Lucea residents battle isolation as networks remain down

On Sunday, in Lucea, Hanover, residents gathered in small groups outside shops and supermarkets, heads bowed to phones with fading bars, hoping for a message that would tell them family and friends were safe. They, too, wanted to update concerned relatives wanting to hear from them.

The northern parish town, which felt Melissa’s surge and wind after the storm made landfall in Westmoreland on October 28, showed signs of damage – watermarks on building walls and some roofs with missing zinc. Debris also piled up at various sections.

But what several described as most painful was the isolation – a breakdown of the simple, essential connections that let them know who was safe and who needed help.

Housewife Gloria Dixon, who had come into Lucea to “get some Internet”, put it plainly: “Me come yah come get some Internet. Want to mek some calls,” she said.

Dozens of others clustered around anywhere with a generator, trying to charge their phones and send one text, make one call.

“God will solve it,” she added, shrugging at the limits of what she could do from the parish capital.

For Carline Samuels, her mind was beyond any immediate issue with the hurricane, even as she anxiously tried to get a connection.

“Me nuh worry ‘bout di storm,” the 56-year-old said, adding that a court case involving relatives remained on her mind through howling Melissa winds and torrential rainfall that lashed the island a week ago.

A supermarket supervisor, who did not want to be named, said it was the least he could do to help persons he said were regular customers.

“We all human, you know. And people travelled from far just to get a little electricity,” he said, as he moved to assist a customer.

Without electricity and with mobile networks down in many areas, information flowed the old way – face to face. Men sat on church steps passing a device between them.

A group of women shouted news across narrow Lucea streets. Some shops offered to charge phones off a lone car battery; others sold bottled water and biscuits to those who had made the trip into town.

“Nutten much nuh duh out yah. Go inna a parish and yuh wi see,” said Sylvia, who wanted a copy of a newspaper to read about the latest happenings.

The sea had left its mark on Lucea. Salt-streaked walls and sand in gutters told of a surge that pushed inland, while some business operators swept away debris and tried to repair roofs.

The town’s mood was not one of panic. Rather, it carried the weary dignity of people who had appeared tested by storms before and who now waited for the next sign – the next message.

jovan.johnson@gleanerjm.com