Mournful grey skies and a stillness broken only by the odd vehicle served as the perfect background for the devastation suffered by several families in the Portland Cottage community of south Clarendon on Thursday as they salvaged what was left of their homes, some of which were completely flattened and waterlogged during Hurricane Beryl’s rampage on Wednesday.

Scenes of complete despair greeted the Jamaica Observer news team some seven minutes after we entered the coastal area renown for fishing. The first casualties
— a family of seven dolefully surveying their home space.

The home
— which the Observer was told once sheltered seven individuals, inclusive of two toddlers
— stood fully open to the elements, all doors blown off except for the front door which remained in place. Several pieces of waterlogged furnishing and clothing piled in the front yard spoke volumes.

“We came out of the house and went down a other family members in the morning. Yesterday evening when we come look, all a it look like this,” one young woman explained.

Asked what the recourse was now, a male occupant replied, “We’re not even sure; even one side we want to try to put on back for the kids to go inside.”

A place of refuge, he said, was necessary for the two toddlers who, blissfully unaware of the challenges facing the adults, played with each other, their laughter the only merry sound.

“Water inna di yard and mosquito soon come out and the flying bullfrog dem; mi woulda want yuh see one a dem,” he further offered.

The family members, who told the Observer that they had occupied the premises for the past six years, said that they were awaiting the delivery of nails they had sent to purchase so they could begin replacing the sheets of zinc they were able salvage for the roofing.

Several feet away an elderly man, a bag of tools by his side, dug through the rubble of what used to be a shop that was attached to a sprawling home now entirely roofless.

He explained that the owners of the premises were abroad and he was simply trying to clear a path to his home as the rubble from the shop had blocked the track which was once there.

Another male senior citizen, on seeing the news team, stopped long enough to confide, “Mi have a nine bedroom round dah side deh, all of it lift right up, six a wi live in deh”.

“Mi nuh know how wi a go manage,” he said with a sigh.

A stone’s throw from that scene sat two men commiserating over drinks at what was left of one of them’s house and bar.

The 58-year-old owner, gesturing to his outhouse, which was the sole sound building of the three that once graced his property, said: “See it deh, Beryl don’t response fi me.”

Leaning against the counter
— the sole furnishing left of what was once his bar
— he motioned towards the shambles of his livelihood only now graced by a mini refrigerator from which Beryl had ripped the door and the two stools on which he and his friend perched.

Peering at his roofless, windowless house behind the bar, he said, “Mi sell every little thing, it catch mi off-guard, mi never get to pack.”

The villager, who confessed that he had suffered damage in past storms, told the
Observer that he had no other options.

“Yuh can’t do no better, yuh just have to start over again. A one thing stand up fi mi, and a mi restroom, and mi did lately build it. Mi bed and everything inna mi house wet up; mi nuh know a when this a come back to. Whole a last night I don’t sleep, a from yesterday I eat.

“Phone dem lock off, no light, wi can’t get nuh call. Mi a look some zinc and a fridge fi start back mi business, do suppen fi mi nuh Observer,” he ended his litany of woes.

Not much differed several feet away, where one elderly woman stood mournfully by her son’s one-bedroom home which had been flattened, leaving only one dining chair upright.

“Furniture and everything gone. He is in Montego Bay, we don’t have any phone signal, no light, so we can´t even tell him. My house now, the roof still on, but water coming in,” she said.

The devastation, however, she said, is not a novelty.

“Three times this happen
— [hurricanes] Ivan, Dean, and now Beryl. The only thing we don’t get this time is the heavy sea surge, but in Ivan and Dean, heavy sea surge, house wash out, furniture wash outta house, and all that,” she reminisced.

The hardy residents all displayed some amount of cynicism when asked which quarters they would be seeking assistance from.

“All now wi don’t see councillor or Member of Parliament,” one elderly citizen muttered.

“Mi say him gonna drive pass as normal and stop where they want to stop because they have location where they stop,” her friend prophesied sceptically in reply.

“Inna Dean and Ivan mi don’t have no bed, no dresser, nutten. So, this time if is even one bed I try secure, so mi have a bed afta all a dis,” one 68-year-old said.

Member of Parliament Pearnel Charles Junior, into whose Clarendon South Eastern constituency the community is located, was seen driving through with a small entourage. Charles Junior spoke with the Observer briefly saying that the purpose of his visit was to conduct a damage and needs assessment.

“We will be doing what’s possible to help,” the politician said.

Meanwhile, the neighbouring community of Rocky Point appeared to have fared much better than Portland Cottage with fewer houses missing roofs and still very much erect.

On Thursday, in making the journey from Kingston to Portland Cottage via Old Harbour, the Observer saw mainly downed trees, some uprooted partially blocking sections of the thoroughfare and numerous downed utility poles, particularly along the stretch leading to Lionel Town.