mountains to the musical trailblazers who made it out of the hardscrabble streets of Trench Town and achieved international fame. Countless more survival stories are now being written, amidst the quiet resilience that has taken root after Hurricane Melissa. Back in Black River, Bowen still cracks jokes, holding on to his sense of humour and refusing to give in to fear and worry despite everything he’s lived through. “Mi haffi laugh,” Bowen said. “Mi can’t fret.”
