Tammy Thomas fulfilled her decades-long dream of becoming a nurse when her mother walked across the stage and attached a Clark College Nursing pin to her daughter’s lapel. Tammy was one of 29 nursing graduates celebrating completing their Registered Nurse education at Clark’s Nursing pinning ceremony on June 16 in Gaiser Student Center.  

The room was packed with families and friends—and so many babies, toddlers and young children—who had supported and cheered on their hard-working nursing students through the rigors of Clark’s program.  

During the ceremony, Ethan Cockerham received the Florence Nightingale Award, which is bestowed upon a graduate who has shown exceptional clinical performance. He spoke about how Clark’s nursing program is well respected throughout the region. When he first moved to the metro area to eventually attend nursing school, he was working as an emergency medical technician (EMT). At every hospital he walked into, he asked the staff which was the area’s best nursing program. Overwhelmingly, the answer was the same: Clark College.  

Ethan told his fellow nursing graduates: “We started at the height of COVID when it was chaotic and complicated with nursing strikes and vaccine refusals.” He added, “We’ve arrived! We have so much good to do in this world.” 

Angie Bailey, Nursing faculty department chair, explained that the Nursing graduates already have applied for licensure in the state they want to work in. They have one final step to take to earn an “RN” after their name. They must pass a rigorous exam, the National Council Licensure Examination, or NCLEX-RN. It is a nationwide examination for the licensing of nurses in the U.S., Canada, and Australia. 

Standing in the back of the room, she nodded toward the stage where the 29 new nurses sat and said, “Our students are phenomenal.”  

In turn, each graduate stood and was pinned by someone who was important in their journey to become a nurse.  

• Emilio Gomez was pinned by his wife, an ER nurse, with the help of their two children. 
• Janey Hume was pinned by her sister, Esther, a former graduate of Clark’s RN program. 
• Miriah Mallory was pinned by her husband, who held their baby. She had become pregnant and given birth while completing the nursing program. 
• Tammy Thomas was pinned by her mother, a nurse and nursing professor. 

Tammy’s nursing story 

Tammy always wanted to be a nurse because her mother, Linda Rose, was a nurse. After graduating from high school, Tammy enrolled in a nursing program at a community college in California, but life got in the way. With only two classes to go, she became pregnant. After her daughter was born, Tammy finished her general associate degree in 2000, but she had to put nursing school on hold to raise her daughter.  

Tammy said, “I worked as a human resources manager for 16 years while I was raising my daughter, but I was always thinking about nursing.” 

Tammy watched her mother’s fulfilling nursing career, which included working at Oregon Health Sciences University and then becoming a nursing professor at Concordia University. 

Meanwhile, Tammy’s daughter, Daryl Hogan, grew up, went to nursing school and is an oncology nurse. She is earning a master’s degree so that she can become a nursing professor just like her grandmother. 

Now inspired by both her mother and her daughter, Tammy decided to return to college to fulfill her lifelong dream of becoming a nurse.  

She said, “I chose Clark because it has one of the best and most prestigious nursing programs around.”  

At age 52, Tammy graduated with an AA in Nursing DTA/MRP, and next will take her exam to become a Registered Nurse. Tammy is not planning on stopping there. She plans to earn her bachelor’s degree and to work in neonatal intensive care (NICU) or women’s health.  

In earning her nursing degree, Tammy joins her mother and daughter and completes their three-generation nursing family. 

“It’s been quite the journey,” Tammy said. “I have learned that I have the perseverance and courage to follow my dream,” Tammy said. “My advice to students: Don’t give up on your dreams. Believe in yourself. It doesn’t matter how old you are. Just set a goal to do what you love, believe in yourself, and take that first step. Then the next.”  

Then all 29 nurses stood and recited the Nightingale Pledge, pledging to uphold certain ethics and standards within their profession. It is a modified version of the Hippocratic Oath for doctors.  

Many of these nursing graduates have transferred to Washington State University Vancouver and will begin working toward their bachelor’s degrees in the fall. There is a seamless transition between the two schools and their nursing programs. 

History of Nursing at Clark

• First pinning ceremony: 1962 
• Number of total nursing graduates: 4,351 
• Number of nursing classes graduating: 144 

Nursing Pledge 

In full knowledge and understanding, I promise to care for the sick with all of the skill and understanding I possess, without regards to race, creed, color, politics, or social status, sparing no effort to preserve quality of life, alleviate suffering, and promote health. I will respect at all times the dignity and beliefs of the patients under my care, holding in confidence all personal information entrusted to me, and refraining from any action which may endanger life or health. I will endeavor to keep my professional knowledge and skills at the highest level and give loyal support and cooperation to all members of the health care team. I will do my utmost to honor the international code of ethics applied to nursing and uphold the integrity of the nurse.  

Photos: Clark College/Susan Parrish

Nursing professor Dianne Lucia was granted tenure during the Clark College Board of Trustees meeting on December 8.

Tenure is awarded by the college’s Board of Trustees to faculty based on professional excellence and outstanding abilities in their disciplines. The granting of tenure is based on the recommendations of tenure review committees to the vice president of instruction, which are then forwarded to the president, who presents a final recommendation to the Board of Trustees. Recommendations are based on self-evaluations, tenure review committee evaluations, student evaluations, supervisory evaluations, and peer evaluations. The final decision to award or withhold tenure rests with the Board of Trustees.

Lucia will be honored at the 2022 tenure reception on May 25.

About Dianne Lucia

Dianne Lucia earned her Bachelor of Science in Nursing degree from Portland State University and her Master of Science in Nursing degree from Western Governors University. Additionally, she earned a Certification in Healthcare simulation from Boise State University in 2021. She has work experience in orthopedics, pediatric, and labor and delivery nursing at many local healthcare facilities including Providence Medical Center, Doernbecher Children’s Hospital, Southwest Washington Medical Center, PeaceHealth Southwest Washington, and Legacy Salmon Creek.

A resident of Vancouver, Lucia first joined the faculty of Clark College as an adjunct professor in 2005. She began teaching full-time in 2015. At the college, she oversees the program’s state-of-the-art simulation lab, a teaching tool that has had even greater importance during the COVID-19 pandemic when students had difficulty getting hands-on practice in clinical settings.

“I believe the most important role I have as a teacher is to promote a safe learning environment,” said Lucia. “I believe that experiential active learning is the most effective teaching approach. Simulation remains one of my favorite teaching strategies because it improves critical thinking through reflective learning.”

About a month ago, Kathleen Fockler was on the way to a Beaverton testing facility to sit for the National Council Licensure Examination (NCLEX), the exam each nursing student must pass before officially becoming a Registered Nurse.

She was ready. It had taken her 20 years to reach this point, but she felt confident that the rigorous coursework of the Clark College Nursing Program had prepared her for the exam. Finally, after years of struggle, she was going to achieve her long-held dream of becoming a nurse.

And then her car broke down.

In the middle of the Route 26 tunnel.

During morning rush hour.

It could have been a disaster. But Kathleen Fockler, age 47, is not someone to submit to defeat. When the tow truck arrived, she persuaded the driver to take both her car and herself to the testing site. She had driven there the week before just to be sure of the route—“I didn’t want to get lost,” she explains—so she was able to direct him there swiftly.

“I got there just a couple minutes after the exam began, and when I explained my situation, they let me go ahead and take the test,” Fockler recalls.

From the beginning, Fockler’s road to becoming a nurse has been beset by unexpected detours and daunting challenges. And each time, Fockler has been able to overcome these roadblocks with a combination of preparation, persistence, and support from those around her. During the 2015 Commencement ceremony, her persistence was rewarded when Clark College President Robert K. Knight announced that she was the recipient of this year’s Community College President’s Award in honor of Val Ogden. This scholarship provides full tuition and fees for two years to a Clark graduate completing their bachelor’s degree at Washington State University Vancouver.

“I still can’t believe it,” Fockler says. “This is an incredible opportunity. A door has just been opened right up for me.”

Fockler began taking pre-nursing courses at Clark in 1994. However, her plans were derailed when her then-newborn son, Gabe, began experiencing seizures and developmental delays. “The timing was not right,” Fockler says. She decided to leave school and concentrate on supporting her son and her daughter, MaKenzie, who was born three years after Gabe.

Fockler held onto her dream even while spending many years working as a paraprofessional assistant in the Evergreen School District Early Childhood Center, helping support children with developmental delays. It was only when Gabe entered Clark through the Running Start program that Fockler felt the time was right for her to return to school as well.

At first, the experience of returning to school after 20 years was intimidating. Courses required online registration—Fockler didn’t even own a computer. But she quickly found the support she needed at Clark.

“The resources that Clark has are tremendous,” she says. “There’s a math lab, there are computer labs, there’s a retention specialist in the nursing department. There’s just so much in place to help the student.”

Fockler is quick to point out another resource that helped her on her journey: the college’s scholarships office. “When I applied to nursing school, I thought, ‘How am I going to do this?’” she recalls. “At the time, I was working two jobs, and I’d heard how demanding the nursing curriculum was.”

But Clark’s scholarship specialists quickly went into action, finding Fockler potential scholarship opportunities and encouraging her to apply. “[Outreach/Scholarship Coordinator] Lizette Drennan was like my cheerleader,” she recalls. “There was a postcard of the scholarship staff that I found, and I stuck it in my binder to remind me about the people who were supporting me. I had a picture of my family, and Lizette’s smiling face.”

Fockler also found support from the nursing faculty, who encouraged her to keep going. Fockler gained confidence after working in the program’s state-of-the-art simulation lab, which helped her develop clinical skills before she even began her internship.

That internship proved to be another challenge. From the beginning, Fockler had set her sights on becoming a pediatric nurse working with medically fragile children, a goal formed through her experiences sitting in hospitals with Gabe early on. But Clark’s nursing program had only one pediatric internship opening per cohort.

A faculty member suggested Fockler volunteer at the Center for Medically Fragile Children (CMFC) at Providence in Portland to gain experience. Clark didn’t have an internship partnership set up with the CMFC; these agreements are labor-intensive and highly competitive. But Fockler so impressed the CMFC staff as a volunteer that they decided to create an internship partnership for her. Now, Clark has a regular internship opening at the center.

Throughout her studies, Fockler has shown a tireless work ethic. She went over notes while waiting in her children’s doctor offices. She reviewed cranial nerves while sitting beside her mother’s hospital bed after a surgery. And when Fockler herself had to undergo thyroid surgery, she didn’t skip a class, deciding to simply attend the evening lecture rather than her standard morning one.

“Each day, I try to learn everything I can,” she says.

On top of all that, Fockler found time to regularly volunteer with the Evergreen School District, the CFMC, SHARE House, and the Student Nurse Association of Clark College.

Despite her talent and perseverance, however, Fockler knew there was another huge hurdle standing between herself and her goal. In order to work in a specialized hospital setting like the CMFC, Fockler would need to earn a Bachelor of Science in Nursing degree. Fockler—who lives in Vancouver with her children; husband, Bunnell; and mother-in-law, Beth LaViolette—has begun working with an in-home nursing care service for medically fragile children. Even so, she couldn’t see how she could afford university tuition for both herself and MaKenzie, who is entering the University of Washington in the fall. Receiving the Community College President’s Scholarship means her way is now clear to continue her education.

Fockler is effusive in her thanks to all the organizations who have provided scholarships to her, including the Clark College Foundation, Vancouver Rotary, and 40 et 8.

“I guess it really does take a village to raise a nurse,” says Fockler, who hopes one day to be able to fund her own nursing scholarship. “The community supported me tremendously, and working hard is my way of paying them back.”

Additional Scholarships

Through the support of the Clark College Foundation, two other finalists for the Community College President’s Scholarship were awarded $3,000 scholarships to continue their education. President Knight announced the scholarships to Julie Mercado and Melanie Brawley during the Commencement ceremony as well.

Photos: Clark College/Hannah Erickson (top) and Clark College/Jenny Shadley

 

Enrico “Rico” Selga is a well-known figure to many at Clark College. Either they recognize him from his time as a nursing student here during the 1990s, or they saw him receive the Clark College Foundation’s Outstanding Alumni Award in 2010, or they’ve ordered a latte from him at one of the two coffee kiosks he and his wife, Jennifer, run on Clark’s main campus. However, not everyone knows what he does with his “off” hours: For years, Selga has volunteered with the church-based nonprofit Medical Teams International in areas stricken by disaster or conflict. He’s done so much of this work that MTI now sends him as a “First in Team” member, tasked with scouting the area and organizing resources before the rest of the medical team arrives. When the Philippines were hit by Super Typhoon Haiyan on November 8, 2013–demolishing buildings and killing thousands of people–Selga, who is originally from the Philippines, was one of the first volunteers to land in the hard-hit town of Guiuan. We wrote about Selga’s trip to treat earthquake victims in Haiti in a previous issue of Clark 24/7; here, Selga describes his latest experience in his own words.

Looking from the small window of the Australian Air Force C-130 airplane one week after Super Typhoon Haiyan, the community of Guiuan looked like it had been bombed. Houses were flattened; trees were uprooted or snapped in half. Once I was on the ground, I could also see that all the vehicles were damaged and that the people were wet and dirty. Locals told me that some people had resorted to eating dogs for food, while others had looted stores for food or items to trade for food. Survivors created shelters from scraps of wood or tin. Others used tarpaulins or plastic bags. During the nights, the wind would blow so hard that the rain went sideways. It was impossible to stay dry, and the combination of wetness, hunger, and thirst made it close to impossible to sleep.

Under normal conditions, Guiuan is a tropical paradise, filled with picturesque white sand beaches perfect for surfing and diving. But Haiyan left nothing standing. Houses were demolished beyond repair. Hotels and resorts were reduced to sticks and rubble. Wells that normally provide safe drinking water were contaminated. Fallen trees and power lines made the streets unpassable by car.

The children walked around the community with their parents, checking on their neighbors. I could hear the children telling their parents that they were hungry and thirsty. I tried my best to hold back my tears because I too have a child. I knew that children ages 6 months to 2 years would be particularly vulnerable because there was no milk or safe water to drink. Inevitably, many of them would get sick or die from the conditions. I cannot imagine how helpless their parents must feel. I know that if the roles were reversed, I too would be looting and stealing.

Yet these same people who looted were the first ones to share their food. Food rations were scarce, but people still shared them with their neighbors. Despite the catastrophe people found ways to smile and laugh. It was beautiful to observe the people banding together to help each other. And then one of them helped me.

On my first day in Guiuan, I met Klaus Engesvoll, the man who became my savior and best friend. I was sitting on the bench at Viva grocery, which had become the relief center of the town. There was a long line outside the looted grocery for the only functional satellite phone available to call the outside world. People were given 60 seconds to talk to someone. Each person was given three chances to dial a phone number. If nobody answered on the other side, the person lost his turn. The free telephone service was available from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m., but lines started forming at 5 a.m. and the last calls were made after 9 p.m. Listening to the conversations was heart-breaking. One woman narrated the story of how she lost her husband and children. Another woman kept on repeating, “Food is so hard.” For 60 seconds all she could muster up to say was, “Food is so hard.” It was painful to hear their 60-second stories of tragedy, but the ability to share their stories gave them hope that soon help would arrive. The last caller of the day was Klaus. He called his sister in Norway. After his call, he invited me and my colleague to stay in his house.

Klaus came to the Philippines from Norway on a vacation many years ago. He never left. Eventually, he married Amy, with whom he has two children who speak four languages fluently. Klaus told me how his family and 60 other people were saved by hiding in the laundry room and garage of his house. He said that if the wind had blown for another hour, they too might not have survived–and that when they came out after the storm had passed, they did not know if anyone else had.

The day after the storm, Amy cooked all their food and shared it with their neighbors, a move typical of her and Klaus’s generosity. After knowing me for only a day, Klaus invited me to stay in his house, where he and his family shared their scant amount of relief goods, water, and food with me. This was uncomfortable for me because I was supposed to be there providing help to them. In the end, our team would not have been able to function without his hospitality and willingness to share everything with us.

Klaus and I spent 24 hours a day together, brainstorming and helping the people of Guiuan. We would go to bed at midnight and stare at the ceiling, waiting for daylight so we could start working again. I would get up from my cot at 5:30 in the morning to go to his room, where I would see him crammed in his bed with Amy and their children–his eyes open. He would turn to me, nod, and get up without waking his family.

Around us, everything was sopping wet. In the living room at least six of his neighbors slept on wet sofas. Some nights, there were three inches of water all over the house. His stairs looked like a waterfall with the rain coming down hard from the second floor, where the roof had been torn off by the storm. Debris filled his house. Mud and grass peppered the walls and ceiling.

The first priority of each day was to find water, food, medications, and gasoline. Without gas, we could not send Doctor Alan out to see the patients. Without water and food, we were finished. In a disaster-hit community it is difficult to find the most basic necessities. Klaus and I had to go around town scavenging from other international aid agencies and the local market. We also needed to find a tarpaulin to cover Klaus’s blown-off roof–with more volunteers arriving soon, we needed a place for them to stay.

Once, we spent the whole day just begging for one liter of gas–and got none. We spent countless hours networking at United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA) to procure gas and diesel. The diesel was important to keep our van moving. The van was by no means comfortable–it was missing a windshield and the engine had issues–but it was moving. I borrowed it from a neighbor on a handshake promise to pay him at a later date. This neighbor had three vans that at one point became shelter for 23 people.

On that same day, the first baby was born in a tent hospital run by Medecins Sans Frontieres (MSF). The crowd in the OCHA meeting clapped in jubilation. We had also scored enough tarpaulin to cover our house and one clinic. The tarpaulin was a gift from International Organization for Migration (IOM) and MSF. On this same day we also received a water filter from Guiuan Disaster Relief Coordination (GDRC). We could now filter enough water for 100 people daily for five years. It was a happy day for the community and for our organization. Klaus and I celebrated with a drink of rum, but neither Klaus nor I slept well because we both knew there was more work to be done.

The next day the carpenters worked at a feverish pace to finish putting tarpaulin on Klaus’s house. It was a dangerous job because the tarpaulin was slippery and any mistake would send them falling from a two-story house. Meanwhile, thanks to neighbors, the inside of his house was miraculously cleaned of wood, metal, and glass debris in five days.

There were other signs of hope that day–and new challenges. For the first week after the storm, there was no food for sale in the market. Almost two weeks later, on the Thursday that Klaus’s house got covered, the markets began selling more varied food again. Disappointingly, the prices for that food skyrocketed as more international aid workers (aka “rich foreigners”) arrived. The day before, we had bought a kilo of potatoes for $1.50; now a kilo cost $3.50. This is an unintended side effect of the arrival of the relief agencies, one felt most keenly by the locals. The average salary of an unskilled laborer is about $5 per day. I paid the men fixing the roof about $5 per day. I paid the foreman about $9 per day. These people cannot afford a 300-percent increase in food costs.

By Friday morning, we had welcomed 12 volunteer doctors, nurses, and paramedics. We were in full capacity to treat patients. Doctor Alan now had a complete team with him when he went out to the villages. Our team immediately went to work treating patients in Guiuan, Mercedes, and Salcedo. In one day, we were able to see more than 200 patients and provided them with essential medications.

My job with the ‘First In Team’ was finished. We had shelter, food, water, volunteers and clinics. This was good news, but my heart sank because it also meant that soon I would be sent back home. Klaus felt it too. He kept saying, “It will be strange without you, Rico.” For nearly two weeks, I had spent my days and nights with Klaus. He had an uncanny ability to make friends and get things done. I admired his strength and perseverance, growing to love him like a brother. I knew that he would give his life for me–as I would for him.

Before departing I asked Klaus, “What are you going to do after all of this is done?” He told me that he was not leaving, that Guiuan is forever his home. But then he added, “I do not know, Rico. For the first time in my life, I care only about others. I do not care what happens to me. I have never felt this way before. I will only leave if my children cannot go to school. If the schools are not rebuilt, I must return to Norway for my children.” I could see in his eyes that he is deeply worried. I felt guilty for leaving him and going home.

I believe in the power of dreams. It will triumph over adversity. Dreams have the power to transform despair into hope. Dreams keep us taking the next step forward. Dreams turn the impossible into reality. Today I dream of rebuilding a school. I have never rebuilt a school. This is a dream I cannot accomplish without help. I need a small miracle. Twenty-three years after evacuating my home in a US Air Force C-130 plane due to an earthquake, and after 13 years of volunteering in disaster-stricken and war-torn areas like Kosovo, Liberia, Uganda, and Haiti, I am needed now in the land of my bones, Philippines.

Photos: Rico and Jennifer Selga

On Jan. 13, the day after a magnitude 7.0 earthquake hit the island nation of Haiti just 16 miles outside of its capital, Port-au-Prince, Enrico “Rico” Selga received a call from Medical Teams International (MTI), a church-based nonprofit offering medical assistance to countries in need. Selga, a nurse, has volunteered with the group for about eight years and is on their “on call” list to respond to disasters right away. Immediately, Selga began preparing to leave for three weeks in Haiti–negotiating time off from work, gathering supplies, and squaring things away before his departure.

Nothing, however, could truly prepare him for the devastation he encountered when he arrived in Port-au-Prince on a United Nations plane. “You have to realize, after the earthquake 230,000 people died instantly,” he said. “But then there’s another half million homeless people, living in makeshift camps. They’re refugees inside their own country, living in tents, huts, cardboard boxes, most of them with just sheets to cover themselves. And we’re seeing 27 new camps start up a day. You can imagine the kind of chaos that brings.”

Selga is a familiar face at Clark College. After graduating from Mountain View High School in 1993, he attended Clark for two years, earning an Associate Degree in Nursing before transferring to WSU Vancouver to continue his education. With his wife, Jennifer, he owns the Coffee Lounge espresso stand in Foster Hall.

But while many Clarkers know Selga as an alumnus and a business owner, fewer know about Selga’s frequent trips–about one a year–to provide medical relief in some of the world’s most traumatized and impoverished nations. And fewer still realize what a toll his most recent trip to earthquake-stricken Haiti has taken on him and his fellow volunteers.

“I think the adjustment coming back is a lot harder than the adjustment you make going there,” he said during an interview just days after his return on March 1, pulling off his battered wire-frame glasses to rub his eyes wearily. “You always have a reverse culture shock. When you come back, everything’s hunky dory, people are walking around like nothing’s happened. And I–I just had my
soul shaken.”

Crowded together in unsanitary conditions and without access to clean drinking water, Haitians were easy prey for every kind of disease imaginable: malaria, fevers, diarrhea, infections. Additionally, even those who survived the earthquake often sustained serious injuries, and these were now becoming infected. And with the country’s infrastructure and medical institutions decimated by the quake, people had nowhere to go for treatment.

That’s where Selga came in. Working with a team of three other medical professionals, as well as with American and Nepalese military personnel to provide security, he set up a temporary clinic in one camp. “Instantly, you have a line of 200 to 300 people,” he says. “Even in the morning, it’s 85 degrees, totally humid, and people don’t care, they’re desperate for help.”

Selga and his teammates would work until it became too hot for them to function. Most of his colleagues got sick during their time in Haiti–either from heat stroke, dysentery, or plain exhaustion. “You get sick, and you just keep working,” Selga said. “You put yourself in a situation where people are suffering and you can help, and it becomes: Every second you don’t work, that’s people you could help, but aren’t.  You forget to eat. … Of course you get dehydrated. We had to start IVs on our own teammates.”

Back home, Jennifer Selga worried for her husband’s safety, but kept upbeat as she apprised Coffee Lounge customers of his work. Many patrons had learned about Selga’s trip when, just days before he left, a note on the Coffee Lounge tip jar explained that he would be donating all tips to Hatians. “Between Tuesday and Friday, we collected $200,” Jennifer Selga said.

That wasn’t the extent of Clarkers’ support. History professor Dr. Anita Fisher, who met Selga when he was part of Model UN as a student, mentioned the Haiti trip to the History Club, whose members quickly arranged a rummage sale to raise funds for Selga to take with him. Between the sale’s proceeds and Fisher’s own personal contribution, they were able to give Selga another $140, which he then distributed to Haitians personally when he got there.

Fisher has stayed in contact with Selga over the years. “He was a serious student,” she recalls. “He always did his work, and he was always interested in other people’s cultures. He was just a natural humanitarian–you just got that sense right from the beginning.”

Jennifer Selga said that she has grown accustomed to her husband’s giving away all his possessions on these trips–which, sure enough, he did before he left Haiti. “I’ve learned to give him presents for his car,” she said. “He can’t take his car with him.”

But Selga’s missions of mercy cost him more than just luggage. He’s taking unpaid leave, so he’s lost a month’s worth of salary. He comes home exhausted. And this time, he also lost something more precious than money or sleep: He lost a friend. One of Selga’s teammates, Issaquah nurse Matt Bouthillier, died of cardiac arrest on March 1, the day Selga flew out of Haiti.

“We heard about it when we touched down in Dallas,” Selga said. “I thought they were joking. I’d spent the whole last evening there with him, talking and laughing. … He looked healthy. It just happened so fast.”

Despite this grim reminder of the perils of his volunteer work, Selga doesn’t plan to quit anytime soon. In fact, he’s planning on returning to Haiti in the summer–and Fisher is considering going with him.

“There’s nothing that’s as rewarding as helping other people,” Selga said. “You could see it in the Haitians’ eyes, the gratitude; they didn’t have to say a word. They’re very gracious people, very kind and hospitable.”

Selga offered one last note of caution to people who might be tempted to forget about Haiti’s plight as it fades from the top of the news headlines. “This is the calm before the storm,” he warned. “The rainy season is coming, and people still don’t have shelter. You’re going to see a lot of people die.”

And somewhere in a tent, or a half-demolished church-turned-clinic, or a makeshift shelter in the middle of a refugee camp, Selga will be there, trying to stem the tide.

The photos accompanying this article were taken by Enrico Selga during his trip to Haiti. For those who would like to donate to Haiti relief efforts, Selga suggests choosing a “good charity that fits their values.” A good first step is to visit a site like Charity Navigator that rates charities’ effectiveness.