Anxious relatives worry and wait for word from family in quake-stricken Haiti

OTTAWA - After two anxious days, Alexandra Altime breathed a sigh of relief.
Her mother Jeanine called Thursday from Haiti to say she and Alexandra's sister had survived the powerful earthquake that turned the country upside-down.
"And she talked to me to say, 'I'm fine, I'm good, my daughter. The house has broken, but I'm good by the grace of God, I'm fine."'
But Altime, 32, who moved to Canada from Haiti last June, still hadn't heard from several other family members, including her father.
"I feel so sad. I can't explain how I feel. It's really, really bad," said the Montreal woman, who works in marketing.
"I can't even eat, I can't even sleep. It's very, very bad. I feel so sad to see what happened to my country."
Her mother phoned after a friend managed to make contact with Haiti and relay a message despite shattered communication networks.
Altime's mother had no other news. "It's very difficult to have contact with the rest of the family.
"I tried to call, but nothing, it's in vain. No answer, nothing," Altime said.
"I hope that God will protect them. It's all I can do, just pray and wait."
Family, friends and colleagues of Canadians missing in earthquake-ravaged Haiti still hope to hear that their loved ones are safe.
Word emerged Thursday that former Liberal MP Serge Marcil was found alive and sent off to Miami.
But the RCMP confirmed that Sgt. Mark Gallagher, who had been missing, was killed in the tremor. Another Mountie was still unaccounted for.
Parents in British Columbia meanwhile were urging the Canadian government to prioritize evacuating a group of high school students there to do humanitarian work.
The 17 students and seven adult chaperones arrived only 45 minutes before the disaster, fleeing from a Christian mission to sleep on buses the first night. While initial word was they were safe and had food, a couple of emails from the group Thursday said their situation was getting tenuous and they wanted to leave.
"The situation is escalating," said Norm Ouellet, speaking on behalf of parents from Mt. Sentinel Secondary in South Slocan. "These are kids. They're witnessing things that none of us should have to witness."
Ouellet said thousands of suffering Haitians are flocking to the place where students are staying, and they're afraid resources will run out soon.
School Superintendent Patricia Dooley says Foreign Affairs is aware of the group but couldn't say when officials will be in a position to retrieve them.
Marie Moreau was waiting in Ottawa along with husband Max for word about her sister Aimee and nephew Guerlin, who live in northern Port-au-Prince, as well as other relatives.
"We have been trying for over 48 hours, and we never get any contact with them," Max said while his wife, who is six months pregnant, took a nap.
"We have no idea where they are, if they're still alive or not.
"She has relatives in three different places and she has no idea about any one of them."
International Child Care Canada, one the largest and oldest aid agencies in Haiti, had heard nothing about the 400 Haitian staff that work in its Port-au-Prince hospital and provide health care at dozens of clinics throughout the country.
"We have no idea either how many of those have been damaged, and how many of our staff have been injured or killed. That's the worrying part," said Peter Montgomery, national director of the organization based in Markham, Ont.
"We don't even know whether the hospital is still standing.
"We're all very anxious. A lot of them are friends and colleagues. There's a lot of us here in Canada that have been down to Haiti many times, and we know these people, they're like brothers and sisters."
Attempts at contact have been futile, save one email from a director who said he's fine but has been unable to make it to the hosptal through rubble-strewn streets.
"We've tried everything. Cell phones don't work, the Internet's not working, we've tried skyping, everything, . . . we're getting no response.
"We've been trying for two days straight."
Gunson Morisseau of Ottawa last spoke to his mother Precia, who lives in Port-au-Prince, by phone just before the new year.
The truck driver hasn't heard anything since the quake. When he calls, the line just rings and rings.
"Other people told me they got a phone call, but me, I ain't got nothing from my mom.
"I can't reach anybody."
He's hoping somebody can check to see if her house is still standing, and if she's alive. "That's the scary thing now."
All Morisseau can do is worry and wait.
"That's the problem."