black river, jamaica
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The air smells of wet earth and dry mud. Smoke from the debris fire mixes with a faint smell of fuel from the few generators that still have gas. Every sound echoes, from the bang of hammers to the scraping of shovels, as Jamaicans dig and rebuild after Hurricane Melissa hit the island.
CNN spoke to the hardest-hit western parishes and the towns of Belmont, Black River and Whitehouse, where the damage was uneven but staggering. Some neighborhoods have been destroyed while others appear untouched.
The Category 5 hurricane tore off roofs and blew out windows, leaving people without shelter from the rain and storm surge sending up to 16 feet of seawater onto the land.
Belongings are being dragged to dry as much as possible in hot and humid conditions. And everywhere survivors try to make sense of it all.
Three-year-old Alessandra points to what used to be her bed. “It’s all a mashup,” she says with a small smile.
Her mother, Alandrea Brown, 26, is walking around the remains of her home. “We are very distressed,” she says. “There are people experiencing homelessness and no food at all, so they really need help.”
Much of that help is yet to come.
As we were preparing to leave, a man pointed to another house. He says the bodies of his neighbors still lie unrecovered inside. Through the broken window, they could see the body of a man covered with a sheet, with one hand resting outside the cover.
There was no way for neighbors to call for help. No phone signal. There is no road access. CNN passed on the information to authorities as soon as its team had it. It’s a haunting reminder of how disconnected the region remains.
CNN captures miles of destroyed communities in Jamaica
Devastating footage of destroyed homes and areas without electricity or running water reveals the devastating impact of Hurricane Melissa in Jamaica. CNN’s David Culver reports from the hardest-hit areas.
Life goes on in Jamaica’s capital, Kingston, and across the east. Volunteers and supplies are pouring westward to help people and repair vital economic lifelines: tourism and agriculture.
Jamaican authorities on Monday raised the country’s death toll to 32. That number will almost certainly increase as emergency teams reach more devastated areas.
But for now, the western part of the island is quiet at night. I have no power. No water. Only the sounds of insects and the distant noise of a generator. The mattress has been dragged and is still damp, but you can sleep on it. The air smells of wet wood and salt.
In the morning, long lines form for fuel, food and clean water. People without running water use rivers or storm drains. Families wash clothes, fill buckets with water, and share stories about what they’ve lost.
Asked about the effects of the strongest storm ever to hit Jamaica, Simone Gardon, 40, said: “I don’t think it’s really felt yet.” Her voice trailed off as she wondered when the situation would become clear. “After two weeks, when everything calms down and hunger starts…”
Neighbors became their own first responders. Move fallen trees, lift tangled wires, and nail tin to broken beams. They rebuild because they have to, knowing that help is on the way, but it can’t come soon enough.
Black River barely houses the area’s main hospital. Rain is leaking from the roof. The hallway is in darkness.
Senior medical officer Dr. Immol told CNN that his home was also destroyed, adding to the heartache. “Looking at this place, my hospital, it’s going to be very difficult to even get through the gate in the morning. But it has to be done.”
He and many of his staff lost their homes and are still showing up. Emergency rooms are still operating without power or water.
In one of the few dry rooms, Shaniel Tomlin holds her 1-year-old son, Jamal, who hit his head after the storm. He is covered in bandages like a veteran. She has a prescription in her hand, but no place to fill it.
“Everything is gone,” she said quietly, her eyes watering as the weight of what was to come began to sink in.
Buildings in this centuries-old coastal town have been destroyed, including the courthouse, library, government offices and elementary school.
From Kingston, trucks carrying food, fuel and aid wind their way west, sometimes sitting in traffic for hours as roads slowly clear.
“We are resilient,” says former Congresswoman Lisa Hanna. “There’s almost an empathetic solidarity across the island and around the world to make things happen here. We’re not going to starve our people.”
Organizations such as World Central Kitchen, Operation Blessing and Samaritan’s Purse are already on the ground, setting up kitchens and delivering water. Relief teams are expected to stay for several months. And even that may not be enough.
The tourism industry, the backbone of Jamaica’s economy, is being watched closely. Officials stress that much of the island, especially the north and east, remains open as peak season begins next month. But in the West, where Melissa was hardest hit, rebuilding will take time.
When the wireless signal returns, the bouncy sound also returns. Music wafted through the salt air as roadside stalls fried fish on exposed concrete slabs, the stalls long washed away. The scent of smoke and the rhythm of song fill the silence left by the storm.
“We are Jamaicans,” one man shouts. “We are the strongest humans in the world.”
The wind has passed and the water has receded, but the scars will remain. In western Jamaica, the battle is just beginning.
