Last night during NBC’s continuing coverage of events in Haiti, there was captured on the record an all-too-brief moment that needs to be shown over and over and over again; one of those heart-wrenching incidents that if we are extremely lucky we may see at first-hand but once in a lifetime.
A numbed Haitian man is sitting outside the ruins of his home. Apparently his wife’s voice was heard a few hours before but all is now silent. He is exhausted from digging with his bare hands and his face is a study in awful nothingness. He does not want to think. He wishes to be, not there, but in some other existence, one where his wife still is.
A Turkish team, experienced, we are told, in earthquake rescue and one that did sterling work in Japan, has just arrived on the scene. One of their number, an ordinary-looking bloke in rescue gear, touches the Haitian on the shoulder.
“We are here, my brother,” he says,quietly and in English.
His humanity burned so brightly that I closed my eyes and sobbed like a child.