Advertisement
YOU ARE HERE: LAT HomeCollectionsFeuds

Feud leaves Haiti hospital half built

Accusations fly between an archbishop and a televangelist.

February 16, 2008|Carol J. Williams | Times Staff Writer

CARREFOUR, HAITI — A multimillion-dollar building project involving a Haitian pastor and the Trinity Broadcasting Network has collapsed in recriminations, leaving behind a half-built hospital with a giant cross-shaped hole in one wall.

With $2.5 million already spent, work stopped almost two years ago on the first children's hospital in this slum of half a million people, when the partnership between Archbishop Joel Jeune of Haiti's Charismatic Church and Jan Crouch, the co-founder of the Costa Mesa-based TBN, turned bitter.

Jeune claims that Crouch erupted in anger when he told her that some Haitian boys who had been hired to guard the construction site reported that a TBN missionary had made homosexual advances.

TBN executives counter that the falling-out occurred when they confronted Jeune with their suspicions that he had siphoned off some of the Christian broadcaster's donations.

TBN lawyer John Casoria, who is also Crouch's nephew, denounced Jeune's report of sexual misconduct as "absolutely false." Jeune said TBN's claims of misuse of funds were baseless.

Now, the government of President Rene Preval has gotten involved, trying to see whether reconciliation can be fostered to resume construction.

Judging by the Haitian government's latest effort at mediation, a miracle might be needed.

Jeune showed up at the Haitian Foreign Affairs Ministry in late January with several fiery fellow preachers in tow. Casoria, flanked by his own bevy of brethren from the religious broadcasting empire, sat stonily in the reception room as Jeune and his entourage entered.

"I want to show my love for Jan Crouch and for my brother!" boomed Jeune, throwing an arm around Casoria and beaming into a camera wielded by TBN executive Dan York.

"You love Jan so much you rip her off? You steal money from her?" retorted Casoria, throwing off Jeune's embrace.

Incensed preachers shot off the sofas to protest the slight. They wagged fingers in the faces of TBN officials and shouted Creole curses on the visitors who had insulted their religious leader under a Haitian roof.

Government secretaries in high heels and snug skirt suits raised manicured hands in appeals for calm and Christian forgiveness.

The threat of fisticuffs subsided, until Casoria brandished a letter in which Jeune had written that he would "fight" TBN rather than turn over a single brick of his mission, accusing the archbishop of intimating violence. Jeune snatched the letter and tore it up, throwing the paper shreds in the lawyer's face.

Lee Variety, a Miami-based minister taking Jeune's side in the what-now negotiations, dragged the pastor out to a ministry balcony for a talking-to. A chastened Jeune returned and called off his fuming fellow ministers. Ties were straightened, necks stretched. Tousled hair was smoothed.

But if looks could kill, both delegations would have been dead before they were called into the conference room.

A united beginning

This cautionary tale along that road paved with good intentions began when Crouch and Jeune bonded in Christian unity during a visit more than 20 years ago by the televangelist, known for her pink wigs and heavy makeup. Crouch had "had a vision" about helping Haitian children after a baby died in her arms during her first visit to this country a few years earlier, said Casoria, the point man on the Haiti standoff.

"When I saw utterly poor children -- diseased, crippled, naked and, most of all, pathetically hungry boys and girls -- playing in gutters in the filthiest water I had ever seen, it was beyond comprehension," Crouch, who declined to comment for this report, said in an August 2005 news release. "My heart broke into a million pieces. I just knew immediately that something had to be done."

Jeune, head of the Charismatic Church, which has more than 250 parishes, 60 schools, a few orphanages and scattered shelters and clinics across this poorest country in the Americas, was already at work trying to interest foreign charities in bankrolling Carrefour's first children's hospital when Crouch proposed backing the venture.

Crouch; her husband, Paul; and son Paul Jr. oversee TBN, the world's largest religious broadcaster, beaming its programming to every country in the world. The far-flung television empire took in $188 million in 2004, the latest year for which public tax documents were available. About 70% of TBN donations are for $50 or less, according to the network.

Donations rush in

Building plans were drafted in the late 1990s for the hospital, which was advertised as a 100-bed facility with an emergency room and surgical unit. Start-up funds began flowing to Jeune early this decade and swelled in 2003 and 2004 as TBN beseeched faithful viewers of its "Praise the Lord" program to give to the destitute children of Haiti.

Appeals by Jeune and images of the students and orphans in his care were aired to bolster the fundraising. About $2.5 million was sent for the hospital over five years, both sides say.

Advertisement
Los Angeles Times Articles
|
|
|