Father Rick Frechette has devoted his life to helping the poor in Haiti. He’s been there for 37 years, witnessed suffering most of us can barely comprehend and says things have never been as bad during his time in the island nation as they are now.
Haiti doesn’t get a lot of attention in the news. No matter how bad things are there, other stories – the Epstein files, Venezuelan boat bombings, the end of penny, etc. – make headlines while Haiti is pretty much ignored.
I’m writing this because what’s happening in Haiti now is atrocious, because Father Rick is in the forefront of efforts to relieve the suffering, and because Boise’s St. Alphonsus Regional Medical Center’s Project Haiti is one of his major supporters. (More on that presently.)
Father Rick is a priest of the Passionist religious order, a core mission of which is to aid the suffering, especially the poor and neglected. I’ve written about him several times through the years because few people have impressed me as much.
This is a man who grew up in Connecticut and could have had a comfortable life as a parish priest there, but volunteered to go to Haiti, the poorest country in our hemisphere. Deciding he couldn’t do enough for the poor as a priest only, he went back to school and became a medical doctor, caring for Haitians’ physical as well as their spiritual needs.
Last week he was in Boise for some needed rest and recreation, courtesy of local Project Haiti volunteers. An earlier trip to Idaho was postponed in part because he was working to free two girls kidnapped by one of the criminal gangs that have overrun the island. He vowed not to leave until he’d secured their release, an effort in which he succeeded.
The criminal gangs have all but absolute control.
“Three-thousand bandits,” he says, “are holding 13 million people terrorized.”
He estimates that he and those working with him have rescued some 100 kidnapping victims in the last five years. Armed criminal gangs routinely kidnap victims and demand money for their return.
Crimes against women have become commonplace. The United Nations and human rights organizations report that “violence, which includes rape, gang rape, sexual slavery and murder, overwhelmingly targets woman and girls.”
Father Rick himself has had his life threatened, been held at gunpoint.
Bad as things are, he is adamant that Haiti isn’t a lost cause.
“I think most people feel helpless to do anything about it, but we can try,” he said. “The focus shouldn’t be on Haiti as a lost cause. The focus should be on the innocent millions who are in excruciating suffering and who deserve to be led to some kind of balance which is civilized, discordant but civilized. It’s a time to focus on saving civilization and trying to restore civility and normalcy, to stand with the people and give them direct, concrete relief.”
Project Haiti has been helping Father Rick do that for more than 30 years, sending medical supplies and teams to Haiti, treating victims of gang violence, helping build clinics, distributing food, medicine and water, helping provide shelter and relocating people to safer parts of the island.
Is it possible to restore civility and normalcy?
“Yes, but it takes will, and it takes being able to talk to the opposition in a clear way which adds to the correctness of choices instead of just leading to defamations like, ‘you’re crazy, you should be killed or deported.’”
With so much of his time spent negotiating with gang leaders and treating victims of violence, primarily gunshot wounds, I asked him how much time he has to perform the normal duties of a priest. Is he, for example, the pastor of a church?
“No. I celebrate the sacraments and anoint the sick and dying, but not in a parish. … Seventy parishes have closed because of the bandits.”
Is he able to say Mass, one of a priest’s primary duties?
“There was a home for the destitute and dying that was destroyed. There were four sisters (nuns) there plus their staff who took care of them. When their place was destroyed, we took all of them to our hospital so the sisters live there and function there with the original purpose of their mission. I say Mass for the sisters at a small house where they live.”
I asked him if he does that in other people’s houses.
“No. Almost nobody in Haiti has a home now. Four-thousand people have been killed by bandits since March.”
He is among those who don’t have a home. He lives in a warehouse.
“I lived for a long time at St. Damien Hospital. But when Covid came, I started taking care of Covid victims and didn’t want to be tracking it anywhere so I moved into the warehouse.”
He was 35 when he came to Haiti. Now he’s 72.
Is retirement part of his plan?
“If I saw what I do as a job, I’d put a retirement age, but I see it as a calling. It’s dangerous where I am, and people say ‘don’t you think you’ve done enough. Why don’t you just come back (to the U.S.)?’ But we’re a team of people in Haiti and a community. We’re all in this together. We’re a ‘we.’ It would be strange to take myself out of that.
“… No matter how dire things get, we lose ground but we slowly regain the improvements. We can still get things done and even recover lost ground. That counts for something.
“I think that standing for human life and human dignity where it is most degraded is a huge service to the human family. In no way, shape or form should concern for the Haitian people or donations to help them be considered futile. Investing in humanity can never be futile.”
Note: Every dollar donated to Project Haiti goes to supporting Father Rick’s efforts in behalf of the poor. Online donations: https://donate.saintalphonsus.org/ProjectHaiti-Donate. Checks may be mailed to Saint Alphonsus Project Haiti, Attn. Jill Aldape, 1055 N. Curtis Road, Boise, ID 83706.
Tim Woodward’s column appears every other Sunday and is posted on woodwardblog.com the following Mondays. Contact him at woodwardcolumn@gmail.com
Tim Woodward 