What Is A Miracle?
Once upon a time .... when we think of a miracle, in a medical context such as this story, we often think or imagine in terms of something like a magic wand or divine intervention -- one moment you are very, very sick, nearing death and the next moment, POOF!, you are cured. A miracle is also sometimes thought of as a perceptible interruption of the laws of nature as understood according to the status quo. that is more the case here with Amenah's Story. A little girl would have died, but she didn't. (click here to see her photo)
A miracle can be a fortuitous event, which includes finding Amenah in time, assembling the means and people involved to move a Muslim child from a war zone in Iraq, almost halfway around the world to stay in a Christian southern setting in USA, fixing her, and bringing her back home to Haditha, Iraq, ready to live a healthy life.
This epitomizes a miracle as any statistically unlikely but beneficial event, such as surviving a terminal illness and "beating the odds" while doing so. Just think of all the factors involved: local Iraqi prejuidice against allowing Iraqi women or children to be alone with strangers, US marines, the difficulties of transporting a terminally sick child out of a war zone and such a long distance, the risk if she died in transport or during the operation, the need to raise money for travel because the military could not foot the bill, the need for an interpreter to bridge the language gap, a place to stay in America, people to escort the child and her mother to and from Iraq to commercial flights out of Jordan, and many more bumps and curves in the road.
But the real miracle here in Amenah's Story is the orchestration of people and resources all to save the life of one little girl from a country where thousand had died. Moreover, all of the people involved on both sides of the ocean in making this happen were different, thought differently, and went about their lives based on varied thinking styles and approaches. That's what we are about to explore in greater depth -- the kind of thinking that you can use in your own life. You will find that when you change your thinking, you can revolutionize your career ... and that's a miracle worth desiring and looking into, as you will here.
AMENAH’S STORY
Amenah’s Story begins ....
The Humvee pulled up with a soft whoosh of tires on sandy gravel as near to the house as the driver could get. Marine Major Kevin Jarrard climbed out, tugged at his winter fatigues, and looked around, taking in the places where someone might hide—where they could take cover themselves if it came to that. By 2007, most of the insurgents had been driven out of this area, but there were incidents daily and it was wise to wear caution like an extra coat. This house, on the northern outskirts of Haditha, was no mansion, yet it was no appliance box either—a humble but functioning home for a shepherd with several children. The sky showed the rumpled gray of clouds bunching for a possible December rain, even snow. A breeze that swept across the Euphrates tugged at his short hair. He reached to tug his collar up higher against the chill. Born and raised in Georgia, he had never welcomed winter. But if you want warm sunny days and white picket fences, stay back in the United States.
He nodded to the surgeon, who climbed out of the vehicle with the interpreter. As they moved toward the house, Navy Captain John Nadeau asked a question with his eyes. Kevin’s checking on Alaa Thabit Fatah, the father, hadn’t confirmed that he’d been one of the insurgents, or that he hadn’t been. He shrugged. That didn’t seem to ruffle Nadeau, though only two years ago, the local police set up by the invading U.S. troops had been taken by insurgents to the town’s soccer stadium and had been beheaded, left there to lay with orders that no one touch the bodies. Haditha was more secure now, but peace is fragile, and never so much so as here. Kevin could only hear the wind rasping against the house they approached and no sporadic gunfire in the distance, which would not have surprised him.
While John made his examination, Kevin eased closer to Maha with the interpreter. He reached to his wallet and took out a worn and frayed-at-the-corners photograph of Kelly and their four kids. He held it out to her. His youngest daughter, Rachel, was not far from Amenah’s age. Maha nodded, smiled, and returned the pic- ture. It was something Kevin often did. It told the people there he was just like them, a man with a family, one with a wish for a peace- ful, prosperous life for his children, just like they desired.
John finally put away his things and stood. That was that for now. “Can you help our daughter?” her father asked. As a devout Christian and honorable man, Kevin looked him in his brown, pained eyes and said, “I’ll do all I can.” At that precise moment, he could have no idea of the enormity of all that loomed ahead.
Out in the Humvee, as they closed their doors, Kevin turned to John.
“It looks like cyanotic congenital heart disease,” John said. “I’d say a Tetralogy of Fallot, but that’s something I don’t have the equip- ment to confirm, not here or even in the largest cities of Iraq.”
“Is that common here?”
John nodded. “It sure is. They drink water out of the Euphrates that you wouldn’t even wash in, let alone drink. They use insecti- cides and pesticides everywhere without any thought. God knows what these women are exposed to when they’re pregnant. So birth defects are much more common.”
Kevin asked him, “What might we do about this?”
Nadeau said, “Well, not much in Iraq.”
“Is this girl going to live long?”
“No. She’s going to get a chest infection and that’s death for her.”
Kelly Jarrard, back in Gainesville, Georgia, got an e-mail from her husband telling her about Amenah. Though she was kept busy raising four small children on her own, she called a family friend, Robin Smith, at the BB&T Bank in Gainesville, Georgia, and started an account to raise part of the money for transportation. The effort could only be a quiet grassroots one at first because any word getting back to Iraq might jeopardize Amenah even getting to leave.
On December 14, 2007, Kevin’s aunt, Janet Jarrard, opened her e-mail and rocked back in her chair for a moment when she found a similar but more complex request. Kevin said he was taking up a collection among the Marines, and had the hospital at Vanderbilt lined up, but he needed her help with a whole lot more. All Janet had to do was help raise almost $30,000 for commercial travel costs for both the mother and daughter to leave from and return to Iraq, ensure the family had a place to stay, that an interpreter could be on hand, find a medical team to get the family to and from America, make sure culturally appropriate foods were on hand, find a female escort, part nurse and part chaperone, and, oh, by the way, do all this quickly please, chop, chop.
Anyone else might have torn at their hair and run screaming into the woods. But not Janet. Time might be of the essence, but she never flinched. His e-mail told her he had begun the necessary steps for documentation, paperwork, clearance, and permission from his superiors. Fund-raising to bring a Muslim child and her mother to the Christian south was going to be no easy feat. Recall Pastor Terry Jones from Gainesville, Florida, the controversial person who burned the Koran in March of 2011, causing riots in the Middle East that resulted in numerous deaths, including UN workers and their wives. His actions marked one extreme of the grassroots mood. There was a lot of confusion and some prejudice about Muslims. Kevin’s appeal to those stateside was that a little girl’s life was at stake. In the face of those who might say, “You can’t save them all,” he said, “But we might be able to save one.” Janet’s first thought was, “Now, how in the heck are we going to do it?” He was asking her to be the point person in Nashville. Then, like her counterparts overseas, she shrugged off the impossibilities and started figuring out ways to make it all happen.
“No problem,” Glenn said. “I’m glad it’s back on. I was really hop- ing to help see this through.” He looked toward Gary.
“That’s great,” Gary agreed. “But I’ll let Glenn go first. You know how I am when I get talking.”
“Well, I’ve been going over all we need to pack, how much we can carry,” Glenn said. He was the medic of the team, who’d also been with FEMA at Katrina and had recently gotten back from Haiti. His background included work in Arizona doing a lot of fixed- wing transports of moving patients over quite long distances. “I’m still running down what we can get in Jordan, and what we can bring or take out. Oxygen is going to be an issue.”
“I looked into the cost for chartering a Galaxy 6,” Gary said. “Way out of reach. An air medical agency is a quarter of a million for just one way. Scratch that. We’ll have to figure out how to do this as best we can on a limited budget.”
“We’ve both gone through the briefing material on Muslim- American relations, any cultural issues, the tribe this mother and daughter are from, so we should be okay there too,” Glenn said.
“I appreciate you guys going, because I can’t go, and Kevin Jarrard is still in theater over in Iraq, and Vanderbilt has no means of get- ting them here. The safety of you two is my top concern, which is why I’m glad we were able to get Blackwater involved. It looks like we’re going to have to go with Royal Jordanian Airlines, though. It’s all we can afford considering what’s been gathered so far, and their chief medical officer has to approve the girl for travel or she’s not getting on their planes,” Jonathan said.
The snow was thick and all around them and they had only a 10- or 15-minute window to get the helicopter onto the ground, get Amenah and her mother to the checkpoint at the border, and into the arms of the American team there. A few handshakes and hugs, some prayers, and off they went, disappearing into the snow. At that point, all Kevin could do was pray that all would be well. He had time for that. He was snowed in and couldn’t go back to Haditha himself for two days.
* * *
Gary White sat in the lead vehicle and waited. They all looked out the windows and watched. Glenn Susskind was in the medical vehicle parked behind theirs. The third vehicle, parked behind that, one the Blackwater men referred to as a “bump” vehicle, was along just in case anything happened to one of the other two.
He looked up at the dark clouds and was glad he wasn’t the one in a four-hour helicopter ride. Snow swirled around them and cov- ered the ground and had begun to drift.
“I thought it never snowed here,” he said.
“It doesn’t,” the interpreter said. “Not like this, anyway. I haven’t seen anything like this in years.” She was another part of the puz- zle Blackwater had already helped fix when the original interpreter they’d arranged for didn’t work out. The Blackwater guys had also helped Glenn get all the extra medical supplies he needed too— oxygen, food, water, even IV fluids.
Now they waited, and watched it snow.
They breathed a collective large sigh when they pulled up at the five-star InterContinental Hotel, one of the finest in Amman, where Blackwater had made arrangements. The staff had been carefully preprepared for their arrival. They put them in rooms in the center of a hallway. There were no other guests in that whole hallway. They had cleared the hallway at Blackwater’s request. It was quite secure. Amenah and her mother were in one room, and Glenn and Gary had the adjoining rooms. Once settled, they could do a better assessment on Amenah, and start working on getting the fever down, getting her hydrated, and giving her some cough medicine. They did everything they could to prepare her for travel, while trying to be the least invasive as possible. They had strong concerns because now she had a cold and was even that much sicker.
Glenn made a call to the Vanderbilt hospital and spoke with Dr. Thomas Doyle, a pediatric cardiologist who would be working with Dr. Karla Christian. Glenn told him, “Hey, this is not the pic- ture that we’ve had painted. When we get back, you need to be ready for a really sick kid, not a semihealthy one.”
From their assessment at the hotel, they knew that Amenah was going to require oxygen, especially once the plane gained enough altitude to pressurize. There was no way they could carry enough oxygen for a 14-hour flight. The flight would be stressful for all, but especially for the two-year-old.
When Lisa Van Wye, Gary White, Glenn Susskind, Amenah, her mother, and their Blackwater escort got to the airport, they were told at the ticket counter that Amenah needed to see the airline’s doctor to get her health certified. They were escorted quite a dis- tance, through what looked to Glenn like the bowels of the airport, to where a doctor examined Amenah, said she was okay to fly, and he gave them authorization to take oxygen onto the plane. Then they passed through multiple security stations and found that on the plane, a male flight attendant on the Royal Jordanian Airlines is the lead person on each flight. He also makes a determination of whether or not anybody can get on the flight, and he reports to the pilot, who gets to make a determination again about if anybody can get on the flight.
Source: World Relief—Deanna Dolan (click here)
Figure 7 Amenah getting around quite well after her operation.
The day when Amenah and Maha were to get on a plane with Kevin Jarrard’s wife Kelly to make the flight back to Jordan, Deanna said, “It was very emotional. Everybody was crying, even Steve and Sarah’s children were crying. Maha was crying. Maha grabbed Steve’s neck and wouldn’t let go. Now that’s unusual because her being a Muslim woman, she would normally not inter- act with a man that way. She really loved Pastor Steve.”
Source: Marines—Mark Lamelza Photo by Sergeant Shawn Coolman (click here) bottom photo. Figure 9 Amenah reunited with her father at Baghdad
Kevin was thinking again about how only two years before, the insurgents in Iraq had rounded up the officers of the police force the U.S. troops had supported and brought them to this same sta- dium and had them beheaded, then gave the order that anyone who touched the bodies would be subject to the death penalty. So, when a helicopter landed to a cheering crowd of Iraqis and little Amenah was carried off, clutching a pink bunny and being touched by her siblings, and the stadium was filled once again with joy, Kevin felt it was the perfect juxtaposition between the al Qaeda and America. Al Qaeda comes bringing death, tyranny, and terror, whereas the United States comes bringing life and liberty.
He let Amenah and Maha and Alaa Thabit go on their own back to the vehicle, and he spent a moment just soaking in the scene. Back at the family’s little home just north of town, where Amenah’s story had started for him, some of the Iraqi businessmen in town had put together a huge feast with tents and celebrations and all the rest, and they all spent the rest of that night really soaking in all that had transpired.
Could he have done it alone? No, he admits. “Every one of those decisions that was made was the result of the totality of my experi- ences throughout everything that had happened to me up to that point in my life,” he said. “There were many people without whose efforts at any given point this operation would have fallen apart. So, certainly the situation was much bigger than me. I was privi- leged to play some small part and be glad for that.” As Kevin Jarrard put it to all of them, “Words are inadequate to describe my thankfulness to all of you for your roles in this mission. If you have never previously witnessed a miracle—now you have. Semper Fidelis and God Bless.”
AMENAH’S STORY
Marines evacuate Iraqi toddler
Amenah, 2, from Iraq, is being treated at the Monroe Carell Jr. Children's Hospital at Vanderbilt. photo by Dana Johnson/Vanderbilt.
Amenah, 2, from Iraq, pictured with Dr. Thomas Doyle, Pediatric Cardiologist at the Monroe Carell Jr. Children's Hospital at Vanderbilt. (click here)
Once upon a time .... when we think of a miracle, in a medical context such as this story, we often think or imagine in terms of something like a magic wand or divine intervention -- one moment you are very, very sick, nearing death and the next moment, POOF!, you are cured. A miracle is also sometimes thought of as a perceptible interruption of the laws of nature as understood according to the status quo. that is more the case here with Amenah's Story. A little girl would have died, but she didn't. (click here to see her photo)
A miracle can be a fortuitous event, which includes finding Amenah in time, assembling the means and people involved to move a Muslim child from a war zone in Iraq, almost halfway around the world to stay in a Christian southern setting in USA, fixing her, and bringing her back home to Haditha, Iraq, ready to live a healthy life.
This epitomizes a miracle as any statistically unlikely but beneficial event, such as surviving a terminal illness and "beating the odds" while doing so. Just think of all the factors involved: local Iraqi prejuidice against allowing Iraqi women or children to be alone with strangers, US marines, the difficulties of transporting a terminally sick child out of a war zone and such a long distance, the risk if she died in transport or during the operation, the need to raise money for travel because the military could not foot the bill, the need for an interpreter to bridge the language gap, a place to stay in America, people to escort the child and her mother to and from Iraq to commercial flights out of Jordan, and many more bumps and curves in the road.
But the real miracle here in Amenah's Story is the orchestration of people and resources all to save the life of one little girl from a country where thousand had died. Moreover, all of the people involved on both sides of the ocean in making this happen were different, thought differently, and went about their lives based on varied thinking styles and approaches. That's what we are about to explore in greater depth -- the kind of thinking that you can use in your own life. You will find that when you change your thinking, you can revolutionize your career ... and that's a miracle worth desiring and looking into, as you will here.
AMENAH’S STORY
Amenah’s Story begins ....
The Humvee pulled up with a soft whoosh of tires on sandy gravel as near to the house as the driver could get. Marine Major Kevin Jarrard climbed out, tugged at his winter fatigues, and looked around, taking in the places where someone might hide—where they could take cover themselves if it came to that. By 2007, most of the insurgents had been driven out of this area, but there were incidents daily and it was wise to wear caution like an extra coat. This house, on the northern outskirts of Haditha, was no mansion, yet it was no appliance box either—a humble but functioning home for a shepherd with several children. The sky showed the rumpled gray of clouds bunching for a possible December rain, even snow. A breeze that swept across the Euphrates tugged at his short hair. He reached to tug his collar up higher against the chill. Born and raised in Georgia, he had never welcomed winter. But if you want warm sunny days and white picket fences, stay back in the United States.
He nodded to the surgeon, who climbed out of the vehicle with the interpreter. As they moved toward the house, Navy Captain John Nadeau asked a question with his eyes. Kevin’s checking on Alaa Thabit Fatah, the father, hadn’t confirmed that he’d been one of the insurgents, or that he hadn’t been. He shrugged. That didn’t seem to ruffle Nadeau, though only two years ago, the local police set up by the invading U.S. troops had been taken by insurgents to the town’s soccer stadium and had been beheaded, left there to lay with orders that no one touch the bodies. Haditha was more secure now, but peace is fragile, and never so much so as here. Kevin could only hear the wind rasping against the house they approached and no sporadic gunfire in the distance, which would not have surprised him.
Kevin could see his breath as he knocked at the door. The father opened it and they entered a room that had no fireplace or heat. John Nadeau rubbed his hands together and glanced toward Kevin, who could smell something cooking slowly in the kitchen that Amenah’s mother had left to be in this room. Garlic, rice, maybe a touch of lamb, or sheep—not much, probably, and for a large family. He’d timed their visit away from a meal hour, knowing the Iraqi custom of lavishing whatever food they had on any visitor first.
The mother waited across the room beside the little girl. He’d been surprised during his last visit when the mother had come out into the front room. Usually, the women stayed in a back room when other males visited. Now, Maha, the mother, gave the child a gentle nudge. Maha sat her down on the floor and Amenah looked at the visitors and started toward them with a flicker of mischievous eagerness in her eyes that quickly faded as the two-year-old stumbled, caught herself, struggled for her breath, and then kept coming. As she did, her complexion changed from its normal coloration to a dark blue that heightened in her lips and fingers.
John knelt, had his stethoscope out, warmed it with his hands, and started to examine the child, a customary practice in Iraq, where all examinations are done in front of the extended family. John had the bald pate with vestigial buzzed tonsure of silver hair of someone in his sixties.
That and his confident manner evoked con- fidence among those who didn’t know he was also a professor of medicine at Vanderbilt. Kevin liked to watch John work, whether at the sheik’s home, or as they were now, in the home of a shep- herd. He owed his life to John, as did many of his men. John was- n’t really here to practice medicine on the civilians, but the mission of the Marines had shifted in the past couple of years, and troops were in the active role of trying to ease control over to the Iraqi police and Iraqi Army. So, when Sergeant Velasquez, Lima Company’s squad leader, came across Amenah and her father, who had asked for help and said she would probably die without it, Kevin had made his first visit to the house and had seen enough to bring battlefield surgeon John along this time. The mother waited across the room beside the little girl. He’d been surprised during his last visit when the mother had come out into the front room. Usually, the women stayed in a back room when other males visited. Now, Maha, the mother, gave the child a gentle nudge. Maha sat her down on the floor and Amenah looked at the visitors and started toward them with a flicker of mischievous eagerness in her eyes that quickly faded as the two-year-old stumbled, caught herself, struggled for her breath, and then kept coming. As she did, her complexion changed from its normal coloration to a dark blue that heightened in her lips and fingers.
John knelt, had his stethoscope out, warmed it with his hands, and started to examine the child, a customary practice in Iraq, where all examinations are done in front of the extended family. John had the bald pate with vestigial buzzed tonsure of silver hair of someone in his sixties.
While John made his examination, Kevin eased closer to Maha with the interpreter. He reached to his wallet and took out a worn and frayed-at-the-corners photograph of Kelly and their four kids. He held it out to her. His youngest daughter, Rachel, was not far from Amenah’s age. Maha nodded, smiled, and returned the pic- ture. It was something Kevin often did. It told the people there he was just like them, a man with a family, one with a wish for a peace- ful, prosperous life for his children, just like they desired.
John finally put away his things and stood. That was that for now. “Can you help our daughter?” her father asked. As a devout Christian and honorable man, Kevin looked him in his brown, pained eyes and said, “I’ll do all I can.” At that precise moment, he could have no idea of the enormity of all that loomed ahead.
Out in the Humvee, as they closed their doors, Kevin turned to John.
“It looks like cyanotic congenital heart disease,” John said. “I’d say a Tetralogy of Fallot, but that’s something I don’t have the equip- ment to confirm, not here or even in the largest cities of Iraq.”
“Is that common here?”
John nodded. “It sure is. They drink water out of the Euphrates that you wouldn’t even wash in, let alone drink. They use insecti- cides and pesticides everywhere without any thought. God knows what these women are exposed to when they’re pregnant. So birth defects are much more common.”
Kevin asked him, “What might we do about this?”
Nadeau said, “Well, not much in Iraq.”
“Is this girl going to live long?”
“No. She’s going to get a chest infection and that’s death for her.”
“Is she fixable?”
“Probably. But not here in Iraq.”
“How might we go about getting her fixed?”
“We’d have to send her off to America somehow, get someone there to do it.” John looked out the window at the buildings going by, probably not seeing them, but already flipping through the Rolodex in his mind.
Back at his command post, which was a bombed-out school build- ing in the downtown area, Kevin sat on his little makeshift cot, his head in his hands. He spent some time in prayer. This was some- thing much, much bigger than him. He felt insufficient to the task. If this was something that the Lord purposed to bring about through him, he prayed that the Lord might give him the wisdom and discernment about how to proceed.
* * *
The next morning, John looked up from his mug of coffee, the steam providing some warmth against another chilly day. Kevin Jarrard was walking toward him, his face a tangle of determination and worry. Only thirty-five years old, Kevin was through and through a man of unflinching resolve once he’d decided upon something.
Before Kevin could speak, John said, “I take it you’ve decided to do this impossible thing.” Now didn’t this just seem like a scene out of M*A*S*H where Hawkeye Pierce and Trapper John set off on some wacky, well-intentioned mission.
“Probably. But not here in Iraq.”
“How might we go about getting her fixed?”
“We’d have to send her off to America somehow, get someone there to do it.” John looked out the window at the buildings going by, probably not seeing them, but already flipping through the Rolodex in his mind.
Back at his command post, which was a bombed-out school build- ing in the downtown area, Kevin sat on his little makeshift cot, his head in his hands. He spent some time in prayer. This was some- thing much, much bigger than him. He felt insufficient to the task. If this was something that the Lord purposed to bring about through him, he prayed that the Lord might give him the wisdom and discernment about how to proceed.
* * *
The next morning, John looked up from his mug of coffee, the steam providing some warmth against another chilly day. Kevin Jarrard was walking toward him, his face a tangle of determination and worry. Only thirty-five years old, Kevin was through and through a man of unflinching resolve once he’d decided upon something.
Before Kevin could speak, John said, “I take it you’ve decided to do this impossible thing.” Now didn’t this just seem like a scene out of M*A*S*H where Hawkeye Pierce and Trapper John set off on some wacky, well-intentioned mission.
Kevin laughed, and sat down. “So, how do we go about it? I know I’ll have to clear it with Lieutenant Colonel Bellon. But there are a lot of other t’s to cross and i’s to dot.”
“Well, there sure are,” John chuckled. “I can do what I can with the folks back at Vanderbilt as far as the operation and the hospital goes, but there’s a lot of money involved. I’m going to need to be pretty persuasive.”
“Well, you’ve been with them long enough. They might come through.” Kevin rubbed at his right temple. “Then there’s the cost of getting them to and from the states. You know we can’t use mil- itary aircraft to transport them.”
“Right. And then there are the five tribes. You have to clear this with them. The idea of sending a child off to a foreign place is going to light a few fuses.”
One aspect that led Nadeau to believe Bellon might let them go out on this particular limb was that when Bellon took over as com- mander of the battalion, he allowed and encouraged Nadeau to see that every Marine in the battalion was trained to be comfort- able in dealing with the common causes of death on the battle- field: bleeding from an extremity wound, tension pneumothorax, and an obstructed airway. All this was something that had never been done before, and there’s no doubt it had saved lives. Bellon’s was the kind of leadership that gave opportunity to do such things.
John said, “In America, if you show up in the emergency room and you’re Amenah, it doesn’t matter what it costs; somebody’s going to take care of you. But here, that couldn’t be done. So—Marines being Marines—I guess I can’t tell you that you can’t do some- thing, because you’ll just go and get it done. So I’d better do all I can to help you.”
“Well, there sure are,” John chuckled. “I can do what I can with the folks back at Vanderbilt as far as the operation and the hospital goes, but there’s a lot of money involved. I’m going to need to be pretty persuasive.”
“Well, you’ve been with them long enough. They might come through.” Kevin rubbed at his right temple. “Then there’s the cost of getting them to and from the states. You know we can’t use mil- itary aircraft to transport them.”
“Right. And then there are the five tribes. You have to clear this with them. The idea of sending a child off to a foreign place is going to light a few fuses.”
One aspect that led Nadeau to believe Bellon might let them go out on this particular limb was that when Bellon took over as com- mander of the battalion, he allowed and encouraged Nadeau to see that every Marine in the battalion was trained to be comfort- able in dealing with the common causes of death on the battle- field: bleeding from an extremity wound, tension pneumothorax, and an obstructed airway. All this was something that had never been done before, and there’s no doubt it had saved lives. Bellon’s was the kind of leadership that gave opportunity to do such things.
John said, “In America, if you show up in the emergency room and you’re Amenah, it doesn’t matter what it costs; somebody’s going to take care of you. But here, that couldn’t be done. So—Marines being Marines—I guess I can’t tell you that you can’t do some- thing, because you’ll just go and get it done. So I’d better do all I can to help you.”
Kevin rose and started to walk off. But he stopped and turned his head back. “We’re doing the right thing, aren’t we?” It was a rhetorical question, but John nodded.
“You know, a lot of what we have to deal with over here is about death. Why can’t it be about life just for once?”
John grinned. “No reason at all.”
Kevin walked away. Well, there were a lot of reasons, but possibly they were fixable, just like Amenah.
As soon as he got back to his computer, John fired off an e-mail to Dr. Karla Christian, a pediatric cardiac surgeon at Vanderbilt. He had known and worked with her for years and was confident she would help. She had the expertise to do open heart surgery. She had the facilities too, at the Monroe Carell Jr. Children’s Hospital at Vanderbilt University in Nashville, Tennessee. If she said yes, this was still, by no means, a slam dunk. As Kevin had said, there were lots of “t’s and i’s” to go.
Source: Marines—Mark Lamelza
Figure 2; (click here to see the group photo) Major Kevin Clark, Major Mark Lamelza, Captain Krumenacker, Lieutenant Colonel David Bellon, Captain John Nadeau, Sergeant Major Wayne Rumore
“You know, a lot of what we have to deal with over here is about death. Why can’t it be about life just for once?”
John grinned. “No reason at all.”
Kevin walked away. Well, there were a lot of reasons, but possibly they were fixable, just like Amenah.
As soon as he got back to his computer, John fired off an e-mail to Dr. Karla Christian, a pediatric cardiac surgeon at Vanderbilt. He had known and worked with her for years and was confident she would help. She had the expertise to do open heart surgery. She had the facilities too, at the Monroe Carell Jr. Children’s Hospital at Vanderbilt University in Nashville, Tennessee. If she said yes, this was still, by no means, a slam dunk. As Kevin had said, there were lots of “t’s and i’s” to go.
Source: Marines—Mark Lamelza
Figure 2; (click here to see the group photo) Major Kevin Clark, Major Mark Lamelza, Captain Krumenacker, Lieutenant Colonel David Bellon, Captain John Nadeau, Sergeant Major Wayne Rumore
* * *
Major Mark A. Lamelza, operations officer, sat behind his desk talking with the battalion’s executive officer, Major Kevin Clark, who leaned against one side of the doorjamb. He suddenly straightened. Lieutenant Colonel David G. Bellon, the battalion commander, came barreling into the office.
Mark stood. David waved for him to sit back down as he lowered himself to the corner of the desk.
“You’ll never guess what Kevin Jarrard and Captain Nadeau want to do,” David said. “They want to send a two-year-old Muslim girl halfway around the word to Nashville for an operation she can’t get here.”
“What?” Mark said. “Are you kidding me?”
“Wish I was.” David filled them in on all he knew so far and then asked, “What do you think?”
Mark shook his head. “There are just too many things that could go sideways. We’d have to check it with higher up.”
Higher up meant their regimental commanding officer, Colonel H. Stacy Clardy III. And he would have to clear something like this upward through his chain of command.
“Do you know what he told me the first day he met me?” Mark said. “He said, ‘If you mess up, I will fire you.’”
“He told me the same thing,” David said. They laughed.
“Well, I don’t think we should do this,” Mark said.
“Let me tell you about my chat with Kevin Jarrard,” David said.
“You know how it is. As you’re listening, you’re processing—you know, active listening. You’re picking up on the critical vulnerabil- ities. Where could this thing go wrong? You know, I’m watching the guy talking to me, who I know very well, and I’m looking at him. Is he tired? Has he thought this out? What kind of game is he on right now? Is he on his ‘A’ game, or not? Because sometimes even your best guys have bad days. You start by listening to their words, but you are really taking inventory of them. Sometimes you’re thinking, ‘Okay, this guy needs some coaching and how can I apply my social energy to help him succeed today?’ But it was pretty clear to me, almost immediately, that Kevin had thought this out. He and Nadeau had talked this over before he talked to me, and he was dropping little data points along as he talked. He mentioned he’d talked with Nadeau because he knows I admire and respect Nadeau. So, very quickly, my mental inventory was, ‘Okay, this thing isn’t half-baked. They have already done some pretty solid work here.’”
Major Mark A. Lamelza, operations officer, sat behind his desk talking with the battalion’s executive officer, Major Kevin Clark, who leaned against one side of the doorjamb. He suddenly straightened. Lieutenant Colonel David G. Bellon, the battalion commander, came barreling into the office.
Mark stood. David waved for him to sit back down as he lowered himself to the corner of the desk.
“You’ll never guess what Kevin Jarrard and Captain Nadeau want to do,” David said. “They want to send a two-year-old Muslim girl halfway around the word to Nashville for an operation she can’t get here.”
“What?” Mark said. “Are you kidding me?”
“Wish I was.” David filled them in on all he knew so far and then asked, “What do you think?”
Mark shook his head. “There are just too many things that could go sideways. We’d have to check it with higher up.”
Higher up meant their regimental commanding officer, Colonel H. Stacy Clardy III. And he would have to clear something like this upward through his chain of command.
“Do you know what he told me the first day he met me?” Mark said. “He said, ‘If you mess up, I will fire you.’”
“He told me the same thing,” David said. They laughed.
“Well, I don’t think we should do this,” Mark said.
“Let me tell you about my chat with Kevin Jarrard,” David said.
“You know how it is. As you’re listening, you’re processing—you know, active listening. You’re picking up on the critical vulnerabil- ities. Where could this thing go wrong? You know, I’m watching the guy talking to me, who I know very well, and I’m looking at him. Is he tired? Has he thought this out? What kind of game is he on right now? Is he on his ‘A’ game, or not? Because sometimes even your best guys have bad days. You start by listening to their words, but you are really taking inventory of them. Sometimes you’re thinking, ‘Okay, this guy needs some coaching and how can I apply my social energy to help him succeed today?’ But it was pretty clear to me, almost immediately, that Kevin had thought this out. He and Nadeau had talked this over before he talked to me, and he was dropping little data points along as he talked. He mentioned he’d talked with Nadeau because he knows I admire and respect Nadeau. So, very quickly, my mental inventory was, ‘Okay, this thing isn’t half-baked. They have already done some pretty solid work here.’”
“It sounds like you want to do this crazy thing,” Mark said. He knew that technically, as a Navy Captain, John Nadeau outranked both Kevin Jarrard and David Bellon. But John wouldn’t push himself, though his word had quite a bit of weight to it, “currency” in Mark’s military view.
“Well, I do want to do it. But you two talk it over. I’m going to step out of the room for a spell.”
As soon as David was out of hearing, Mark and Kevin Clark began to talk. Mark had already given the hard push back. It was like David to drop a little bomb like that in their office and then leave. They talked it over, debated the fine points, and by the time David returned, they had shifted to problem solving. They laid out the risks, and he laid out what he wanted to do.
“The mother has to go too,” David said. “The tribes won’t let a lit- tle girl travel alone, and the father’s still on a watch list. Too iffy. Can’t leave the country.”
“Well, I do want to do it. But you two talk it over. I’m going to step out of the room for a spell.”
As soon as David was out of hearing, Mark and Kevin Clark began to talk. Mark had already given the hard push back. It was like David to drop a little bomb like that in their office and then leave. They talked it over, debated the fine points, and by the time David returned, they had shifted to problem solving. They laid out the risks, and he laid out what he wanted to do.
“The mother has to go too,” David said. “The tribes won’t let a lit- tle girl travel alone, and the father’s still on a watch list. Too iffy. Can’t leave the country.”
“Oh, this just gets better.”
“I know. It is what it is. What else?”
Mark said, “You know, they’re going to need passports from Iraq and visas from Homeland Security,” Mark said.
“Jake Falcone’s your man for that,” David said. Jake was the battal- ion communications officer, who David knew had a Washington, D.C., background and could facilitate clearance and passports, both from Iraq and Homeland Security, for Amenah and her mother to enter the United States—no easy feat, and one that would involve him traveling to meet the right people and move things along.
Mark said, “You know, whenever you ask something like this of me, I think that there is much more. I need to find the why, why, why—to get the big picture. And one of my very first concerns, sir, is about benefits versus risks. This is a very strategic decision with strategic implications if things fail.”
A key part of the big picture included the impact doing this would have on locals. The Marine mission at this time was to help build the capacity of the Iraqi police and Iraqi Army so they could assume the role of security—this in a time when it was hard to even keep the markets open so people had a place to sell their tomatoes. “If something goes wrong with this plan, and it easily could, that could jeopardize quite a bit,” Mark said.
“I know,” David said. “This isn’t just about Kevin, Dr. Nadeau, and this little girl. It’s about 1,800 Americans and 65,000 Iraqis. If we get lost in this, or if it goes sideways, we could derail a pretty frag- ile peace. Also, are we going to suck up assets that we really need to apply someplace else?”
“I know. It is what it is. What else?”
Mark said, “You know, they’re going to need passports from Iraq and visas from Homeland Security,” Mark said.
“Jake Falcone’s your man for that,” David said. Jake was the battal- ion communications officer, who David knew had a Washington, D.C., background and could facilitate clearance and passports, both from Iraq and Homeland Security, for Amenah and her mother to enter the United States—no easy feat, and one that would involve him traveling to meet the right people and move things along.
Mark said, “You know, whenever you ask something like this of me, I think that there is much more. I need to find the why, why, why—to get the big picture. And one of my very first concerns, sir, is about benefits versus risks. This is a very strategic decision with strategic implications if things fail.”
A key part of the big picture included the impact doing this would have on locals. The Marine mission at this time was to help build the capacity of the Iraqi police and Iraqi Army so they could assume the role of security—this in a time when it was hard to even keep the markets open so people had a place to sell their tomatoes. “If something goes wrong with this plan, and it easily could, that could jeopardize quite a bit,” Mark said.
“I know,” David said. “This isn’t just about Kevin, Dr. Nadeau, and this little girl. It’s about 1,800 Americans and 65,000 Iraqis. If we get lost in this, or if it goes sideways, we could derail a pretty frag- ile peace. Also, are we going to suck up assets that we really need to apply someplace else?”
What would weigh a lot is how much currency Lieutenant Colonel Bellon and his officers had built up with their commanding officer.
“All I have to say is if this had come up or if we’d presented it when we first got here, given Colonel Clardy’s opening remarks to us, I think it would have been almost impossible to sell this to him,” Mark said.
“Yeah,” David agreed. “He would have fired us.”
Photo Source: Marines—Mark Lamelza (click here) Figure 3 Lieutenant Colonel Bellon and Colonel Clardy
* * *
“All I have to say is if this had come up or if we’d presented it when we first got here, given Colonel Clardy’s opening remarks to us, I think it would have been almost impossible to sell this to him,” Mark said.
“Yeah,” David agreed. “He would have fired us.”
Photo Source: Marines—Mark Lamelza (click here) Figure 3 Lieutenant Colonel Bellon and Colonel Clardy
* * *
Kelly Jarrard, back in Gainesville, Georgia, got an e-mail from her husband telling her about Amenah. Though she was kept busy raising four small children on her own, she called a family friend, Robin Smith, at the BB&T Bank in Gainesville, Georgia, and started an account to raise part of the money for transportation. The effort could only be a quiet grassroots one at first because any word getting back to Iraq might jeopardize Amenah even getting to leave.
On December 14, 2007, Kevin’s aunt, Janet Jarrard, opened her e-mail and rocked back in her chair for a moment when she found a similar but more complex request. Kevin said he was taking up a collection among the Marines, and had the hospital at Vanderbilt lined up, but he needed her help with a whole lot more. All Janet had to do was help raise almost $30,000 for commercial travel costs for both the mother and daughter to leave from and return to Iraq, ensure the family had a place to stay, that an interpreter could be on hand, find a medical team to get the family to and from America, make sure culturally appropriate foods were on hand, find a female escort, part nurse and part chaperone, and, oh, by the way, do all this quickly please, chop, chop.
Anyone else might have torn at their hair and run screaming into the woods. But not Janet. Time might be of the essence, but she never flinched. His e-mail told her he had begun the necessary steps for documentation, paperwork, clearance, and permission from his superiors. Fund-raising to bring a Muslim child and her mother to the Christian south was going to be no easy feat. Recall Pastor Terry Jones from Gainesville, Florida, the controversial person who burned the Koran in March of 2011, causing riots in the Middle East that resulted in numerous deaths, including UN workers and their wives. His actions marked one extreme of the grassroots mood. There was a lot of confusion and some prejudice about Muslims. Kevin’s appeal to those stateside was that a little girl’s life was at stake. In the face of those who might say, “You can’t save them all,” he said, “But we might be able to save one.” Janet’s first thought was, “Now, how in the heck are we going to do it?” He was asking her to be the point person in Nashville. Then, like her counterparts overseas, she shrugged off the impossibilities and started figuring out ways to make it all happen.
At the time, she was in the middle of redoing her kitchen, but she dropped that and started sending out a flurry of e-mails about an Iraqi child who was dying and they needed funds and logistical help getting her to Vanderbilt. A new kitchen is one thing, she fig- ured, but this was a life-and-death matter. So she opened herself to the tasks, but she also realized she couldn’t do it all. She, like every- body she spoke to, believed this situation was a calling, something God was going to make happen and she was to be one small part of it. As she explained to a friend, “There is a power greater than us that is activated when we open ourselves up for it, uncap our indi- vidual wells of creativity, thinking, determination, obstinance, whatever you want to call it. Just opening oneself up to letting that information flow makes the difference.”
And flow it did. Two enormously important things happened as a result of her e-mails. At that time, she was working for Tennessee Donor Services, doing public education and PR for the organ pro- curement organization for the state of Tennessee. One of the organ recovery coordinators who heard about Amenah’s situation was Jonathan Malloch, who said, “How can I help?” He had a med- ical background, had EMT experience, and had worked with FEMA during the response to Hurricane Katrina. More impor- tant, he had an extensive military background with all the connec- tions that went with that—he was exactly what Janet needed, someone who could speak the military as well as civilian language.
And flow it did. Two enormously important things happened as a result of her e-mails. At that time, she was working for Tennessee Donor Services, doing public education and PR for the organ pro- curement organization for the state of Tennessee. One of the organ recovery coordinators who heard about Amenah’s situation was Jonathan Malloch, who said, “How can I help?” He had a med- ical background, had EMT experience, and had worked with FEMA during the response to Hurricane Katrina. More impor- tant, he had an extensive military background with all the connec- tions that went with that—he was exactly what Janet needed, someone who could speak the military as well as civilian language.
Even though he wouldn’t be free to go along himself, he knew how the military worked, could assemble an extraction team of capable medics, could arrange for their diplomatic clearance, and he even said he’d see to the logistics of getting the mother and daughter out of Iraq into Jordan for their commercial flights. The second extraordinary event that happened as a result of Janet’s reaching out was hearing from Deanna Dolan of World Relief, a nonprofit organization.
Deanna spoke some Arabic and was willing to help provide a full- time interpreter, Zainab, a woman whose life had been threatened in Iraq because she had translated for the U.S. troops. Deanna was also a member of the Grace Chapel Church in Lieper’s Fork, Tennessee, just outside Nashville, where Steve Berger was the pas- tor. The church at once started a collection to help bring Amenah to America for the operation, and Steve and his wife Sarah even agreed to let mother and daughter, as well as Deanna and Zainab stay at their home to help provide orientation and help with plan- ning culturally appropriate food.
Well, that was falling into place nicely, Janet thought. Because a female traveling chaperone was necessary, she also lined up her nurse friend, Lisa Van Wye, from Bowling Green, Kentucky, to make the trip to Jordan along with the extraction medical team to escort mother and daughter to America.
With funds slowly trickling in because they couldn’t make a public call for funds until Amenah was safely out of Iraq, Janet had to go ahead and pay for the commercial flight tickets with her own credit card, trusting that the $7,000 she was laying out could be returned, and it soon was. Other than organizational meetings with Jonathan and the PR people at Vanderbilt, most of her fran- tic involvement was over by December, so she could take a deep breath and begin to relax. Somehow, getting that kitchen redone didn’t seem quite so pressing at the moment.
Deanna spoke some Arabic and was willing to help provide a full- time interpreter, Zainab, a woman whose life had been threatened in Iraq because she had translated for the U.S. troops. Deanna was also a member of the Grace Chapel Church in Lieper’s Fork, Tennessee, just outside Nashville, where Steve Berger was the pas- tor. The church at once started a collection to help bring Amenah to America for the operation, and Steve and his wife Sarah even agreed to let mother and daughter, as well as Deanna and Zainab stay at their home to help provide orientation and help with plan- ning culturally appropriate food.
Well, that was falling into place nicely, Janet thought. Because a female traveling chaperone was necessary, she also lined up her nurse friend, Lisa Van Wye, from Bowling Green, Kentucky, to make the trip to Jordan along with the extraction medical team to escort mother and daughter to America.
With funds slowly trickling in because they couldn’t make a public call for funds until Amenah was safely out of Iraq, Janet had to go ahead and pay for the commercial flight tickets with her own credit card, trusting that the $7,000 she was laying out could be returned, and it soon was. Other than organizational meetings with Jonathan and the PR people at Vanderbilt, most of her fran- tic involvement was over by December, so she could take a deep breath and begin to relax. Somehow, getting that kitchen redone didn’t seem quite so pressing at the moment.
* * *
“Good news,” Jonathan Malloch said. He sat across the confer- ence room table from Glenn Susskind and Gary White, two col- leagues of his on the Disaster Medical Assistance team who had agreed to fly to Jordan to act as the extraction team. Outside, flecks of snow swirled down from a pensive sky over Chattanooga, although the drive to the D-MAT building that morning had been through fairly clear streets.
Glenn arched an eyebrow and Gary fiddled with his pen and pad.
“You saw my e-mail to Kevin Jarrard that we weren’t going to be able to help like we’d hoped—that it was a ‘no go’ for us. Right?”
“Yeah, and we saw his reply to keep trying,” Gary said.
“He sure does seem a man on a mission,” Glenn agreed.
Jonathan nodded. “Kevin says arrangements are already in place at Vanderbilt. You’ve seen how he’s keeping us up on everything over there. I take it that their regimental commander, a full bird colonel named Clardy, was visiting so Lieutenant Colonel Bellon arranged for Kevin to ask him for a helicopter to get to the Jordanian border. Clardy told Kevin that if everything comes together, the regiment would give him a helicopter. Now it’s up to us to make sure everything in our piece is ready. That brings me to the best news yet. Blackwater Worldwide has agreed to help with the extraction, on their dime. This is huge. They’ll escort you to the Jordanian border and back to Amman. They just want to vet you, and that’s okay. You’ll both stand up to that. You may even
get briefed about everything, and I mean everything, even how to comb your hair.”
“Good news,” Jonathan Malloch said. He sat across the confer- ence room table from Glenn Susskind and Gary White, two col- leagues of his on the Disaster Medical Assistance team who had agreed to fly to Jordan to act as the extraction team. Outside, flecks of snow swirled down from a pensive sky over Chattanooga, although the drive to the D-MAT building that morning had been through fairly clear streets.
Glenn arched an eyebrow and Gary fiddled with his pen and pad.
“You saw my e-mail to Kevin Jarrard that we weren’t going to be able to help like we’d hoped—that it was a ‘no go’ for us. Right?”
“Yeah, and we saw his reply to keep trying,” Gary said.
“He sure does seem a man on a mission,” Glenn agreed.
Jonathan nodded. “Kevin says arrangements are already in place at Vanderbilt. You’ve seen how he’s keeping us up on everything over there. I take it that their regimental commander, a full bird colonel named Clardy, was visiting so Lieutenant Colonel Bellon arranged for Kevin to ask him for a helicopter to get to the Jordanian border. Clardy told Kevin that if everything comes together, the regiment would give him a helicopter. Now it’s up to us to make sure everything in our piece is ready. That brings me to the best news yet. Blackwater Worldwide has agreed to help with the extraction, on their dime. This is huge. They’ll escort you to the Jordanian border and back to Amman. They just want to vet you, and that’s okay. You’ll both stand up to that. You may even
get briefed about everything, and I mean everything, even how to comb your hair.”
“No problem,” Glenn said. “I’m glad it’s back on. I was really hop- ing to help see this through.” He looked toward Gary.
“That’s great,” Gary agreed. “But I’ll let Glenn go first. You know how I am when I get talking.”
“Well, I’ve been going over all we need to pack, how much we can carry,” Glenn said. He was the medic of the team, who’d also been with FEMA at Katrina and had recently gotten back from Haiti. His background included work in Arizona doing a lot of fixed- wing transports of moving patients over quite long distances. “I’m still running down what we can get in Jordan, and what we can bring or take out. Oxygen is going to be an issue.”
“I looked into the cost for chartering a Galaxy 6,” Gary said. “Way out of reach. An air medical agency is a quarter of a million for just one way. Scratch that. We’ll have to figure out how to do this as best we can on a limited budget.”
“We’ve both gone through the briefing material on Muslim- American relations, any cultural issues, the tribe this mother and daughter are from, so we should be okay there too,” Glenn said.
“I appreciate you guys going, because I can’t go, and Kevin Jarrard is still in theater over in Iraq, and Vanderbilt has no means of get- ting them here. The safety of you two is my top concern, which is why I’m glad we were able to get Blackwater involved. It looks like we’re going to have to go with Royal Jordanian Airlines, though. It’s all we can afford considering what’s been gathered so far, and their chief medical officer has to approve the girl for travel or she’s not getting on their planes,” Jonathan said.
“Then we’ll need a Plan B if we have to go by ground transporta- tion,” Gary said.
“And a Plan C if she gets worse, or dies,” Glenn said.
* * *
Jake Falcone handed Kevin Jarrard the small pile of passports and visas. “This should be everything you need,” he said. I don’t mind telling you that I had to grease the occasional palm here and there on this side, and getting the stuff from Washington, D.C., well, it’s D.C. after all. That was six weeks.”
Kevin grinned. He knew how the State Department and Department of Homeland Security worked. “Thanks for all your travel and help on this.” He was leafing through the documents as he spoke. “Oh, my gosh.”
“What?”
“This passport is for Fatima. That’s Amenah’s seven-year-old sister!”
“Well, that’s the information you gave me.”
“I know. It’s not you, Jake. I don’t speak or write Arabic. What am I going to do? Their flight’s in 72 hours!”
“I wish I could help, but I can’t get away. If you can take them over to Baghdad, they could straighten it out in time over there.”
“I’ve got a river clearing operation on the Euphrates. I can’t do it.”
“Well, call a cab then.”
That’s what Kevin did. First he called some of his Iraqi friends who had friends in the Department of the Interior in Baghdad. He would have to make one last gamble. He had less than 48 hours to
get them to Baghdad, get an Iraqi passport, get them back to Haditha, and get them on a helicopter. He was not panicked, but he did not see how it would be possible. He raced to their house after midnight, woke up the mom and dad and Amenah, and said, “Look, I’ve got to get you to Baghdad tomorrow, we’ve only got one shot to make this happen.”
“And a Plan C if she gets worse, or dies,” Glenn said.
* * *
Jake Falcone handed Kevin Jarrard the small pile of passports and visas. “This should be everything you need,” he said. I don’t mind telling you that I had to grease the occasional palm here and there on this side, and getting the stuff from Washington, D.C., well, it’s D.C. after all. That was six weeks.”
Kevin grinned. He knew how the State Department and Department of Homeland Security worked. “Thanks for all your travel and help on this.” He was leafing through the documents as he spoke. “Oh, my gosh.”
“What?”
“This passport is for Fatima. That’s Amenah’s seven-year-old sister!”
“Well, that’s the information you gave me.”
“I know. It’s not you, Jake. I don’t speak or write Arabic. What am I going to do? Their flight’s in 72 hours!”
“I wish I could help, but I can’t get away. If you can take them over to Baghdad, they could straighten it out in time over there.”
“I’ve got a river clearing operation on the Euphrates. I can’t do it.”
“Well, call a cab then.”
That’s what Kevin did. First he called some of his Iraqi friends who had friends in the Department of the Interior in Baghdad. He would have to make one last gamble. He had less than 48 hours to
get them to Baghdad, get an Iraqi passport, get them back to Haditha, and get them on a helicopter. He was not panicked, but he did not see how it would be possible. He raced to their house after midnight, woke up the mom and dad and Amenah, and said, “Look, I’ve got to get you to Baghdad tomorrow, we’ve only got one shot to make this happen.”
Still before daylight in the morning, he loaded mother, father, and Amenah into a cab, paid the driver, and sent them hurtling off toward Baghdad.
Whew. Well, he’d done all he could.
After that chaotic start to what turned out to be another chaotic day, Kevin came back to his command post very late in the day. He was listening to reports and talking to some of his leaders when he got a frantic call from one of his checkpoints, “Sir, it’s Captain Semir”—one of Kevin’s Iraqi friends—“he’s got to see you now, there’s been a terrible emergency.”
Kevin ran over to the checkpoint. Captain Semir said, “Sir, Amenah and her family have been shot up, there’s been a terrible misunderstanding out on the highway.”
The friendly fire incident happened five or six kilometers from town, so he scrambled vehicles and they raced on out. The sun had gone down. It was dark. They were on the highway heading out, and in the headlights of the Humvee Kevin was traveling in, he saw the taxi that he sent them out to Baghdad in that morning. They had been in that taxi at his orders. He was responsible for their lives. He saw bullet holes in the front windshield.
He was going to have to arrest some Iraqi soldiers. Everyone was shouting, waving arms, and rushing around. His vehicle stopped. He ran to the car, thinking, “I have killed an Iraqi mother, father, and daughter.”
Whew. Well, he’d done all he could.
After that chaotic start to what turned out to be another chaotic day, Kevin came back to his command post very late in the day. He was listening to reports and talking to some of his leaders when he got a frantic call from one of his checkpoints, “Sir, it’s Captain Semir”—one of Kevin’s Iraqi friends—“he’s got to see you now, there’s been a terrible emergency.”
Kevin ran over to the checkpoint. Captain Semir said, “Sir, Amenah and her family have been shot up, there’s been a terrible misunderstanding out on the highway.”
The friendly fire incident happened five or six kilometers from town, so he scrambled vehicles and they raced on out. The sun had gone down. It was dark. They were on the highway heading out, and in the headlights of the Humvee Kevin was traveling in, he saw the taxi that he sent them out to Baghdad in that morning. They had been in that taxi at his orders. He was responsible for their lives. He saw bullet holes in the front windshield.
He was going to have to arrest some Iraqi soldiers. Everyone was shouting, waving arms, and rushing around. His vehicle stopped. He ran to the car, thinking, “I have killed an Iraqi mother, father, and daughter.”
He ran to the side of the taxi, and there in the ditch is Alaa Thabit, the father, and Maha, the mother, with Amenah in her arms, rock- ing back and forth. They were okay.
The Iraqi army had received a report about some bad guys in a vehicle of similar description, and had shot the vehicle thinking it was the bad guys. Miraculously, no one was harmed. The bullets had passed through the top of the car and missed them, and nobody was harmed. And…they had the passport. They had man- aged to get Amenah’s passport. Kevin was on his knees in the dirt with his eyes closed, thinking, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Lord, for preserving the lives of my friends.”
* * *
With 12 hours to go before getting them onto a helicopter, Kevin got called to a tribal “powwow” with all of the mother’s brothers, all of the male members of her family. He took his interpreter and a couple of Iraqi friends, but soon found himself sitting across the room from them; they were armed and didn’t look happy.
He knew when he walked into the room that this wasn’t good. He could sense that there was some tension here, and couldn’t figure out why until they started talking. They said, “Listen, we’ve decided that we’re not going to allow our sister Maha to travel to America without a male member of her family. That would be dis- honoring to our family.”
Kevin said, “So, wait a minute, you would prefer to see your niece die than allow your family to be dishonored?”
They said, “Yes, exactly.”
Kevin told his interpreter to tell them some things, and the inter- preter said, “Sir, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” So, he had a moment to reconsider. It was a good thing, he thought later, that he didn’t speak good Arabic or it might have just turned into a shooting match. They looked ready for it. Their hands rested ready by their weapons.
The Iraqi army had received a report about some bad guys in a vehicle of similar description, and had shot the vehicle thinking it was the bad guys. Miraculously, no one was harmed. The bullets had passed through the top of the car and missed them, and nobody was harmed. And…they had the passport. They had man- aged to get Amenah’s passport. Kevin was on his knees in the dirt with his eyes closed, thinking, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Lord, for preserving the lives of my friends.”
* * *
With 12 hours to go before getting them onto a helicopter, Kevin got called to a tribal “powwow” with all of the mother’s brothers, all of the male members of her family. He took his interpreter and a couple of Iraqi friends, but soon found himself sitting across the room from them; they were armed and didn’t look happy.
He knew when he walked into the room that this wasn’t good. He could sense that there was some tension here, and couldn’t figure out why until they started talking. They said, “Listen, we’ve decided that we’re not going to allow our sister Maha to travel to America without a male member of her family. That would be dis- honoring to our family.”
Kevin said, “So, wait a minute, you would prefer to see your niece die than allow your family to be dishonored?”
They said, “Yes, exactly.”
Kevin told his interpreter to tell them some things, and the inter- preter said, “Sir, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” So, he had a moment to reconsider. It was a good thing, he thought later, that he didn’t speak good Arabic or it might have just turned into a shooting match. They looked ready for it. Their hands rested ready by their weapons.
What he told them was, “Listen. You know me and I know you. And I’m going to give you my word of honor that your sister will not be in the presence of an American male without a female escort. I will ensure that she has a female escort wherever she goes, and that’s the best I can do. I’m giving you my word. I’m just sim- ply asking that you trust me.”
They chattered among themselves, often with the heated waving of arms. Eventually, Sheik Said Flayah Othman from the al-Jughayfi tribe, who spoke for all of them, said, “Your word is enough.”
Source: Marines—Mark Lamelza (CLICK HERE)
Figure 4 Major Kevin Jarrard, Sheik Said Flayah Othman, tribal chief from the al-Jughayfi tribe, Lieutenant Colonel Bellon
They chattered among themselves, often with the heated waving of arms. Eventually, Sheik Said Flayah Othman from the al-Jughayfi tribe, who spoke for all of them, said, “Your word is enough.”
Source: Marines—Mark Lamelza (CLICK HERE)
Figure 4 Major Kevin Jarrard, Sheik Said Flayah Othman, tribal chief from the al-Jughayfi tribe, Lieutenant Colonel Bellon
* * *
Before morning, Kevin had arranged to have one of the female Iraqi interpreters travel with them to the border checkpoint. She was along when Kevin picked up Amenah and her mother, who had never been out of Haditha, Iraq, in her life. As the CH-53 hel- icopter they would travel in landed, Kevin watched the mother’s eyes get big. She must have thought this was like something from outer space.
Source: Marines—Mark Lamelza (click here)
Figure 5 Major Kevin Jarrard holds Amenah before she leaves Haditha, Iraq.
Their destination, hours away, was where Highway 10 crosses the Iraqi-Jordan border at Trebil. As they flew west, a blinding snow- storm developed. It doesn’t snow in western Iraq very often. If that helicopter had been 10 or 15 minutes late getting into Haditha, they wouldn’t have made it to Trebil before the whiteout hit.
Before morning, Kevin had arranged to have one of the female Iraqi interpreters travel with them to the border checkpoint. She was along when Kevin picked up Amenah and her mother, who had never been out of Haditha, Iraq, in her life. As the CH-53 hel- icopter they would travel in landed, Kevin watched the mother’s eyes get big. She must have thought this was like something from outer space.
Source: Marines—Mark Lamelza (click here)
Figure 5 Major Kevin Jarrard holds Amenah before she leaves Haditha, Iraq.
Their destination, hours away, was where Highway 10 crosses the Iraqi-Jordan border at Trebil. As they flew west, a blinding snow- storm developed. It doesn’t snow in western Iraq very often. If that helicopter had been 10 or 15 minutes late getting into Haditha, they wouldn’t have made it to Trebil before the whiteout hit.
The snow was thick and all around them and they had only a 10- or 15-minute window to get the helicopter onto the ground, get Amenah and her mother to the checkpoint at the border, and into the arms of the American team there. A few handshakes and hugs, some prayers, and off they went, disappearing into the snow. At that point, all Kevin could do was pray that all would be well. He had time for that. He was snowed in and couldn’t go back to Haditha himself for two days.
* * *
Gary White sat in the lead vehicle and waited. They all looked out the windows and watched. Glenn Susskind was in the medical vehicle parked behind theirs. The third vehicle, parked behind that, one the Blackwater men referred to as a “bump” vehicle, was along just in case anything happened to one of the other two.
He looked up at the dark clouds and was glad he wasn’t the one in a four-hour helicopter ride. Snow swirled around them and cov- ered the ground and had begun to drift.
“I thought it never snowed here,” he said.
“It doesn’t,” the interpreter said. “Not like this, anyway. I haven’t seen anything like this in years.” She was another part of the puz- zle Blackwater had already helped fix when the original interpreter they’d arranged for didn’t work out. The Blackwater guys had also helped Glenn get all the extra medical supplies he needed too— oxygen, food, water, even IV fluids.
Now they waited, and watched it snow.
The 280 miles from Amman to the Jordanian border had taken three-and-a-half hours after leaving at 4:30 a.m. When they’d come to each of the many checkpoints, vehicles had queued up in long lines, but those checking the vehicles had moved the barriers and waved the Blackwater caravan through each time. Going back was going to be a whole different can of beans with all this snow.
Then began a scene like out of a TV show. First they saw the lights, and then the shapes of two helicopters emerged from the blur of falling snow. One of the helicopters eased to the ground. The other continued to circle above, keeping a tight and secure perimeter. It waited for the helicopter on the ground to empty.
Gary and Glenn got out of their vehicles and went to the check- point with the Blackwater team and the interpreter to greet the mother and daughter. As they moved through the snow, Kevin Jarrard was grinning like it was Christmas. They could see relief on his face too, and the hugs all around were firm and genuine. The other helicopter spun and took off. Kevin sure smiled a lot for someone who was going to be stuck on the ground there for a while.
Glenn and the female Navy corpsman, a medic from Kevin’s team, were both taking a quick look at Amenah and assessing her, exchanging information, and the interpreter was helping with the Arabic. Amenah was blue. She had a runny nose and all the typical signs of an upper respiratory infection. She had a fever. Through the interpreter, they learned that this was not how she usually was. So they’d been brought a child who was sick on top of being sick. They were well dressed for the cold and snow but Amenah was very dehydrated. They checked her blood pressure and pulse and oxygen saturation. Her sats (saturations) were low, lower than they apparently had been day to day. The stress and whatever
infection she had going on was getting to her. It was time they started back to Amman.
Then began a scene like out of a TV show. First they saw the lights, and then the shapes of two helicopters emerged from the blur of falling snow. One of the helicopters eased to the ground. The other continued to circle above, keeping a tight and secure perimeter. It waited for the helicopter on the ground to empty.
Gary and Glenn got out of their vehicles and went to the check- point with the Blackwater team and the interpreter to greet the mother and daughter. As they moved through the snow, Kevin Jarrard was grinning like it was Christmas. They could see relief on his face too, and the hugs all around were firm and genuine. The other helicopter spun and took off. Kevin sure smiled a lot for someone who was going to be stuck on the ground there for a while.
Glenn and the female Navy corpsman, a medic from Kevin’s team, were both taking a quick look at Amenah and assessing her, exchanging information, and the interpreter was helping with the Arabic. Amenah was blue. She had a runny nose and all the typical signs of an upper respiratory infection. She had a fever. Through the interpreter, they learned that this was not how she usually was. So they’d been brought a child who was sick on top of being sick. They were well dressed for the cold and snow but Amenah was very dehydrated. They checked her blood pressure and pulse and oxygen saturation. Her sats (saturations) were low, lower than they apparently had been day to day. The stress and whatever
infection she had going on was getting to her. It was time they started back to Amman.
“Oh, and one other thing,” the Navy medic said, “The mother is diabetic. Here’s her insulin.”
“Great,” Glenn said. He’d been hoping to meet a physician and get an extensive report. But it was what it was. Gary was already start- ing to watch how she moved, considering whether she was going to have trouble handling the plane rides or walking through airports.
Kevin and his group had turned and now scurried back to their helicopter, which had shut down its prop, a sign they were proba- bly not going to try to fly back to Haditha that day.
Glenn, Gary, Amenah, her mother, the interpreter, and Lisa Van Wye, Janet Jarrard’s nurse friend who Kevin had promised would be a female chaperone, all loaded into the medical vehicle, and when everyone was inside, the small caravan turned and started back toward Amman in what was already half a foot of snow with more coming down.
In addition to snacks, fresh fruit, Gatorade, and other supplies for the road, Glenn had also brought along a small DVD player, along with a couple of Disney DVDs like Mickey Mouse. That enter- tained Amenah enough for Glenn to assess her as they rolled along.
Still, the journey back was long. Perhaps it felt more so because Amenah was tired, agitated, and cranky, as any child that age with a fever and a runny nose would be, on top of travel fatigue and not being able to catch her breath. Put a child like that in a crowded Suburban, her mother at constant arm’s reach, for almost four hours and it’s nobody’s idea of a jolly time.
“Great,” Glenn said. He’d been hoping to meet a physician and get an extensive report. But it was what it was. Gary was already start- ing to watch how she moved, considering whether she was going to have trouble handling the plane rides or walking through airports.
Kevin and his group had turned and now scurried back to their helicopter, which had shut down its prop, a sign they were proba- bly not going to try to fly back to Haditha that day.
Glenn, Gary, Amenah, her mother, the interpreter, and Lisa Van Wye, Janet Jarrard’s nurse friend who Kevin had promised would be a female chaperone, all loaded into the medical vehicle, and when everyone was inside, the small caravan turned and started back toward Amman in what was already half a foot of snow with more coming down.
In addition to snacks, fresh fruit, Gatorade, and other supplies for the road, Glenn had also brought along a small DVD player, along with a couple of Disney DVDs like Mickey Mouse. That enter- tained Amenah enough for Glenn to assess her as they rolled along.
Still, the journey back was long. Perhaps it felt more so because Amenah was tired, agitated, and cranky, as any child that age with a fever and a runny nose would be, on top of travel fatigue and not being able to catch her breath. Put a child like that in a crowded Suburban, her mother at constant arm’s reach, for almost four hours and it’s nobody’s idea of a jolly time.
They breathed a collective large sigh when they pulled up at the five-star InterContinental Hotel, one of the finest in Amman, where Blackwater had made arrangements. The staff had been carefully preprepared for their arrival. They put them in rooms in the center of a hallway. There were no other guests in that whole hallway. They had cleared the hallway at Blackwater’s request. It was quite secure. Amenah and her mother were in one room, and Glenn and Gary had the adjoining rooms. Once settled, they could do a better assessment on Amenah, and start working on getting the fever down, getting her hydrated, and giving her some cough medicine. They did everything they could to prepare her for travel, while trying to be the least invasive as possible. They had strong concerns because now she had a cold and was even that much sicker.
Glenn made a call to the Vanderbilt hospital and spoke with Dr. Thomas Doyle, a pediatric cardiologist who would be working with Dr. Karla Christian. Glenn told him, “Hey, this is not the pic- ture that we’ve had painted. When we get back, you need to be ready for a really sick kid, not a semihealthy one.”
From their assessment at the hotel, they knew that Amenah was going to require oxygen, especially once the plane gained enough altitude to pressurize. There was no way they could carry enough oxygen for a 14-hour flight. The flight would be stressful for all, but especially for the two-year-old.
When Lisa Van Wye, Gary White, Glenn Susskind, Amenah, her mother, and their Blackwater escort got to the airport, they were told at the ticket counter that Amenah needed to see the airline’s doctor to get her health certified. They were escorted quite a dis- tance, through what looked to Glenn like the bowels of the airport, to where a doctor examined Amenah, said she was okay to fly, and he gave them authorization to take oxygen onto the plane. Then they passed through multiple security stations and found that on the plane, a male flight attendant on the Royal Jordanian Airlines is the lead person on each flight. He also makes a determination of whether or not anybody can get on the flight, and he reports to the pilot, who gets to make a determination again about if anybody can get on the flight.
Once they had those hurdles behind them, they tried to upgrade Amenah to get her in First Class, but that didn’t work out. They all sat in the Coach section, though they got a whole row, all the way in the back. Most of the stewardesses, including the steward, did- n’t speak English at all, except one who had family in the states and was very fluent. Because they were without an interpreter, her presence was very helpful. Another passenger, who was Jordanian but was an American psychiatrist, a doctor, helped them with the translation issues too.
They had the oxygen generators, but knew they needed one to get them from Chicago to Nashville. They hoped that about 8 hours of oxygen in the generators would be enough for a 14-hour flight. They hoped that they would be able to wean her a little bit at take- off and landing, so she wouldn’t need as much oxygen. That did not work out to be the case.
They watched her pulse oximeter the whole way, and her oxygen would get very low, low to the point where she would actually start getting a little bit sluggish and a little bit air hungry. So they opted to leave her on a higher concentration of oxygen through the beginning of the flight, hoping they would get her to fall asleep and decrease her oxygen needs. That also didn’t work out.
Seven hours into the flight, Glenn and Gary realized they would not have enough oxygen, so their backup plan became to utilize some of the airplane’s oxygen. The steward wasn’t happy about that, but they were able to convince him that they didn’t need to use all of the plane’s oxygen. They could probably get by with one or two tanks. So they used what would be the emergency oxygen for passengers. They had to manipulate the tanks somewhat. The plane’s administration system was completely different from any- thing they had seen before. Glenn managed to rig up something that would get her oxygen the whole way home, and they literally finished their last liter of oxygen as they were landing in Chicago.
They had the oxygen generators, but knew they needed one to get them from Chicago to Nashville. They hoped that about 8 hours of oxygen in the generators would be enough for a 14-hour flight. They hoped that they would be able to wean her a little bit at take- off and landing, so she wouldn’t need as much oxygen. That did not work out to be the case.
They watched her pulse oximeter the whole way, and her oxygen would get very low, low to the point where she would actually start getting a little bit sluggish and a little bit air hungry. So they opted to leave her on a higher concentration of oxygen through the beginning of the flight, hoping they would get her to fall asleep and decrease her oxygen needs. That also didn’t work out.
Seven hours into the flight, Glenn and Gary realized they would not have enough oxygen, so their backup plan became to utilize some of the airplane’s oxygen. The steward wasn’t happy about that, but they were able to convince him that they didn’t need to use all of the plane’s oxygen. They could probably get by with one or two tanks. So they used what would be the emergency oxygen for passengers. They had to manipulate the tanks somewhat. The plane’s administration system was completely different from any- thing they had seen before. Glenn managed to rig up something that would get her oxygen the whole way home, and they literally finished their last liter of oxygen as they were landing in Chicago.
They didn’t really have a contingency to go to a Chicago hospital, but they had a contingency in case she got very ill and they had to fly her on an air ambulance from Chicago to Nashville. They checked her again, and though she was cranky, tired, and feverish, they deemed her strong enough for one more flight. They headed for the airplane where they had a battery-operated oxygen genera- tor waiting for the Chicago to Nashville part of the trip.
* * *
Deanna Dolan, with World Relief, their Arabic interpreter Zainab, Pastor Steve Berger of Grace Chapel Church in Lieper’s Fork, Tennessee, along with Kelly Jarrard, Kevin’s wife, and her four children were there at the Nashville airport to greet Amenah, her mother, Lisa, Gary, Glenn, and their Blackwater escort. Several news crews from varied media were on hand too, now that it was safe to talk about the effort to save Amenah. When Amenah’s mother saw Kelly, she went to the mother and four kids and gave each a warm hug and kiss. She said it was from Major Jarrard back in Iraq, who had showed her pictures and said he missed them very much.
* * *
Deanna Dolan, with World Relief, their Arabic interpreter Zainab, Pastor Steve Berger of Grace Chapel Church in Lieper’s Fork, Tennessee, along with Kelly Jarrard, Kevin’s wife, and her four children were there at the Nashville airport to greet Amenah, her mother, Lisa, Gary, Glenn, and their Blackwater escort. Several news crews from varied media were on hand too, now that it was safe to talk about the effort to save Amenah. When Amenah’s mother saw Kelly, she went to the mother and four kids and gave each a warm hug and kiss. She said it was from Major Jarrard back in Iraq, who had showed her pictures and said he missed them very much.
The news stations wanted footage and their stories, but Deanna thought Amenah did not look well at all, so the welcoming group sought to keep everything low key. Amenah’s lips were blue, her face blue. She looked like she needed oxygen. Still, she tottered across and into the pastor’s arms. Maha looked exhausted and overwhelmed, but pleased that so many people wanted to be supportive.
With a few last words of care from the extraction team, Deanna, Steve, and Zainab took the mother and daughter to the Bergers’ home, which sits on five acres, with a river that winds through the back of the property, surrounded by the 43 acres of the church grounds and then several farms of over 200 acres, all very secluded and private.
That evening, Amenah seemed to be getting so little oxygen in her bloodstream that it was amazing she was functioning at all. Deanna and the Bergers wondered how she could even be con- scious. And she did pass out a couple of times that night. The mother would just splash water on her face. For the mother, that was kind of normal. That’s all she’d known for that child since she was born. So the mother wasn’t freaking out, but Steve and Sarah had to hold their emotions in check. They were scared, afraid that the little girl was going to die.
* * *
On January 24, 2008, at 11:00 a.m., Amenah arrived at the Monroe Carell Jr. Children’s Hospital at Vanderbilt for a chest X-ray and initial exam to diagnose her heart problem. She was very tired and cranky. Deanna knew Amenah had only gotten about three hours of sleep. Maha seemed tired too, but serene. Her daughter was finally going to get the kind of help she so desper- ately needed. Maha greeted all the new strangers with warmth. Her interpreter, though, told Deanna that Maha was afraid. She worried about Amenah and what could happen at the hospital. All along the way, mother and child were reassured through their interpreter that she would not experience anything painful today—they just wanted some special pictures to see what was wrong with Amenah’s heart.
With a few last words of care from the extraction team, Deanna, Steve, and Zainab took the mother and daughter to the Bergers’ home, which sits on five acres, with a river that winds through the back of the property, surrounded by the 43 acres of the church grounds and then several farms of over 200 acres, all very secluded and private.
That evening, Amenah seemed to be getting so little oxygen in her bloodstream that it was amazing she was functioning at all. Deanna and the Bergers wondered how she could even be con- scious. And she did pass out a couple of times that night. The mother would just splash water on her face. For the mother, that was kind of normal. That’s all she’d known for that child since she was born. So the mother wasn’t freaking out, but Steve and Sarah had to hold their emotions in check. They were scared, afraid that the little girl was going to die.
* * *
On January 24, 2008, at 11:00 a.m., Amenah arrived at the Monroe Carell Jr. Children’s Hospital at Vanderbilt for a chest X-ray and initial exam to diagnose her heart problem. She was very tired and cranky. Deanna knew Amenah had only gotten about three hours of sleep. Maha seemed tired too, but serene. Her daughter was finally going to get the kind of help she so desper- ately needed. Maha greeted all the new strangers with warmth. Her interpreter, though, told Deanna that Maha was afraid. She worried about Amenah and what could happen at the hospital. All along the way, mother and child were reassured through their interpreter that she would not experience anything painful today—they just wanted some special pictures to see what was wrong with Amenah’s heart.
In the Pediatric Cardiology Clinic, Dr. Karla Christian, after find- ing more complications and additional infections, especially did not like what she saw from the child’s first-ever chest X-ray. Her colleague, Dr. Thomas Doyle, and the staff performed an echocar- diogram. After the tests, Doyle called a medical interpreter together with the interpreter who had been working with the fam- ily and explained to Amenah’s mother what they’d found. Amenah’s heart was not only backward, but, in addition, the blood flow to her lungs was restricted and her major arteries were out of place. Because of the stress of travel, a fever she was running, and an oxygen level that was very low, they placed her in an intensive care unit. Steve and Sarah Berger, the host family, and Deanna Dolan made sure that Amenah and her mother got some culturally appropriate food and walked them to settle into their room in the main hospital.
Dr. Christian told the mother and those who had come with Amenah, “She will require a complex open heart surgery with sig- nificant risk.” They first had to get the child healthy enough for an operation. An aspect of the procedure they planned also took into consideration what kind of medical care the girl would get when she returned home. They would have to do everything they could to make sure she was as self-sustaining as possible.
Dr. Christian told the mother and those who had come with Amenah, “She will require a complex open heart surgery with sig- nificant risk.” They first had to get the child healthy enough for an operation. An aspect of the procedure they planned also took into consideration what kind of medical care the girl would get when she returned home. They would have to do everything they could to make sure she was as self-sustaining as possible.
In the week before her operation, Amenah lost her blue tinge and began to show a deep dimple in her right cheek that appeared when she giggled. She waved vigorously at visitors and said, “Bye,” or “Habebi,” which means sweetheart in Arabic. Her parted hair was in pigtails and she clutched her stuffed toy. She was in America. She was safe.
Amenah and her mother even got a preoperation visit by the Iraqi ambassador to the United States, Samir Sumaidaie, on Sunday, January 27. The ambassador is also from Haditha. He said that efforts like this are important, especially in times of war. “War is a cruel thing. Many families get destroyed or disrupted, but there are instances where lives are saved—many instances,” Sumaidaie said. He expressed his “appreciation to the American military that never miss a chance when it is possible to save lives.”
On February 11, Amenah was well enough for the operation. The Berger family arrived at 5:30 a.m. at the Children’s Hospital with their guests, Amenah and her mother. Amenah’s mother was very quiet, obviously feeling very anxious about the surgery, but Amenah, blissfully unaware at age two, hopped onto a trike and played until she was called back to a holding room to prepare for surgery.
By 7:00 a.m., surgeon Karla Christian, M.D., anesthesiologist Brian Donahue, M.D., and several other staff members had stopped in to explain the procedure to Amenah’s mother, through the interpreter Zainab. Amenah’s mother was also told what she could expect to see when she was allowed to visit Amenah in the recovery area in the Children’s Hospital’s Pediatric Critical Care Unit. She was told Amenah would still be asleep, would be on a ventilator, and would have several tubes and wires attached to various parts of her body, as is typical for any child undergoing open heart surgery.
Amenah and her mother even got a preoperation visit by the Iraqi ambassador to the United States, Samir Sumaidaie, on Sunday, January 27. The ambassador is also from Haditha. He said that efforts like this are important, especially in times of war. “War is a cruel thing. Many families get destroyed or disrupted, but there are instances where lives are saved—many instances,” Sumaidaie said. He expressed his “appreciation to the American military that never miss a chance when it is possible to save lives.”
On February 11, Amenah was well enough for the operation. The Berger family arrived at 5:30 a.m. at the Children’s Hospital with their guests, Amenah and her mother. Amenah’s mother was very quiet, obviously feeling very anxious about the surgery, but Amenah, blissfully unaware at age two, hopped onto a trike and played until she was called back to a holding room to prepare for surgery.
By 7:00 a.m., surgeon Karla Christian, M.D., anesthesiologist Brian Donahue, M.D., and several other staff members had stopped in to explain the procedure to Amenah’s mother, through the interpreter Zainab. Amenah’s mother was also told what she could expect to see when she was allowed to visit Amenah in the recovery area in the Children’s Hospital’s Pediatric Critical Care Unit. She was told Amenah would still be asleep, would be on a ventilator, and would have several tubes and wires attached to various parts of her body, as is typical for any child undergoing open heart surgery.
Maha confided in Deanna, “Is she going to make it out alive from the surgery?” Several women from the church had come to sup- port Maha and Amenah, and Maha asked them if they would pray. They did. She relaxed and they kidded around, keeping Maha’s mind distracted.
As Dr. Doyle had put it, “Untreated, this will be a fatal condition in her young childhood.” They had to operate, and they did. Dr. Christian performed the operation, and, in effect, they had to reroute blood to her lungs. For the rest of her life, she will have only one pumping chamber instead of two. The logic was that she would be back in Iraq, where she could not get repeat attention. Doyle said, “It’s going to sustain her for the rest of her life in a vil- lage where she has little medical care or very little access to any medical personnel. That’s her only option.”
The operation was a success, and Amenah was put on a ventilator for several hours. After a critical 24 hours had passed after the sur- gery, the doctors announced they were optimistic Amenah would have a full recovery. Amenah was next taken to the Pediatric Critical Care Unit and soon weaned from the ventilator. By Wednesday morning, she was back to blowing kisses and waving at the nurses and staff who dropped by to check up on her.
It was not long before Amenah was well enough to return to the Bergers’ home where they had become one big family. Maha had her normal enough ups and downs, missing her culture and her family. They bought her all the food she needed to cook Iraqi meals. She would sit on the kitchen floor at Steve and Sarah’s house and cook, and teach Sarah how to cook. She even made her own yoghurt, which she stored in the refrigerator. Deanna said, “She wanted to go shopping a lot. And we would take her shopping.
As Dr. Doyle had put it, “Untreated, this will be a fatal condition in her young childhood.” They had to operate, and they did. Dr. Christian performed the operation, and, in effect, they had to reroute blood to her lungs. For the rest of her life, she will have only one pumping chamber instead of two. The logic was that she would be back in Iraq, where she could not get repeat attention. Doyle said, “It’s going to sustain her for the rest of her life in a vil- lage where she has little medical care or very little access to any medical personnel. That’s her only option.”
The operation was a success, and Amenah was put on a ventilator for several hours. After a critical 24 hours had passed after the sur- gery, the doctors announced they were optimistic Amenah would have a full recovery. Amenah was next taken to the Pediatric Critical Care Unit and soon weaned from the ventilator. By Wednesday morning, she was back to blowing kisses and waving at the nurses and staff who dropped by to check up on her.
It was not long before Amenah was well enough to return to the Bergers’ home where they had become one big family. Maha had her normal enough ups and downs, missing her culture and her family. They bought her all the food she needed to cook Iraqi meals. She would sit on the kitchen floor at Steve and Sarah’s house and cook, and teach Sarah how to cook. She even made her own yoghurt, which she stored in the refrigerator. Deanna said, “She wanted to go shopping a lot. And we would take her shopping.
In fact, when she went back, I don’t think she could fit everything in her suitcase that she got.”
A little more than two weeks after her surgery, Amenah came back for a final checkup at the Children’s Hospital. Amenah had another echocardiogram, to make sure the blood flow in her heart was still running through the right pipes at the right rate—it was. Then Christian checked out the sound of her heart, checked out her scar for any signs of infections or problems, and found none.
Source: World Relief—Deanna Dolan (click here)
Figure 6 Deanna Dolan and Amenah
Little Amenah, Deanna noticed, turned out to be a ham, enjoying all the attention she was getting from the family, those at church, and the media. It tickled Deanna to see Amenah’s change from
being a fussy, lethargic little girl into one full of life, who was sunny and making jokes. She had a pair of tiny sneakers that would squeak every time she walked. At church, Pastor Steve would be preaching and everyone would hear a “squeak, squeak, squeak” and the whole church would crack up. They’d fallen in love with the little girl from across the world.
A little more than two weeks after her surgery, Amenah came back for a final checkup at the Children’s Hospital. Amenah had another echocardiogram, to make sure the blood flow in her heart was still running through the right pipes at the right rate—it was. Then Christian checked out the sound of her heart, checked out her scar for any signs of infections or problems, and found none.
Source: World Relief—Deanna Dolan (click here)
Figure 6 Deanna Dolan and Amenah
Little Amenah, Deanna noticed, turned out to be a ham, enjoying all the attention she was getting from the family, those at church, and the media. It tickled Deanna to see Amenah’s change from
being a fussy, lethargic little girl into one full of life, who was sunny and making jokes. She had a pair of tiny sneakers that would squeak every time she walked. At church, Pastor Steve would be preaching and everyone would hear a “squeak, squeak, squeak” and the whole church would crack up. They’d fallen in love with the little girl from across the world.
Source: World Relief—Deanna Dolan (click here)
Figure 7 Amenah getting around quite well after her operation.
The day when Amenah and Maha were to get on a plane with Kevin Jarrard’s wife Kelly to make the flight back to Jordan, Deanna said, “It was very emotional. Everybody was crying, even Steve and Sarah’s children were crying. Maha was crying. Maha grabbed Steve’s neck and wouldn’t let go. Now that’s unusual because her being a Muslim woman, she would normally not inter- act with a man that way. She really loved Pastor Steve.”
Then the plane lifted into the air over Nashville and flew away, tak- ing quite a few hearts tugging along with it.
* * *
On March 11, 2008, President George W. Bush landed in Air Force One at the Nashville airport and met Dr. Karla Christian. He had these words to say to the press about her. “This is Dr. Christian, Dr. Karla Christian, who really symbolizes the best of America. She and a team of hers have performed surgery on a little Iraqi girl who was discovered by United States Marines. People in Nashville raised the money for the family; they were supported by the Marines there in Iraq; some of the Marines raised money; and they sent this little girl, whose heart was ailing, to America, right here to Nashville. And Karla and her team healed the little girl and she’s back in Iraq. And the contrast couldn’t be more vivid. We got people in Iraq who murder the innocent to achieve their political objectives—and we’ve got Americans, who heal the broken hearts of little Iraqi girls. Ours is a compassionate nation that believes in the universality of freedom—and ours is a nation full of loving souls that when they find a stranger in need will lend their God- given talents to help that stranger. And that’s precisely what happened.”
* * *
Kelly Jarrard and Glenn Susskind flew with Amenah and her mother from Nashville back to Amman, Jordan. Then, for the last leg of the journey, from Amman to Baghdad, Kevin didn’t have a female able to accompany the mother and daughter. So, with the surgery successful and her coming home, he had to head back to the family for another powwow with the brothers, one he didn’t welcome, because the last one had nearly led to gunfire.
* * *
On March 11, 2008, President George W. Bush landed in Air Force One at the Nashville airport and met Dr. Karla Christian. He had these words to say to the press about her. “This is Dr. Christian, Dr. Karla Christian, who really symbolizes the best of America. She and a team of hers have performed surgery on a little Iraqi girl who was discovered by United States Marines. People in Nashville raised the money for the family; they were supported by the Marines there in Iraq; some of the Marines raised money; and they sent this little girl, whose heart was ailing, to America, right here to Nashville. And Karla and her team healed the little girl and she’s back in Iraq. And the contrast couldn’t be more vivid. We got people in Iraq who murder the innocent to achieve their political objectives—and we’ve got Americans, who heal the broken hearts of little Iraqi girls. Ours is a compassionate nation that believes in the universality of freedom—and ours is a nation full of loving souls that when they find a stranger in need will lend their God- given talents to help that stranger. And that’s precisely what happened.”
* * *
Kelly Jarrard and Glenn Susskind flew with Amenah and her mother from Nashville back to Amman, Jordan. Then, for the last leg of the journey, from Amman to Baghdad, Kevin didn’t have a female able to accompany the mother and daughter. So, with the surgery successful and her coming home, he had to head back to the family for another powwow with the brothers, one he didn’t welcome, because the last one had nearly led to gunfire.
He told them, “Listen. I have kept my word to you. I promised you that your sister Maha would not be dishonored. And I have her and Amenah in Amman, Jordan. But I do not have anyone who can fly with them from Amman to Baghdad. So you’ve got two options. They can stay in Amman, and I don’t have any way to care for them, or you can permit her to fly the last leg on a Royal Jordanian Airlines unescorted. We’ll fly her home from Baghdad.”
There was a hesitant moment, then they finally said, “Go ahead, proceed.”
Kevin knew he had done his very best to keep his word.
On March 7, Kevin picked up Amenah’s father, Alaa Thabit, and they grabbed a CH-53 helicopter down to the Marine base in west- ern Iraq, Al Asad. There they got onto a Marine aircraft, a C-130 to Baghdad, and landed in Baghdad. They were on the C-130, looking out the windows and saw the Royal Jordanian Airline plane land. Soon, a Blackwater truck came across the tarmac and Kevin and Alaa Thabit stepped out to greet a healthy, pretty, and far happier Amenah who shot across to dive into her father’s embrace. Kevin and Maha joined in what became a tearfully joyful group hug that went on until Kevin told Amenah, “Let’s get you home.”
In the late afternoon, with the sun setting over the Euphrates River Valley, the MV-22 Osprey that took them the final leg back to Haditha landed on a soccer field, once the center of civic life in the area and now a landing zone. A cheering crowd of Iraqis awaited them.
Source: Marines—Mark Lamelza (click here) top photo. Figure 8 Amenah and her mother on the way to Baghdad when heading home
There was a hesitant moment, then they finally said, “Go ahead, proceed.”
Kevin knew he had done his very best to keep his word.
On March 7, Kevin picked up Amenah’s father, Alaa Thabit, and they grabbed a CH-53 helicopter down to the Marine base in west- ern Iraq, Al Asad. There they got onto a Marine aircraft, a C-130 to Baghdad, and landed in Baghdad. They were on the C-130, looking out the windows and saw the Royal Jordanian Airline plane land. Soon, a Blackwater truck came across the tarmac and Kevin and Alaa Thabit stepped out to greet a healthy, pretty, and far happier Amenah who shot across to dive into her father’s embrace. Kevin and Maha joined in what became a tearfully joyful group hug that went on until Kevin told Amenah, “Let’s get you home.”
In the late afternoon, with the sun setting over the Euphrates River Valley, the MV-22 Osprey that took them the final leg back to Haditha landed on a soccer field, once the center of civic life in the area and now a landing zone. A cheering crowd of Iraqis awaited them.
Source: Marines—Mark Lamelza (click here) top photo. Figure 8 Amenah and her mother on the way to Baghdad when heading home
Source: Marines—Mark Lamelza Photo by Sergeant Shawn Coolman (click here) bottom photo. Figure 9 Amenah reunited with her father at Baghdad
Kevin was thinking again about how only two years before, the insurgents in Iraq had rounded up the officers of the police force the U.S. troops had supported and brought them to this same sta- dium and had them beheaded, then gave the order that anyone who touched the bodies would be subject to the death penalty. So, when a helicopter landed to a cheering crowd of Iraqis and little Amenah was carried off, clutching a pink bunny and being touched by her siblings, and the stadium was filled once again with joy, Kevin felt it was the perfect juxtaposition between the al Qaeda and America. Al Qaeda comes bringing death, tyranny, and terror, whereas the United States comes bringing life and liberty.
He let Amenah and Maha and Alaa Thabit go on their own back to the vehicle, and he spent a moment just soaking in the scene. Back at the family’s little home just north of town, where Amenah’s story had started for him, some of the Iraqi businessmen in town had put together a huge feast with tents and celebrations and all the rest, and they all spent the rest of that night really soaking in all that had transpired.
Could he have done it alone? No, he admits. “Every one of those decisions that was made was the result of the totality of my experi- ences throughout everything that had happened to me up to that point in my life,” he said. “There were many people without whose efforts at any given point this operation would have fallen apart. So, certainly the situation was much bigger than me. I was privi- leged to play some small part and be glad for that.” As Kevin Jarrard put it to all of them, “Words are inadequate to describe my thankfulness to all of you for your roles in this mission. If you have never previously witnessed a miracle—now you have. Semper Fidelis and God Bless.”
AMENAH’S STORY
Marines evacuate Iraqi toddler
Amenah, 2, from Iraq, is being treated at the Monroe Carell Jr. Children's Hospital at Vanderbilt. photo by Dana Johnson/Vanderbilt.
Amenah, 2, from Iraq, pictured with Dr. Thomas Doyle, Pediatric Cardiologist at the Monroe Carell Jr. Children's Hospital at Vanderbilt. (click here)
A 2-year-old Iraqi girl with a congenital heart defect, who has been evacuated to a Tennessee hospital by U.S. Marines in the Al Anbar province, was reported Friday to be awake but fighting a respiratory infection.
“She has had fever since she left home,” said Carole Bartoo, spokeswoman for the Monroe Carell Jr. Children’s Hospital at Vanderbilt in Nashville. “She’s been trying to play when she’s not cranky.”
The toddler named Amenah has a large hole in her heart and a severe obstruction between her heart and lungs, giving her the classic “blue baby” look around her lips and extremities, according to a hospital news release. Amenah’s heart is basically backwards in her chest and her large arteries are oriented abnormally, the hospital said.
“Untreated this will be a fatal condition in her young childhood,” said Dr. Thomas Doyle, a pediatric cardiologist in a statement released by the hospital on Friday.
With the help of Marines under the command of Camp Pendleton-based Regimental Combat Team 5, a whirlwind military effort got Amenah to Jordan on Tuesday and onward to Nashville.
The girl’s mother requested that the family’s last name not be released for fear of her relatives’ safety, the hospital said.
The headquarters element of RCT 5, which left Camp Pendleton earlier this month, assumed command of approximately 5,000 service members in the Al Anbar province assigned to various battalions from Marine Corps bases, including Camp Lejeune, N.C.
Marines operating in Al Anbar Province airlifted the young Haditha girl in desperate need of a life-saving surgery and her mother to the Jordanian border Tuesday, according a to U.S. Multi-National Forces-West press release. A team of medical professionals escorted them to Nashville on Wednesday.
Amenah was discovered by Marines assigned to the 3rd Battalion, 23rd Marines, which is now part of RCT 5, while on patrol in Haditha during their daily interaction with the populace, according to the press release.
The battalion surgeon diagnosed her condition and recognizing the gravity of the situation coordinated arrangements with doctors at the Nashville hospital, who agreed to perform the surgery at no cost to the family, according to U.S. Multi-National Forces-West.
The Marines, in conjunction with numerous government agencies, initiated an effort dubbed “Operation Amina,” to transport the girl and her mother stateside. The travel and related costs were financed by private donors, the release said.
The battalion raised $30,000 to fly them to the U.S. via Jordan with the assistance of a U.S. medical team and extensive cooperation from Blackwater Worldwide, the hospital said.
The Iraqi government backed the Marines’ effort with its unconditional support. And friends and family of Maj. Kevin Jarrard, who befriended Amenah’s family, in Nashville continue to help, the hospital said.
“It is hoped that the city of Haditha will have the facilities to diagnose and treat heart conditions of this nature at birth within 12 to 18 months,” said 1st Lt. Lawton King, a spokesman for the Pendleton-based 5th Marine Regiment in an e-mailed statement. “But in the meantime, the Marines are simply delighted they could be of assistance to Amina and her family.”
The Marines have elected to use the girl’s name as it’s spelled on her Haditha identification. The name on her passport is spelled Amenah, which is what the hospital is using.
“Amenah arrived safely (Wednesday night) through heroic efforts by the military and friends,”
Doyle said. “The assessment of her cardiac condition is on going.”
Doyle and Dr. Karla Christian examined Amenah on Thursday and determined that her heart problem is more complex than originally expected, the hospital said.
Because of the respiratory infection, fever and the stress of travel, the hospital will delay any surgery for at least a week. The toddler was on antibiotics and in the intensive care unit on Friday. She was awake and reportedly had improved since the day before. She will undergo an MRI and other heart examinations, the hospital said.
A team of pediatric heart specialists continues to assess her condition.
“We want to give her the same care any child here in the United States would get, but we also have to keep in mind the access to medical care she will have when she returns home,” said Christian. “She will require a complex open heart surgery with significant risk.”
Amenah is scheduled to return home one month after the surgery, military officials said.
“She has had fever since she left home,” said Carole Bartoo, spokeswoman for the Monroe Carell Jr. Children’s Hospital at Vanderbilt in Nashville. “She’s been trying to play when she’s not cranky.”
The toddler named Amenah has a large hole in her heart and a severe obstruction between her heart and lungs, giving her the classic “blue baby” look around her lips and extremities, according to a hospital news release. Amenah’s heart is basically backwards in her chest and her large arteries are oriented abnormally, the hospital said.
“Untreated this will be a fatal condition in her young childhood,” said Dr. Thomas Doyle, a pediatric cardiologist in a statement released by the hospital on Friday.
With the help of Marines under the command of Camp Pendleton-based Regimental Combat Team 5, a whirlwind military effort got Amenah to Jordan on Tuesday and onward to Nashville.
The girl’s mother requested that the family’s last name not be released for fear of her relatives’ safety, the hospital said.
The headquarters element of RCT 5, which left Camp Pendleton earlier this month, assumed command of approximately 5,000 service members in the Al Anbar province assigned to various battalions from Marine Corps bases, including Camp Lejeune, N.C.
Marines operating in Al Anbar Province airlifted the young Haditha girl in desperate need of a life-saving surgery and her mother to the Jordanian border Tuesday, according a to U.S. Multi-National Forces-West press release. A team of medical professionals escorted them to Nashville on Wednesday.
Amenah was discovered by Marines assigned to the 3rd Battalion, 23rd Marines, which is now part of RCT 5, while on patrol in Haditha during their daily interaction with the populace, according to the press release.
The battalion surgeon diagnosed her condition and recognizing the gravity of the situation coordinated arrangements with doctors at the Nashville hospital, who agreed to perform the surgery at no cost to the family, according to U.S. Multi-National Forces-West.
The Marines, in conjunction with numerous government agencies, initiated an effort dubbed “Operation Amina,” to transport the girl and her mother stateside. The travel and related costs were financed by private donors, the release said.
The battalion raised $30,000 to fly them to the U.S. via Jordan with the assistance of a U.S. medical team and extensive cooperation from Blackwater Worldwide, the hospital said.
The Iraqi government backed the Marines’ effort with its unconditional support. And friends and family of Maj. Kevin Jarrard, who befriended Amenah’s family, in Nashville continue to help, the hospital said.
“It is hoped that the city of Haditha will have the facilities to diagnose and treat heart conditions of this nature at birth within 12 to 18 months,” said 1st Lt. Lawton King, a spokesman for the Pendleton-based 5th Marine Regiment in an e-mailed statement. “But in the meantime, the Marines are simply delighted they could be of assistance to Amina and her family.”
The Marines have elected to use the girl’s name as it’s spelled on her Haditha identification. The name on her passport is spelled Amenah, which is what the hospital is using.
“Amenah arrived safely (Wednesday night) through heroic efforts by the military and friends,”
Doyle said. “The assessment of her cardiac condition is on going.”
Doyle and Dr. Karla Christian examined Amenah on Thursday and determined that her heart problem is more complex than originally expected, the hospital said.
Because of the respiratory infection, fever and the stress of travel, the hospital will delay any surgery for at least a week. The toddler was on antibiotics and in the intensive care unit on Friday. She was awake and reportedly had improved since the day before. She will undergo an MRI and other heart examinations, the hospital said.
A team of pediatric heart specialists continues to assess her condition.
“We want to give her the same care any child here in the United States would get, but we also have to keep in mind the access to medical care she will have when she returns home,” said Christian. “She will require a complex open heart surgery with significant risk.”
Amenah is scheduled to return home one month after the surgery, military officials said.
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