We mourn the passing of our cherished Marie Therese Damas.
“It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things.” ― Lemony Snicket, Horseradish: Bitter Truths You Can’t Avoid
BOUKAN NEWS, 10/21/2025 – Marie Therese Damas entered the world on February 8, 1938, in Port-Salut, a picturesque town located in southern Haiti. After a brief illness, she passed away peacefully on October 13, 2025, leaving to join her Lord and Savior. Just two years before her passing, she mourned the loss of her sister, Louise Owens.
In 1969, Marie married Sully Damas, who served as a police officer in Haiti. Together, they welcomed two children, Jourdain and Michele, into their lives. Marie devoted herself to nurturing her family, raising her children to become responsible and contributing to members of society.
About a decade ago, my wife Johanne first introduced me to Marie, who was already in her late seventies at the time. I immediately noticed the deep affection between them, as Johanne fondly referred to Marie as her “second mother.” Listening to Marie recount the experiences and memories she shared with Johanne, I quickly realized that she truly embraced a caring, maternal presence in my wife’s life. This was especially evident during Johanne’s illness, when she described how, every time she woke, Marie was there by her side, offering comfort and nourishment.
From the moment I met Marie, she welcomed me as though we had been friends for years, which allowed our bond to deepen quickly. In many ways, she reminded me of my own mother, Elza Noel, who passed away two years ago. What truly connected them was their shared spirit of generosity.
Whenever Marie invited me to her home in Philadelphia to assist her, she always tried to compensate me, but I would gently refuse, happy just to help. Eventually, she found another way to show her gratitude—by making donations to my wife’s foundation, the Dr. Johanne Louis Foundation (JLF), a gesture I could never turn down.
Around the same time, I met her daughter Michele, the light of the party, and never missed an opportunity to help JLF by donating clothes and other items for the underserved people. Finally, I become over the years a friend of the whole family.
Marie Therese Damas stood out as one of the few Haitians who continued to uphold the values of morality, generosity, kindness, solidarity, and Christianity, all at once. She truly embodied the traditional virtues of Haiti, the country she held so dear.
Our conversations often touched on the difficult circumstances facing Haiti. Marie would share stories from her life before she left the country in 1963, reflecting on those memories while trying to make sense of what is happening there today. She would ask me questions about the current situation—questions I often could not answer. Even though my role as a journalist was to provide insight, our discussions would always circle back to shared feelings and heartfelt emotions about Haiti, rather than clear explanations.
During her quick sickness time, I met her son, Jourdain, a true gentleman and other family members while at the funeral. They seem all good God-fearing people.
At the age of 87, Marie Therese Damas departed this life, leaving behind a legacy of love and devotion. She was preceded in death by her beloved husband, Sully, as well as her brother, Eugene Lifleur, and her sister, Louise Owens. Marie is lovingly remembered by her brother, Roger, and his wife, Lelene; her children, Jourdain and his wife, Tammi, and Michele and her husband, James. She is also survived by her cherished grandchildren—Jourdain, Justin, Rachel, Millie, Avery, Trinity, and Xavier—along with numerous nieces, nephews, cousins, and dear friends who will forever hold her memory close.
