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The sun had set and the few light across the Haitian capital flicked amidst the drifting smoke of burning trash. A few dogs barked in the distance and from my vantage point the city appeared quiet, though I know thousands upon thousands would spend yet another tough night on the streets and in the parks of Port-au-Prince. As I filed one of my online story for the night the messages began to come, people imploring me to investigate several orphanages and a collapsed school. Night had come and travel into those areas is not recommended. Besides, finding the locations in the dark of night within the crumble of Haiti is difficult at best.

As the sun rose across the crumbled city we were out the door, first stop Universite Caribe, a location I am told via Twitter has someone texting to be rescued. As we raced through the city and dodged trash, rubble, people and animals, we arrived at the building which now piled about a story high. It now resembled a rock pile more than a once three story building. The smell was unbearable. If you have ever smelled death, it cannot be explained and it cannot be escaped. We climbed through the rocks, sprinkled with books, papers and school supplies. A crew of three, we were neither equipped to dig, or trained to do so. We waited for a bit and decided to head for the orphanage….little did I know we would be back.

As you head south through the city the garbage began to pile. Pigs, chickens and even turkeys peck through the stench and water mixes with trash to flow through the streets and alleys with people walking and even selling food standing in this mess. Looking at this picture of pure sewer-like conditions, it is no wonder why aid workers are worried about the outbreak of disease. Even for a country that has dealt with so much poverty, this is horrific.

We arrive in an area called Fontamara, on the southern outskirts of the city, the area is intermixed with once middle class neighborhoods now rundown and metal shanty’s stacked on top of each other. The stream that runs through this area is intermixed with water, sewer and trash, yet people can be seen walking in the water. It is here we arrive at Foyer Notre Dame Nativite, our second request via friends on Twitter, Facebook and through e-mails.

What we find can only be described as heartbreak. For our crew, tears formed in every eye. The front of the two-story orphanage still stands…cracked and teetering on failure. Little clothes are pile don the pavement and covered in flies. Around back the entire rear of the building has collapsed into the stream and four men dig with picks and shovels trying to recover little bodies. Fifty-six kids and one caretaker are entombed here and the smell validates what we have been told. The men are from the neighborhood and dig to find the bodies, lay them to rest and rid the area of the smell. I cannot and will not look at what they have already found…it truly breaks my heart.

In the backyard of this orphanage and in the shadow of the collapse sit about 70 kids, the survivors of the quake. From babies to 10 year-olds, the kids now live on the lawn. Sheltered only by the trees and with only a tarp to lie on, they have received little help since the quake, but that all changed due to many of you. A medical team arrived minutes before us and was treating kids with cuts and even broken bones and one of their caretakers was feeding brown gravy-like porridge.

Here we meet Spence Nix working with Grace to the Nations and members of World Vision. Twitter and Facebook helped guide all of us here and Spencer bought the food now nourishing these kids. Spencer and a contingent from the Dominican Republic change bandages and disinfect cuts and scrapes. The kids cry in pain and in fear, I turn away only imagining what may be going through their minds. They have lived through horror, lost playmates who are dead just feet away and now their home is a tarp on a lawn. It tears all of our hearts watching. Gordon, one of our security agents does a hidden rock trick. We pass out toys sent by photographer Gregory’s family back in the states. The kids smile, giggle as I swing them through the air and then sing songs in creole and french welcoming us to their home….heartbreak.

As the day moves on UNICEF comes through and other volunteer groups show as well. Spence and the team moves on to a massive refugee camp up the hill and then onto other orphanages also without medical treatment and food since the quake last tuesday. He tells me that Twitter, Facebook and e-mail have given them tremendous leads and helps get much needed aid to those in need. Their job is daunting, saddening, yet rewarding.

The U.S. Navy also comes through with Chaplain Brian Shearer. He speaks with the kids and holds a private service, praying over the site and committing their souls to heaven. It is so incredibly sad and you can see the pain in the Chaplain’s face the heaviness in his heart. I ask him how he does it and he says it helps people move on and recover and the triumphs keep the sailors going.

We leave and visit yet another refugee camp in deplorable conditions, then as we head back to our office we get the word that rescue crews are now back at Universite Caribe. Again we find ourself racing through the city dodging everything imaginable, arriving on scene only to see the Puerto Rico Search and Rescue Team. These are the guys we flew in with about a week ago and they are still on the job digging through dangerous conditions hoping to find a miracle.

They too were notified over the web and when they arrived spray painted signs from two previous SRT teams said that no victims could be found. The team didn’t give in…and found four victims in the rubble. They also inserted sonar and heard movement that may have been tapping. There could be a number of explanations and it could mean that someone is alive. They dug for several hours then listened again. The tapping went away and their leader tells me he thinks someone may have still had life, but succumbed by dusk right before we returned. They have no way of knowing if there was really someone still living nine days after the quake and they have no way of knowing where the person could even be found amidst this massive mess.

This is just one day….my most recent here in Haiti. Tough for me who returns to shelter and semi comfort and I ache for so many I meet.