A shot in the dark. Hope shines through.

There were many heartbreaking experiences while in Haiti. There is much poverty. But there is much hope as well. Just like anywhere I've lived in the world, the human spirit has a way of rising through obstacles. All we know is circumstance. Some are born with incredible monetary wealth. Some, like the lost tribe in the Amazon that was reportedly discovered last May know their environment and not much of the modern world. But were they really lost? I think they know where they're at. That leads me to the point of this post. We know our experience.

One great moment for me was when we were heading to Jakmel. The incredible photographer Marc Baptiste decided to stay in the back of one of the trucks for a while to shoot photographs on the way up.


Marc Baptiste


photograph courtesy of Marc Baptiste


Jimmy Jean Louis

Jimmy decided to do the same and I did as well. Again, one of the better experiences of my life. Marc had a bottle of 22 and we rode through Port-au-Prince and up to Jakmel shooting photo's, video and having a great time.

Marc is from Port-au-Prince and at one point we passed the area where he is from there. He pointed it out and told us this great story about how he got a scar on his face playing around in the streets of Port-au-Prince. He told me he had no idea he would even go to America, less become a famous photographer.

By that time I had already gone with Jimmy to where he was born and heard many stories about him growing up, met his Aunt who was great and some of his old friends. Jimmy had no electricity while growing up as a young boy. He told me he didn't even have a concept of what acting was while growing up in Haiti.

The world to them at that time was Haiti. When I was in Cite Soliel in the middle of one of the roughest parts, I was shooting video and heard a little kid maybe about 7 or 8 rapping. Rapping. I walked or should I say creeped over and started filming him like I've done on so many big music artists. And the boy started performing like so many artists. I jacked up the volume with a beat box and a crowd started to form. Bryn Mooser came over and started beat boxing too and next thing I knew there was a huge crowd almost concert like of kids and women and men and the kid was performing like he was at Madison Square Garden. He had on if I can remember correctly (this will be in the documentary, but we haven't made it to this tape yet so don't quote me)a Michael Jordon basketball jersey. Now we were in the middle of heaps and piles of garbage, pigs and goats and fires and piles of people on piles and there was this kid giving his heart. Giving his all. And all that disappeared. The piles became stands, the people became fans. He was at that time as good as any I've seen or at least had as much soul. He was the Michael Jordon, the Jay Z, the Rakim or TuPac of his city at that moment. He may have some of the troubles we hear so much about in developing countries, but at that moment he was brilliant and shining, a star. In the middle of the middle of Haiti. He most certainly knew a lot more than his immediate surroundings. He knew the world of rap music enough to do it as well as most. But he still hasn't been touched. Or that's at least what the statistics say. 70 percent illiteracy rate. Maybe he wasn't one in that number, but there are so many.

That could have been anyone really. In the Amazon, or on Heroes, or into wealth, or in the middle of the middle of Haiti. You could be reaching out, reaching so hard into a void, a black hole screaming for help. That kid may become a great rapper, or actor or photographer or wealthy beyond imagination. The odds may say no, but the odds have been wrong so many times. Scales balance, the cycle completes itself, guards change in ways never conceived. And anything can happen. Anything. Nothing is lost if never ventured to gain. And shots, even in the dark are worth it if to save just one. Most need that shot at least once in their lives.