Mitch Left Legacy of Generosity and Justice
By Kai T. HillA year's worth of rain poured down in five days.
Hurricane Mitch approaching Honduras on October 26, 1998. Image courtesy of NASA
October 1998 was supposed to bring the rainy season in Central America to a close. Migrant workers and small-scale farmers in the rolling green countryside were abuzz about November's harvest—the crops they live by. In the northern regions of Honduras, a tapestry of tall green corn, beans and other crops had almost reached maturity. Large groves of bananas, coconuts and oil palms were at their peak.
It could have been the harvest that the farming communities had hoped for. But as the end of October approached, a more daunting reality would strike. Weather reports of what would become the most treacherous storm in a century sent residents across Central America into a panic. Bearing thick sheets of rain, Hurricane Mitch barreled from the Atlantic Ocean with searing 180-mph wind gusts.
Hovering over Honduras for more than three days, the hurricane ripped through the northernmost coastal province of Colon. "Mitch would test residents' resolve and when it pummeled them, it pummeled them hard," recounts Catholic Relief Services' Doug Ryan, country representative for Honduras at the time. Ryan, like other staff, rushed to the aid of affected communities in the days following the storm.
Raging floods followed, then landslides that altered the population and landscape of communities within a day. Areas of Honduras and neighboring Nicaragua caught the brunt of damage, followed by Guatemala and El Salvador. The death toll climbed to more than 10,000. Damage to livelihoods, homes and crops was immense. Numerous bridges gave way under the storm's relentless blows. Even after the rains and floods ceased, landslides buried entire villages. Hardest hit were rural, mountain-dwelling families who had little to begin with.
Though Hurricane Mitch was 10 years ago, the storm will forever be etched in the minds of those who survived and the CRS staff who rushed to their aid. Mitch was a defining moment in Catholic Relief Services' approach to emergencies. It also touched off an unprecedented outpouring of donations from communities around the world, including parishes in the United States.
Today, CRS reflects on the resiliency of the people who found the courage to rebuild their lives and how the effects of this single storm inspired a new method for our disaster response throughout the world. This comprehensive approach includes saving lives, sustaining livelihoods and rebuilding civil society.
"It was the first time CRS looked at responding to an emergency through the 'justice lens,' " says Chris Tucker, who was CRS regional director for Latin America and the Caribbean at the time Mitch struck. Prior to Mitch, Tucker says, the agency's emergency responses were centered on immediate relief and recovery on the ground and fundraising in the United States.
"The impact of working through the social justice lens was that we were very mindful that without a broader perspective coming from justice, in some ways we could be rebuilding the poverty that existed before," Tucker explains.
A Region in Peril
Having worked in Central America since 1959, CRS has seen the region through many disasters, but none on the scale of Mitch.
Benicio Lopez, right, and CRS staff Jose Romero in front of the home CRS co-workers came together to build for Benecio after his was destroyed by Hurricane Mitch. Photo by Hilda M. Perez for CRS
"Mitch was exceptional," says Santos Palma, manager of agro-enterprise development programs with CRS Nicaragua. As part of a rescue mission, he took a fiberglass boat into low-lying areas in Northern Chinandega, Nicaragua. "When Mitch struck it started with a loud sound, like a thunderclap or an electric shock. It was a rain like none Chinandega had ever seen—persistent and with large raindrops. It was impressive to watch how quickly the water level rose. In less than an hour it swelled to at least 16 inches and overtook the sidewalks."
When the flooding started, Palma's thoughts immediately turned to low-lying communities around the Estero Real River, which is prone to flooding. "In some cases the rising water completely covered the rooftops of the area's small homes."
During Hurricane Mitch, he says, "each day we traveled over flooded roads or over the fences that divided property lines, navigating carefully so as to not hit drowned animals: livestock, pigs, dogs, birds, pets…. The smell was unbearable."
In Honduras, an estimated 75 inches of rain pounded the country.
Like many Hondurans, Benicio Lopez was caught off guard by the hurricane's force. Around 10 at night, the then 24-year-old who worked as a CRS security guard, heard the sound of wood snapping. Minutes later his home collapsed and was washed away by the racing floods.
"I never expected it, Mitch, to be that bad. There was little wind and it was just raining but not hard. I had no idea what was to come," says Benicio. "Luckily I had moved my wife Maria and two children earlier in the day to the CRS office in Tegucigalpa."
Walking into the Honduras office today, visitors are greeted by a large black binder with news clips from Mitch. Each rainy season conjures up memories among staff—as if it happened just yesterday.
"We were all shocked or surprised to see the damage that it caused," says Suyapa Hernandez, who has worked 20 years with CRS. She was at home watching the floods on the news and remembers seeing inmates jump from a prison's rooftop into high waters.
Along the northeast and southeast region of Guatemala, communities were inundated with floodwaters from the Atlantic and Pacific coasts. "The roads were closed so we had to look for alternative means to reach the communities," says Luis Alonso, a health program manager for CRS Guatemala. "When we arrived, people were living in the mud. They didn't have houses. I saw the children with baby bottles in the mud. That led to a problem with diarrhea, pneumonia and skin problems."
A Threefold Response
Mitch became a defining moment in CRS' disaster response.
The countries affected were among the poorest nations in the Western Hemisphere. Residents in the countryside often lived without running water, electricity or even a decent roof. In Honduras, these fragile wood homes are referred to as bajarecky. They may have a kitchen and a large room for a family with five to seven children. Sometimes small animals share the living space.
More than a month after Hurricane Mitch struck, floodwaters still had not receded in some areas of Honduras. Photo by Kim Burgo/CRS
To avoid rebuilding the circumstances that perpetuate poverty, CRS introduced a three-tiered approach to emergency response. The new approach, developed after Mitch, includes saving lives, sustaining livelihoods and rebuilding civil society. It begins with providing basic needs, such as food and hygiene supplies. Next is restoring people's means of earning income and, finally, building self-sufficiency.
"We wanted to go beyond relief and development to look at the structures that existed before Mitch that had kept those most affected in continuing poverty and vulnerability. We knew this would happen again unless relationships were fundamentally changed," explains Tucker. "We asked ourselves what relationships had the most impact on the poor and what we would have to do to make things better in the long run to have a more hopeful outcome."
Jed Hoffman, who in 1998 was the CRS country representative for Guatemala, says, "Mitch woke us up. It was time that we took a step back and devised a comprehensive plan." In 1999 Hoffman assumed Tucker's role as the agency's regional director for Latin America and the Caribbean region.
CRS' projects assisted 3 million people across El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras and Nicaragua. Activities were in the areas of agriculture, health, water and sanitation, and infrastructure upgrades such as wells, schools, community centers, roads and bridges. A child survival project in Nicaragua provided medicine that shielded children from infectious disease.
"After the hurricane we made a vow with the Church and communities that our first priority was to get the kids back in school and get some sense of normalcy restored in their lives," says Ryan about our response in Honduras. "We worked night and day on this—with committees to whom we gave the shovels to uncover classrooms buried in tons of mud."
According to Ryan, a new, self-sufficient society started with this work. "People discovered that the power of their own capacity to come together to make decisions together, to mobilize around the immediate cause—getting their kids back to school—could translate into a broader capacity to participate in the hundreds of other decisions affecting their lives."
Today, an estimated 1,200 emergency preparedness committees are active in the northeast and southeast regions of Guatemala. Equipping these community-based responders with simple tools has given them some control over their fate. When there's potential for flooding, residents are responsible for observing river tides and communicating by radio with other flood-prone communities. With adequate warning, residents are able to head to higher ground. Similar committees operate throughout Honduras, Nicaragua and El Salvador and have helped lessen the impact of storms.
This is one of the main differences between 1998 and today, says Hernandez. "Now people in the campo [countryside] are trained and prepared. They know who to call, they know where to go," she says.
Reconstruction was another major component of rebuilding. Oftentimes the structures that were destroyed were little more than a few pieces of wood nailed together, with a thatch roof. "If you are going to reconstruct houses you are not going to build the same houses they had," says Hoffman. "You are going to build back better."
Parishes and our local partners were key to helping CRS implement our new response plan. Generally, they have a finger on the pulse of the community's needs. In the storm's wake, it was the parish priests toting shovels and rallying people to dig out their neighbors' homes. "Working through our partners, these communities were organized and made important decisions about who in the community was most affected and what development activities were most critical," says Tucker.
Unprecedented U.S. Response
As always, CRS' ability to respond began with concerned Americans unwilling to let a disaster go unanswered. Hundreds of thousands of generous donors came forward with their support, concern and prayers.
"The proximity and immediacy of the plight of people in Central America, due to Hurricane Mitch, captivated the emotions of the North American people," wrote CRS President Ken Hackett in 2000. "This crisis sparked the desire of the American people to do something that would both help them fulfill their obligation to assist those in dire need, but also to reduce the vulnerability in the long term for these poor Central American nations."
Approximately $83 million was raised for Mitch. The response set a new benchmark for donations to a single disaster.
Kai T. Hill is an associate web producer for CRS. She works at the Baltimore headquarters. Jill Foley, CRS Hispanic outreach consultant, contributed to the reporting of this story.





