A Train through Time. Elizabeth Farnsworth
of John’s best work so far on this trip, and he vigorously objects.
“I’m taking them instead of you,” Valmé snarls. He’s a thug, a member of the original group that overthrew Aristide.
Of the hour and twelve minutes of exposed tape, about two minutes contained footage of the airport.
From the Civil Aviation Building, a police guard escorts us to the hotel and Louis and André to the army’s Twenty-Second Company headquarters, known as Fort Dimanche.
In the next days, we’re forced to give up passports and press credentials and are forbidden to work. We hire an attorney, and he and Louis’s wife organize a vigorous but quiet campaign to free our colleagues. At first we keep their detention secret, because the lawyer says that publicity will make their plight worse.
A Creole phrase describes how we feel: casque zombie, shell of a zombie.
Along with their families, we’re allowed to take Louis and André food and cigarettes. They’re held in the reception area of Fort Dimanche and are not mistreated. Louis thinks they will be released any minute; André is more realistic. He’s a gentle seventy-two-year-old man who walked three hours from his home every morning to drive for us. He’s dignified and stoic, but clearly afraid. After four days they’re moved to the National Penitentiary, an infamously pestilential place.
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