About Dr. Meringolo:
Dr. Robert Meringolo was born in Brooklyn, NY in 1944. After attending Poly Prep Country Day School, he matriculated at Brown University and earned a BA in Human Biology. Dr. Meringolo then earned his MD from Jefferson Medical College and pursued his first year of residency at Metropolitan Hospital in NYC. He was then commissioned and stationed at the Department of Health, Education, and Welfare in Washington DC before serving a one-year tour in Vietnam. In 1976, Dr. Meringolo returned to Providence and worked in private practice before joining Providence Cardiology and later Cardiovascular Associates of Rhode Island. During his career, he also served as a physician and as the medical director at the Rhode Island School of Design. Throughout his time in the medical field, Dr. Meringolo prioritized serving the uninsured population through volunteering at the Washington Free Clinic and Rhode Island Free Clinic.
After an illustrious and meaningful career serving the Providence community, Dr. Meringolo retired in 2017. He has since spent his time pursuing his passions in travel, exercise, and being with family.
An Unusual Adventure
By Dr. Robert Meringolo
When I was between my second and third year of medical school, my housemate and I were discussing how we might spend our summer vacation time. It so happened that one of my colleagues, who was a year ahead of us in school, had just come back from Haiti. He stated he had the most exciting experience of his medical career in a clinic in northern Haiti which hadno medical doctor but was staffed by Canadian nuns and nurses. The next year, several other medical students went to Haiti to work in that same clinic, returning with wonderful experiences to share and nothing but praise for the unique medical education they received. My housemate suggested that we go.
By this time, the interest in the program had grown to the point where other medical students had set up a committee to evaluate each of the students who wished to go to Haiti. Since my housemate was very high academically in the class, he was quickly selected to go. Thankfully, the selection committee recognized how well my housemate and I got along and agreed that we should go as a pair.
After immunizations were received, we booked and boarded a red-eye flight. We were outfitted in our Madras jackets and khaki slacks. The plane first landed in Puerto Rico and then continued on to Haiti in the morning. After we got there, we went to board a bus to bring us to our destination. The bus was completely full, but my housemates were able to get on, leaving me standing in the street. The driver left the bus, walked several yards, and found a piece of wood. He wedged the wood between his seat and the window and said, “Doctor please have a seat”. The level of respect he showed me demonstrated just how grateful everyone around me was to have medical help. Climbing onto the cramped bus with my arms mostly out the window, I braced myself for the 10-12 hour journey ahead of us.
We were off to Limbé, Haiti. At that time, it was the rainy season and there were large puddles in the unpaved road. A young boy on top of the bus would come down and go into the puddle to direct the driver as to whether he would need to circumnavigate it or if he could risk driving over it. Every 10 miles or so, the bus was boarded by the Tonton Macoute, armed secret police, that evaluated our papers. Only if they were satisfied, would they let us continue our trip. Ultimately, we made the trip in about 10 hours and we were to start at the clinic the next morning.
Our patient’s problems ranged from minor cuts and bruises to serious illnesses. We saw a case of neonatal tetanus in a patient who had fallen on a machete and had packed the wound with mud, and a young boy with a serious fracture. We had never set a fracture and had no X-ray equipment, but we did the best we could.
After several days we were told that the nuns at the clinic had a biennial retreat to another village where they would also have a party. As usual, on our trip to the other village, the secret police would board our bus to check our papers. We became used to this routine, beginning to relax and not fearing they would give us any problems.
After being in Haiti for one week, we realized our skills were not adequate to safely treat the patients we were assigned. We told the nurses that we wanted to return to the United States since we felt very uncomfortable in our caregiver roles. The next morning, we boarded the bus which would travel south to Port Au Prince. Again the secret police would board the bus to check our papers. It seemed to me that we were fairly lucky: the trip was only about 8 hours back to Port au Prince.
However, in Port au Prince we were once again confronted by the secret police. They asked to see our papers and our travel permits. We did not have the travel permits they now asked for; in fact, they were never issued to us! The officer who boarded the bus gave directions. At the time, we believed we were protected by the nun accompanying us on the bus back to the airport. To our surprise, however, the bus was now directed to go to the prison.
Once at the prison, we were demanded to exit the bus without the nun. They also forbade us from bringing our luggage, (though they did eventually return it to us). Even after being told to stay out of the prison, the nun insisted on defending us. She was our only advocate; in fact, she did the talking for the three of us. She explained to the officers that we had developed tuberculosis and were trying to return to the States to seek medical treatment. We believed then that we were out of danger. The officer behind the desk made a phone call and, suddenly, about ten guards came rushing downstairs. The officer unlocked a cabinet and they all proceeded to point their rifles at us from within the cell. At this point, I started to cough as if I really did have tuberculosis. Finally, the nun’s efforts convinced them and we did not have to remain in prison. Since it was a Friday night, the officer said we had to go to court on Monday and that we would be under house arrest until then. They would allow us to go to a hotel. I thought that was a good outcome; however, the nun explained to us that their plan was to find us and take us to prison in the middle of the night. We therefore spent the next night in an orphanage at the convent.
The next morning, we went straight to the American Embassy. All American embassies are protected by the US Marines. I had never been happier to see a Marine in my life! We explained what happened and he said he had to call someone in from the ambassadorial staff. A woman came in and listened to our story. She asked us what they had confiscated and we were not sure what she meant. So she verified that we had our passports and tourist cards. “Then, as far as anyone knows, you are just a tourist in Port Au Prince, and you have not traveled up north where a travel permit is required.” She then gave us the instructions: “take a night flight. Go by the back roads to the airport and give me the names of your next of kin.”
We spent the day – not in house arrest but with the nun – exploring Port Au Prince. That night we were taken by back roads to the airport. The nun again took charge and did all the talking on our behalf. She literally grabbed an airport attendant by the tie and said, “These are my friends, and they are leaving.” He stamped our passports and we waited for the plane. We thankfully flew to safety in Puerto Rico and spent the next 2-3 days recuperating there. Surprisingly, people there had heard about our stories. We did not know how that had happened, but people were buying us drinks and wanting to hear everything that had gone on. Eventually, we were able to fly back to the United States.
On the way back my colleague said to me, “Do you know what scared me most about that place?” I thought for a second and threw out the obvious possibilities. “The guns pointed at us?” “No,” he said almost instantly. “The fact that we almost went to prison?” He again said “No.” I gave up. What scared you most about that place?” I eagerly asked. “He said, “If I got sick, you’d be the only one there to take care of me.”