I used to work with a guy named Ronald.
He was the happiest guy in the world, always joking and getting away with hitting on customers and belting out island music. We nicknamed him BADADO (all caps: essential) because that’s what his songs sounded like to us. He thought that was hilarious and started calling everybody else BADADO too. Even when he was sad because he couldn’t see his kid after his ole lady left, he still greeted us by hollering “BADADOOOO!”
I remember one night it snowed as were closing the store. He’d never seen snow before and was taking pictures of everybody in the parking lot like we’d won something.
Last I recall, he was putting himself through tech school. Ronald’s from Haiti.
In the 1800s, the U.S. had a military policy called the Monroe Doctrine. Basically, the U.S. intended to protect the many smaller islands and nations in its hemisphere from European colonization. Sure, some people involved likely didn’t have the purest of intentions, but that’s beside the point — somewhere along the line, somebody realized that neighbors have to look out for the neighborhood.
Haiti’s in our neighborhood. If you live near us in Atlanta, for example, you live closer to Haiti than you do to anything past El Paso, Texas or northwest of Aspen, Colorado.
If you can text (and Lord knows you can text), then you can kick in. Text Haiti to 90999 to donate $10 to American Red Cross relief for Haiti.