The Wall Street Journal has extensive coverage of the Episcopal Church in Haiti and the role it is playing under conditions that are beyond real comprehension:
Outside a red and gray Coleman tent, a boy sat mute in a wheelchair holding a dented metal bowl of yellow gruel. His arms were laced with pus-filled wounds, flies swarmed around his grotesquely swollen ankles, and his right foot was missing its littlest toe—but he was lucky. Not only had he escaped the school for the disabled, where many of his handicapped classmates were crushed to death, but he had found his way to what passes for an oasis in this city of death and ruin: a camp run by the Episcopal church.
The Episcopal camp was started the night of the quake with three tents scrounged up by Ogé Beauvoir, the dean of the Episcopal seminary. He and colleagues pitched the tents on the soccer field of a crushed parish school. A seminarian with medical training spent the night treating the injured. A team of young people dug through the school’s rubble “with their hands, with iron bars,” said Father Beauvoir. That night, they pulled out 12 survivors and four bodies. They got one more person out alive, but he died shortly after.
One week after the quake, the priests had given food, water, or a little medicine to 3,000 people, said the Episcopal bishop of Haiti, Msgr. Jean Zaché Duracin.
There is little chance the refugees will leave anytime soon, the priests said. That’s a problem, because most of the supplies were salvaged from the school’s cafeteria. “The stock is starting to deplete,” said Msgr. Duracin, whose flock is now spread on the soccer field under tents and tarps. “We have only enough for perhaps another day or two.”
Msgr. Duracin was outdoors when the quake hit. Friends and neighbors helped him dig out his wife, who was injured but survived. Then—miraculously, Msgr. Duracin says—his children appeared atop a pile of rubble. A tunnel had been left in the debris, and they had crawled out.
There’s more. Read it here.