As heartbreaking as the Haiti earthquake is, the most compelling to me out of the dozens of human interest stories emerging from the rubble is the story of the four missing Lynn University students and their two professors. One of them is 22-year-old Christine Gianacaci of Hopewell, who arrived with her classmates just one day before the earthquake on a mission of mercy — to help the poor and suffering in that Caribbean island nation. Also missing is her 19-year-old roommate in the ill-fated Hotel Montana in Port-au-Prince, Stephanie Crispinelli of New York.
Even as their families hold out hope that they will be found alive — because, of course, what is the only possible alternative — I can feel their despair and desperation in a way that has created a pit in my own stomach. As traumatic as the loss of a child may be, it has to be compounded by not knowing how and when they might have died and how long they might have survived, calling out for their mothers in their last moments of life.
Any parent can identify with the fears and hopes that go along with packing a child off to parts far off and unknown — to do humanitarian work, take a course, and learn something new, or simply fly off in the spirit of adventure and discovery. Many students today take travel and time abroad as a given in the course of their education. Junior year abroad, gap years, Habitat for Humanity, community service programs in AIDS-ridden parts of Africa, development projects in the rain forests of South America, and the Peace Corps — these are only a few of the myriad opportunities available to young people to open their eyes and hearts and change their lives in the course of helping others. How amazing and wonderful and idealistic.
However, while adventure does come with risk, not one of those parents who put their children on those airplanes for Haiti in the name of good work could have imagined that tragedy would strike in this way.
This is especially on my mind this week because one of my own baby birds has flown very far from the nest. Katie is wrapping up an art history program in Florence today and will be flying back to U.S. soil through Dulles International Airport in Washington, D.C. That is a statement that is loaded with worry content for an anxious mother. Shall I share with you my brain process so if you have similar thoughts you will know that you are not alone? Paranoia loves company.
When the earthquake in Haiti first struck: They have earthquakes in Italy, don’t they? I hope Florence is in an earthquake-safe zone.
Before she left for Italy: Isn’t Florence not far from Perugia, where American Amanda Knox is serving jail time after being convicted for murdering her British roommate? Katie, be very careful not to do anything to land you in an Italian jail.
While she was waiting for her airplane at Dulles: I hope security is really tight since it is the nation’s capital and a ripe target for terror. I hope the winter storm that’s scheduled to blow in doesn’t create travel hazards. I hope the plane gets off on time so they don’t lose too much sleep with that overnight flight.
When I found out she was flying Air France: Isn’t that the airline that lost that flight over the Atlantic not so long ago? Did they ever find out what caused that airplane to go down?
When I found out she was making a stopover in Frankfurt, Germany: Just how good is the airport security there? Could an underwear bomber get through? I hope their version of the TSA is a heckuva lot better than ours.
When she told me she and her roommate were taking a train to Rome for the weekend: It was Spain that had those terrorist attacks on the train a few years ago and England that had those metro bombings. But are the Italian railroads safe? And Katie, be careful of all those buses and Vespas darting around — watch where you’re going and look both ways when you cross the streets. (I actually reminded her of this on the phone to which she replied, “Mom, do you think I’m five years old?” In a mother’s mind, no matter how old her child, she will always be her baby, so yes, Katie, you are still five years old and five months old and all those ages to me and always will be even when you are 90 and I’m 120.)
When she traveled to Paris: Where are you staying? Who are you staying with? Which district of the city is that? Is it a safe one? Do you have enough money? Why are you spending so much money? Do you need more money? Do you have enough to travel back?
I can’t help but think back to when Katie was learning to walk, how we held her while she made those first stumbling efforts, then encouraged her as she tried to take those first baby steps on her own, then cheered and cried when she finally took that momentous first step by herself. And then we looked on with alarm as those walking steps turned into running steps, the fear justified by the big tumble that required stitches. See, I knew this walking thing was going to be hazardous.
But you do have to let go, and with a prayer in your heart, you always hope that those giant steps your children take out into the real world will always bring them back to you. For everyone waiting for news of a loved one in Haiti, and especially for the parents of those Lynn University students, my most profound wish is that a miracle will rise from the rubble and their children will come home safe and sound.
