Louis Alexander

Care Memories - Part 2

Louis Alexander

CARE USA 1985-2008

Dear CARE friends,

CARE was a part of my life for 23 years (1985-2008) but it never stopped.So much good happened over so many yearsand in such diverseplaces, how could it be otherwise? Apart from a short time in HQ New York where I made friends with Tom Zopf, my first boss, and John Michael Kramer, and so many others, my first overseas post was Ecuador and then five more followed.
At first I remember being in awe of all these people on 1st and 38thstreetin New Yorkwho had lived and worked in so many places. I wanted so much to be like them. I was fresh out of Graduate school, and myboss at ColumbiaUniversity, more specifically the Horace Mann Lincoln Institute at Teacher's College where I worked as a ResearchAssistant wasBeryl Levinger. So now you can guess how I got started at CARE. She was an amazing woman, tireless, the ultimate multitasker and very creative when it came to program design. Anyway, once at CARE I wassurrounded by people who seemed larger than life. I had not done Peace Corps so Isometimes felt inadequate, but I loved being surrounded by people who were making the world a better place. I could do this, I would tell myself.

While in HQ and working among other things with thefirst Partnership Grant (for those who remember), I had the chance to visit India. There were six of us on this trip, Tom Zopf and me andfour technical experts from the Bangkok office; Bill and Wendy Buffum, Jane Rosser and Chris Rossell. We all stayed at the Siddharth Continental hotel, the same hotel that CARE uses today (the name has changed) for its visitors, but one dark nightbecame a burning inferno where 38 people lost their lives in the mostharrowing experience of my life.

The fire started at 2 am and I woke up in asmoke filled room. No alarms, no people running, all was calm as the building became engulfed in flames and smoke. I was on the 5th floor and could not see the end of the halls, smoke was everywhere and so I entered the stairwell and went down one floor. Ibanged on a door and a Frenchman stood there not knowing what was going on. I closed the door behind me and smashed the window withthe coffee table so we could get some air. We then climbed over the broken glass and walked along the veranda from where we looked outinto the garden. Twopeople were telling us to move to the other side of the hotel where the fire escape would be found. At the end of the veranda we entered a suitewhere two people were sleeping. They jumped in fear as they saw us come yelling that we had to get out. I entered the bathroom, took atowel and opened the tap andburned my hands with the hot water. The fire had started in the basement and all the pipes were burning hot. I wet the towel and carefully wrapped it around my face ensuring it covered my mouth and nose; the Frenchmandid the same and then the lights went out. Still no alarm and nowwe could not see anywhere. We felt our way to the door and opened it into thedarkest hole you can imagine filled withintoxicating smoke everywhere. We started to crawl down the hallway and at onepoint I bumped into a woman who was screaming.I grabbed her by the waist andsaid we have to goNOW!We continuedcrawlingdown one hall and then to the right down the long main hall and then left toward the fire escape. We seemed tomove instinctively,thoughtsracing so quickly you can hardly imagine what was going throughour minds. Once out in the fire escape, we ran down the stairs that led into a main yard and parking area. In a matter of seconds I met up with Bill, Wendy and Tom. Jane was still inside the building and so was Chris. We didn't know what to do so we went to the mainentrance side of the building. There, we saw the flames engulf the bottom floors and as people screamed from the windows, the four of us hugged and startedto weep. Soon the heat was too intense so we returnedto the back side of the hotel. I still had my wet towel and not knowing what else to do, I ran back into the fire escape toward the fifth floor to look for Jane.When I got there, the floor was too dark, hot and scary, I really could not go in very farbut I started yellingher name as loud as I could. As I write these words, I am trembling as I remember it all as if it had happened yesterday. I did this several times, returning to the fire escape landing to get air and then back to screaming inside.After some time, I went down to the courtyard againto meet up with my colleagues. Jane had now joined them. Shehad escaped through a windowandher hand was cut.I can't tell you how good it felt to know that one more of uswas safe, but Chris was still inside and this was agonizing.

Jane remembered his room number on the 9th floor and without a thought I entered the fire escape againand ran up to the ninth floor. The heat was not as intense on this floorbut as this was the top floor, the smoke filled every air pocket available. Making sure my towel was wrapped well around my mouth and nose, I entered the floor and in the semi darkness (the emergency lights at the fire escape had come on) I began to feel the numbers on thedoors, inching my eyes right up to raised numbersto make them out.Ifinally found Chris' room which was at the far end of the hallway,almost at the opposite end of the building from thefire escape. By then I was not feeling so well so I entered one of the corner suites and broke the window with the heavy trash can. After some relief, I went back into the hallway towardsChris' room.I banged as hard as I could but there was no answer, so I decided to kick itdown. It tookthree kicks near the door handle andfinally gave way. Ientered his dark room crawling, feeling my way in the total darkness and yelling his name.I felt the inside of the bathtub, under the sink - I could not find Chris. Feeling sick again I went back to the corner suite for some air. When I came back, some firefighters had arrived, some had masks and some didn't. I grabbed one of them by the lapels and instructed him to enter the room to look for Chris. I was desperateand told them to do thisseveral times, but each time they assured me no one was in the room. They too would go into the suite where I had broken the window to get some fresh air, meanwhile I saw them carry out bodies from each of the rooms, people who had not woken up and the smoke had overtaken them. Of the 38who died that terrible night, only one did so from burns, the rest from smoke inhalation.
When I got back down to the courtyard not knowing what else to do,the CARE director Doug Atwood was standing next to the US Ambassador, my colleagues and what seemed like hundreds of people. It alsoseemed like the whole Indian army had suddenly appeared. The ambulances were moving bodies swiftly butthe fire trucks were useless against this fire,their ladders were not long enough and the water pressure was too low.It was a scene from hell. I felt faint and was given water, but the adrenaline was still running because we had not found Chris. To make along story short, we later found Chris in one of the hospitals, in a coma. He had left his room on the ninth floor and feeling sick entered another room, where with two others, I believea Dutchman andan Indian. Together, theyblocked the doorway with sheets and sat down to pray. That is the last thing Chris remembered. I now know that his body was one of the ones being carried out while I was on the ninth floor, but in the darkness it was impossible to make anyone out.

We took turnsspending time with Chris in the hospital, he was in good hands under Dr. Chawla's care; he was the doctor who worked with our Embassy and seemed to know exactly what to do. Welearned from him that smoke inhalation is very much like drowning. The areoles get covered in soot and they begin to sweat, the soot and the liquid impede breathing, so a coma is induced so the body adjusts to the stress.But Chris was strong and I'll never forget during one of my shiftswhen I saw one of Chris'fingers move. It was a miracle, Chris was coming back!

One of the most amazing endings to this story is very personal. When I got back to New York a few days later, my wife Tainaand my dad pickedme up from the airport. When we got to ourapartment, Taina handed me a small card with the most loving smileon her face.As I opened it and got a glimpse of theshort message, I felt unlike I have ever felt before, a joy for being alive and for being here at this moment. It read: "congratulations darling, you are going to be a daddy!"I had to sit to fully feel the intensity of the moment. Taina had found out she was pregnant while I was in India and had kept it a secret.I can only imagine what was going on in her mind knowingthat I too could have died in the fire without knowingthat she was pregnant.

Chapter 2

Some of you may remember that Taina and I are the proudparentsof triplets. They are 24 years old now. When they were born in 1986I had not been with CARE for very long. During their first two monthsI often thought the sky had fallen on me, but my bosses at CARE were very understanding. One day I was particularly tired and probably looked like I had just gotten out of bed. I had not been in the office for even 20 minutes yet theyassured me the work could wait and that I could go home, to which I quickly responded: "Go home? Oh no, please let me stay".

When the triplets (Ryan, Kenneth and Katja) were six months old, we boarded a plane on our way to Quito, Ecuador. I really don't know how we did it, although having a super woman as a wife helps. Taina has the Finnish SISU running through her veins. I remember wearing a bright green shirt while I carried two of the three off the plane tobe greeted on the tar mat by then first-timecountry director Frank Sullivan. I can only imaginewhat was going throughhis mind at that moment but it never fails to make me laugh. Oh, and yes he washe was wearing a tie, and so was John Moser, the ACD. Frank was an amazing guy and as intense as anyone can be, and it all started right there and then with me as well. Still on airport grounds, Frank reminded me we had a meeting at USAID that same afternoon; "and don't forget to dress properly" he said. I don't think I ever wore that green shirt again in his presence. I learned a lot from Frank; rigor was his middle name.

My other good friend in Ecuadorbecame Ron Burkard, the relaxed California man who in his youthful manner and Andean Spanish helped everyone relaxat work. I'll never forget him showing off his collection of Bolivian coins (I was born in Bolivia) which he would tell me he obtained from the strangest characters. As he told stories for each of his coins, I always wondered how he found these people. Before Ron arrived in Quito, Iwas looking for a small apartmentfor him and raninto an older German gentleman at one of the local apart-hoteltype residences. He used a caneand would pick his words carefully as if not to over exert himself.But I'llnever forget his face and body language when I told him I worked for CARE. Hesuddenly beamed his eyes into mine and began telling me stories of the "CARE-packet" as the Germans referred to it that he and his family had received.So it was true!The stories I heard about people getting these packages in so many countries, even Finland where Taina is from. Andhere I was privileged enough to hear how grateful this man was;I had donenothing to deserve this admiration, but at that moment, to him I represented not an organization, but an intention,a force, a human valuethat had been part of his life for a brief moment as heand has family tried to get back on theirfeet in war torn Germany.That force and that value stayed with me during all my time with CARE, and it’s still there.
Ioften thought thatI didn'treally work for CARE, but that CARE allowed me to dosomethingI had alwayswanted to do with my life.And as we moved from Ecuador to Nicaragua, then to Guatemala, and on to Uganda, and then Egypt, and finally Tajikistan,my life became richer, and that of my family as well. Twoboys in Peace Corpsand adaughter as a multilingualoperationsmanager in the health sector must mean that something rubbed off. Andmy darling wife Taina who without her I could not have done any ofit, is also involved in our line of work currently with InterAction promotinghigher standards and increased membership.

From Guatemala, my third CARE country I traveled back to Quito 10 years later for a regional conference. I took two of my staff with me, and asked Leo McGillivray the country director if I could borrow a vehicle for one day as I would be coming a day early to visit some rural houses we rebuilt in the Cayambe area after the March 5, 1987 earthquake (Frank will never forget those houses or the bees in the area). So the three of us drove to a village north of Quito, but when we got there no one seemed to be around. The houses all looked great and I was so excited to see that the 64 square meter tapial, adobe and cinder block houses had all withstood the test of time. Suddenly, a young man approached the vehicle, and with the window down I asked him if Mr. Morocho was around. Mr. Morocho was the president of the community council 10 years earlier and was the key figure in getting all this work done. The young man looked into my eyes and suddenly with a surprised face yelled, Senor Luis Alexander! My staff from Guatemala looked at me with the biggest smile as I realized that my eyes had turned glassy and my mouth was still open. This was Mr. Morocho's son who was nine years old when we built his house and those inhis community. At that time this young kid was often in the way of the construction site, but today he made me tear and reminded me once again why we are here. Yup, CARE is still in me.

Louis Alexander

December 28, 2010