Freeport, Bahamas

Heart wrenching scenes of a sunny tropical paradise turned into muddy gray landscape of pain. I visited Freeport in October of 2017 and saw a place that was not flashy like Nassau. It didn’t have a new Starbucks like Balmoral. Freeport had a very distinct local feel with no fast food restaurants, no “American” stores, and just one small central mall that was run down. My mom described it as ”sad.”

Miles of Grand Bahama, the island where Freeport is located, consist of narrow stretches of road with thickets of scrub brush on one side and adolescent pine trees on the other that are all about six feet tall. These were planted after the island was hit twice in 2004 by Hurricane Frances and Hurricane Jeanne three weeks later.

A lot of the poverty I saw in 2017 was due to Hurricane Matthew which hit Freeport in 2016 as a Category 4. Windows of small houses were still boarded up. Blue tarps that are a signature of disaster remained where roofs should have been and I saw no houses that seemed structurally sound to survive or withstand 100 mph winds much less 200 mph.

But what I remember the most are the people and the beach.

Out of all of my travels, the people of Freeport were the most genuine with their help, their time, and their smiles. They had so little but they had authentic hearts.

I have had the tourist experience when locals treat you nice to get your money but this is not what Freeport was about.

Most businesses are locally run and the people seem to know each other so there was nobody running after tourists.

And the beach, Taino Beach, was still pristine. No litter.

Not yet ruined by humans…just peaceful and beautiful. Almost untouched.

Some of my favorite memories are from right there on that beach.

And that is what I am left with: the memories of the warm smiles of the people of Freeport and this peaceful paradise that may be lost forever.

Wynn Westmoreland