By Stuart Warner
I apparently upset a few Facebookers yesterday when I posted about the tragic death of 20-year-old Haitian Pierre Damas Bel in Springfield, Ohio.
“He FOLLOWED the rules,” I wrote. “He was legal.”
Several were quick to point out that Pierre remained in this country this summer after the Trump administration ended the Temporary Protected Status that had allowed Haitians like him to stay.
Was I wrong?
To paraphrase another president, Bill Clinton, it depends on what your definition of “was” is.
I used the word in the past tense. Pierre did nothing wrong when he came here. He followed the rules.
Pierre was born in Haiti, the oldest of three children. His parents left Haiti about three years before Pierre came to the United States. They bought a home in Springfield. Pierre remained behind in Haiti until 2024.
He came here at 18 to rejoin his family and continue his education.
But Pierre represents more than a grammatical argument to me.
I had no direct connection to him, but I came to know hundreds of children like him through the writing of Emily Troutman, an AOL News reporter I supervised for a year while she covered Haiti in the aftermath of the devastating Jan. 12, 2010, earthquake.
She wrote dozens of heartbreaking stories about displaced children surviving in unsanitary, makeshift communities, including this excerpt from six months after the earthquake:
“There are now more than 1,300 camps. They are filled with 700,000 tarps and 100,000 tents. They are tied up alongside 8,000 cubic yards of rubble and 190,000 destroyed houses. There are 1.5 million people, including half a million children, in the streets.”
Then she asked Haitians what they had been doing lately.
“Nou leve chak jou, epi nou chita.”
In Creole: We get up every day, and we sit back down.
Pierre would have been 4 or 5 years old then.
He had been getting up every day and doing his best since arriving in America.
On March 5, 2024, Pierre made an appointment through the government’s CBP One program. He presented himself at a port of entry in Brownsville, Texas. He was released into the U.S. while his immigration case proceeded.
He enrolled at Springfield High School, where he became a National Honor Society student, a varsity soccer player and a member of the Marine Corps JROTC. He earned a scholarship. He worked at a local Texas Roadhouse, where coworkers thought enough of him to write character letters for his immigration case.
After graduating from Springfield High in May, Pierre enrolled at Wright State University. He was studying neuroscience and intended to go to medical school. He hoped to continue playing soccer.
He followed the rules.
Then Washington changed them.
The Trump administration moved to terminate Haiti’s Temporary Protected Status. On June 25, the Supreme Court cleared the way. The protection ended July 27.
Two days later, ICE placed Pierre in its Alternatives to Detention program and fitted him with a GPS ankle monitor while his immigration case continued.
The next day, Pierre wrote publicly about his “shame and humiliation.” He said he had come to America for an education, not to commit crimes or hurt anyone.
His father later said Pierre felt he was being treated “like an animal.”
Pierre didn’t just complain about the monitor.
His father said Pierre made two trips to immigration offices asking officials to remove it. He worried about attending college wearing it. He worried about playing soccer.
His father said students ridiculed him because of the monitor. Wright State says it has no confirmed information about complaints or investigations involving bullying.
On Aug. 24, Pierre began classes at Wright State.
He had made it.
Neuroscience. College. Maybe medical school.
Eight days later, at 8:03 on the morning of Aug. 31, Pierre video-called his father and told him he wasn’t doing well mentally. His father told him to come home so they could talk.
Pierre parked his Toyota on the shoulder of Interstate 70.
He never made it home.
So I stand by what I wrote on Facebook.
Pierre was legal. He followed the rules.
Then the rules changed.
Now Pierre is past tense, too.
(Chat GPT-5.6 contributed to the research and editing of this column. It also created the illustration.)
I apparently upset a few Facebookers yesterday when I posted about the tragic death of 20-year-old Haitian Pierre Damas Bel in Springfield, Ohio.
“He FOLLOWED the rules,” I wrote. “He was legal.”
Several were quick to point out that Pierre remained in this country this summer after the Trump administration ended the Temporary Protected Status that had allowed Haitians like him to stay.
Was I wrong?
To paraphrase another president, Bill Clinton, it depends on what your definition of “was” is.
I used the word in the past tense. Pierre did nothing wrong when he came here. He followed the rules.
Pierre was born in Haiti, the oldest of three children. His parents left Haiti about three years before Pierre came to the United States. They bought a home in Springfield. Pierre remained behind in Haiti until 2024.
He came here at 18 to rejoin his family and continue his education.
But Pierre represents more than a grammatical argument to me.
I had no direct connection to him, but I came to know hundreds of children like him through the writing of Emily Troutman, an AOL News reporter I supervised for a year while she covered Haiti in the aftermath of the devastating Jan. 12, 2010, earthquake.
She wrote dozens of heartbreaking stories about displaced children surviving in unsanitary, makeshift communities, including this excerpt from six months after the earthquake:
“There are now more than 1,300 camps. They are filled with 700,000 tarps and 100,000 tents. They are tied up alongside 8,000 cubic yards of rubble and 190,000 destroyed houses. There are 1.5 million people, including half a million children, in the streets.”
Then she asked Haitians what they had been doing lately.
“Nou leve chak jou, epi nou chita.”
Creole translation: We get up every day, and we sit back down.
Pierre would have been 4 or 5 years old then.
He had been getting up every day and doing his best since arriving in America.
On March 5, 2024, Pierre made an appointment through the government’s CBP One program. He presented himself at a port of entry in Brownsville, Texas. He was released into the U.S. while his immigration case proceeded.
He enrolled at Springfield High School, where he became a National Honor Society student, a varsity soccer player and a member of the Marine Corps JROTC. He earned a scholarship. He worked at a local Texas Roadhouse, where coworkers thought enough of him to write character letters for his immigration case.
After graduating from Springfield High in May, Pierre enrolled at Wright State University. He was studying neuroscience and intended to go to medical school. He hoped to continue playing soccer.
He followed the rules.
Then Washington changed them.
The Trump administration moved to terminate Haiti’s Temporary Protected Status. On June 25, the Supreme Court cleared the way. The protection ended July 27.
Two days later, ICE placed Pierre in its Alternatives to Detention program and fitted him with a GPS ankle monitor while his immigration case continued.
The next day, Pierre wrote publicly about his “shame and humiliation.” He said he had come to America for an education, not to commit crimes or hurt anyone.
His father later said Pierre felt he was being treated “like an animal.”
Pierre didn’t just complain about the monitor.
His father said Pierre made two trips to immigration offices asking officials to remove it. He worried about attending college wearing it. He worried about playing soccer.
His father said students ridiculed him because of the monitor. Wright State says it has no confirmed information about complaints or investigations involving bullying.
On Aug. 24, Pierre began classes at Wright State.
He had made it. Neuroscience. College. Maybe medical school.
Eight days later, at 8:03 on the morning of Aug. 31, Pierre video-called his father and told him he wasn’t doing well mentally. His father told him to come home so they could talk.
Pierre parked his Toyota on the shoulder of Interstate 70.
He never made it home.
So I stand by what I wrote on Facebook.
Pierre was legal. He followed the rules.
Then the rules changed.
Now Pierre is past tense, too.
(Chat GPT-5.6 contributed to the research and editing of this column. It also created the illustration.)
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