"This entire project has been embraced by the community," [Chris Purdy] said. "Although I am not from Haiti, I am a descendent of the Caribbean. And I am doing all I can to help. We are doing a good work for a good cause." Other artists who donated their time to paint the mural include Cairns "Nice" Athouris, Drew Carry, Veronica Estrada, Gino (a tattoo artist), Kyle Holbrook, Bayunga Kialeuka, [Kevin Morris] "Smurf" Morris, Addonnis Parker, Jones Pierre, Serge Toussaint and Darrin Watson. [Marie Louissaint] said Pierre, a member of the Optimist club, suggested that a statue be created to mark the anniversary, but the mural got the nod because it was "more cost and time effective."
The French called the Island St. Domingue, and began importing thousands of African slaves to clear much of the land and build plantations. By the late 1700s, there were over half a million African slaves in St. Domingue, and dose to 40,000 whites, as well as almost as many "mulattos." (The word "mulatto" derives from the Spanish term meaning a young mule.) They were the "free people of color," the result of white men taking many slave women. [Adam Hochchild] goes on to tell us how very rich France became through its plantocracy on St. Domingue alone: "The colony's eight thousand plantations accounted for more than one third of France's foreign trade, and its own foreign trade equaled that of the newly born United States." White planters and merchants on the island lived a life of luxury unrivaled in "the New World." Hochchild tells us that on that fateful August night "a large group of slaves representing many plantations met under the night sky in a remote spot called Alligator Woods..." and these are the words reportedly shouted to the throng by a revolt leader: '"Throw away the image of the god of the whites who thirsts for our tears, and listen to the voice of liberty which speaks in the hearts of all of us."
First, the two armies all but destroyed the French plantocracy on the island then they defeated a Spanish force and huge English and French armies. In Adam Hochchild's book Bury the Chains, we learn that then-U. S. President George Washington and then-Secretary of State Thomas Jefferson, both slave owners, sent "a thousand muskets, other military supplies, and eventually some $400,000" of U. S. aid to quell the revolt now known as "the Haitian Revolution." Randall Robinson reveals more in his book, An Unbroken Agony: "Some . . . had been brought to Haiti [St. Domingue] from other Caribbean slave colonies men like the storied Boukman from Jamaica and the legendary Makandal from Trinidad, and the great general, Henri Christophe, who was born in Grenada." Blacks who escaped plantations in the United States also joined L'Ouverture's armies. Robinson reports that L'Ouverture had been the intellectual, "the African humanist, the military strategist, the administrator and, not insignificantly, the conciliator." Robinson also writes that [Jean-Jacques Dessalines] "had been, first and last, the hard-nosed soldier who believed that an enemy as manifestly unsalvageable as the French had to be, wherever possible, obliterated."
"She's a storyteller and what she has done over the years is to bring Haiti's story back home," [Audra DS Burch] said in an interview. "She's an intrepid reporter, she's smart, she's dogged. She has an energy about her that really comes through in her writing. And she's humble." "I don't think either one of us expected the amount of death that we saw," [Patrick Farrell] said. "The flooded river had dragged these kids out of their homes. At one point, we saw 12 bodies. [[Jacqueline Charles]] was so cool under pressure, especially since these are her people. You could see the emotion was there but it wasn't going to stop her from doing her job." A TEAR FOR HAITI: A cousin's death in Haiti made Miami Herald reporter Jacqueline Charles understand even more the pain of a nation. Here she is being interviewed for a Miami Herald video documentary, Nou Bouke ("We are Tired"), shot by Jose A. Iglesias of El Nuevo Herald. Photo used with permission of The Miami Herald.
Poverty and suffering are nothing new to the brave Haitian people. They have survived the hellish reign of the murderous dictator Francois "Papa Doc" Duvalier and, later, his son, Jean-Claude "Baby Doc" Dulavier. They have lived through the nightmare of one military coup after another, barely existing at lower than subsistence levels. They have had to pay ransom money to France because they dared to fight for their freedom.
"A broad sector of Haitian grassroots organizations, women's groups, human rights activists and educators have made it clear that now is the time to end president [Aristide]'s forced exile in South Africa," said the letter, paid for by Haiti Action Committee. The letter accuses the Haitian government, the United States, France, Canada and the United Nations forces in Haiti of blocking Aristide's return. It said the Haitian government had not responded to Aristide's request for a passport and that U.S and U.N. officials had issued public statements opposing Aristide's return. The other: "We do not doubt President Aristide's desire to help the people of Haiti. But today Haiti needs to focus on its future, not its past."
After [Jean-Jacques Dessalines]' death, [Henri Christophe] assumed leadership of Haiti, but the mulatto minority South set up its own republic under Pétion. Christophe committed suicide in 1820 amid an uprising over his forced labor policies. Pétion's successor, JeanPierre Boyer, reformed the two republics into one Haiti. Boyer ruled until his government collapsed in 1843 due to political rivalry. Until 1915, only two of the 21 governments since 1843 were not dismantled by coups d'états or political in-fighting. Except for agreement on the abolition of slavery, the state and nation were headed in opposite or different directions before the L'Ouverture adherents took over in 1804. The literature on Haiti, from Trinidadian C. L. R. James' classic book The Black Jacobins, to TransAfrica founder Randall Robinson's An Unbroken Agony, all tell the awful consequences of the "color curtain" in claustrophobic Haiti.
