In the eye of the storm

On Nov. 8, 2013 at 5:30 a.m. we were awakened by my aunt calling from Calamba, sister of my Mom, inquiring about our situation. We told her that so far so good. She even asked us if we will not evacuate. I was in Tacloban with my 77-year-old Mom and our 2 young helpers, since my Dad passed away on March 7, 2013.

The evening of Nov. 7, the city was placed on Storm Signal 3 already, with slight rain but no wind yet during the night. The night was so calm and quiet. We planned not to move out any more because we were used to typhoons with heavy rains and strong winds.

A minute after our conversation, rain and strong winds started. I went to my 2nd floor bedroom to get some important belongings… but suddenly the howling wind toppled the aircondition unit and ripped off the roof so I hurried down and, to my surprise, my Toyota’s alarm went off. A few seconds after, water rushed from beneath our main door so I called my Mom and two helpers to rush to the second floor. We barely reached the second floor when our furniture floated immediately to the second floor level. The roof of our living room was already gone.

Although I was so afraid I was able to text my brother, “water is on the 2nd floor, roofing gone, please pray for us, I’m scared.” The Lord prompted me to lead my housemates to our library, which was a little higher. To our surprise we saw a big tower leaning towards our window and my househelp cried out, “Dra, it’s a RESCUE SHIP, A DPWH SHIP (A dredger owned by the Department of Public Works and Highways).

We thought that was a rescue ship because we heard people shouting, “Dra, hurry up, the boat will hit your house next (in Tagalog).” Our helper made a way out through the roof and I assisted the two househelps out then my Mom. Mom got so scared because the winds were howling and she could not move her legs at the rooftop until a skinny man helped her go down to the debris in between then was lifted to the boat by two men. I believe they were angels God sent… I haven’t seen them until now to thank them.

Being the last to come out again I cried out, “Lord please help me….” I went up the roof through my bookshelves. There were two men who assisted me climb up the boat. When I entered the boat, Mom was already wet and chilling, I found out there was NO CREW. The people in the boat were all survivors, maybe 25-30 of us, and mostly wounded. I helped them with their wounds.

I had goose flesh and felt we were so special…God sent us a big ship to rescue us and shield our house. All of us in the ship called it our Noah’s Ark. We stayed in the ship for 4 to 5 hours. It was an indescribable moment to see all the houses flattened and destroyed, even the bodies of our neighbors who did not make it and died. The destruction was so horrible that everything was damaged in 5 hours.

After the typhoon passed we returned to our house. Amazingly God provided a ladder among the debris for us to cross over to the destroyed room above our garage. Our neighbors helped us across. We shared dried T-shirts and food with them. The water was gone but left a knee-high mud inside our house.

God has delivered us out of danger by sending a boat so we can be brought to a place of safety.

 We stayed in our house for five days, separated from other people because of the huge pile of debris. God taught us to call on Him moment by moment, keeping our hearts in peace despite the magnitude of losses.

God indeed was a God of surprises. The following day around 6 p.m. my brother Greg, a pastor was able to take the C130 plane through the help of his brother in law, Captain Tuazon arrived. It was a sweet memorable reunion when we saw him.

On the fourth day our neighbors helped us clear debris so we can have a safe passage out of our house to the main highway. Another person brought us news of what is happening in the city. Rain poured out during the night, washing away the mud in our second floor.

 On the fifth day my brother was able to contact his wife through a satellite phone, the first time every one of our love ones learned we were safe and alive after five days of silence. We went to the airport but I was crying all the way seeing the devastation and all the corpses lying along the road. After a long wait for an opportunity to fly out, we decided to return home. A doctor friend gave us a ride home. Truly, if the signal of the telephone is off, God’s signal is always available. Another doctor friend brought us back to the airport the next day. My sister in law was able to get us a ticket to fly out the next day to Cebu then to Manila.

The exodus was an indescribable experience… many were wounded, tired, children crying, mothers worried there was nothing to feed their babies and children. Many sick patients in wheelchairs were waiting to be transported to Manila or Cebu. Some felt nothing there was nothing more left out of Tacloban.

 On the sixth day we were at the airport by 7 a.m. after saying our goodbyes to neighbors and friends. We encouraged each one to have strong faith in God. We were leaving Tacloban, the city we love and had given our livelihood for many years… for now. We were united with family eventually in Manila. What a great reunion, we were all alive. Praise the Lord! — Dr. HELEN GRACE ROASA, Ob-Gyne chair, Bethany Hospital, Tacloban City; Regional Director, Philippine Obstetrics and Gynecological Society R-8