Mother's Day in Trou Sable

GONAIVES, Haiti -- On Wednesday and Thursday, as I walked through the the neighborhood and stumbled to exchange a few sentences of conversation with Creole-speaking residents, I started to notice a number of people -- especially teens -- wearing black ribbons.

Sunday, the 28th, is Mother's Day, I was told.

So? I asked. What do black ribbons have to do with Mother's Day?

They are worn by people whose mothers are dead.

Still, the people celebrate. Children came home from school Friday with class-made cards for their mothers. The fronts featured drawings of flowers colored by the child.

The first Mass this morning at Holy Family Church, celebrated by Father Gerard of Hands Together, was packed. It started at 6:30.

I arrived a few minutes late and had to stand outside, with about 50 other people. Most of the Mass -- with the exception of the two readings and the Gospel -- is sung. The choir is accompanied by two men playing drums with their hands. Choir practices take place throughout the week; they are a primary social gathering for parishioners.

At the end of Mass, several drawings were held to present winning mothers with gift baskets of household items that they can share with their families and stretch already thin budgets.

I felt like a Protestant -- and I mean that as a compliment to Protestants; Mass lasted two hours, twice as long as normal in the States.

People dress beautifully for Mass. It's like Easter or Christmas every week. Women wear skirts and brightly colored outfits. Children often wear their school uniforms, and some girls as old as 14 or 15 wear what appear to be First Communion or Confirmation dresses, their hair also done in matching ribbons.

After a small breakfast of bread and peanut butter, I took a nap here at the guest house. Though my stay in Haiti is coming quickly to and end, I arrive in Cincinnati on Thursday night, I am getting sad to leave.

Still, I sleep to escape. I am wearing out from the combination of the oppressive heat and nature of the neighborhood. The numerous burning charcoal fires can make breathing difficult. I have seen too many naked children with burns on various parts of their bodies, and though the vast majority of the people would never think of asking for anything, the pleas from the hungriest and poorest are heart-breaking.

Three times, women have told me they want me to take their baby to the United States with me because he or she otherwise would die. A fourth women on the street wanted to sell me her infant.

An elderly man with poor vision and a voice that sounded like he had throat cancer approached me twice today. He wore a dark blue baseball cap with the NFL emblem on the front. Talk about worlds colliding. He said he had not eaten in three days. I did not have any money -- U.S. or Haitian -- in my wallet, otherwise I would have given him some.

Food is scarce in the streets. I met for the final time this afternoon with my third of three families, and the woman of the house told me her children had not eaten since have ears of corn Friday night. Twice in the past week, I had given her small amounts of money. She and her sister are widows. Their brother is a widower. All three live in the same two-room house with their combined 10 children. The brother went back to the neighboring Dominican Republic this morning, where he has found work in the past. He left his 2-year-old daughter with the sisters. The older of the two sisters left with us and walked two kilometers in the other direction, to the main market on Rue Liberte, (Liberty Street). She sells chickens, live chickens, whose feet are tied together. Refrigerators do not exist for the poor, because of their price and infrequent spurts of electricity available in the slums. Poultry is sold live.

I have eaten some of the chicken during the past two. Meals, even here at the guest house, are scaled back. Portions are less than half a modest meal in the United States. You receive one small piece of chicken -- a malnourished leg, for example -- dark rice with black beans and cabbage. It is good. After dinner, if available, blended mango shakes are served. They're wonderfully cold.

Of course -- mercifully -- clean, safe drinking water is plentiful at the guest house. As is bread.

I've probably lost 5 or 6 pounds, through a combination of modest diet and the unrelenting heat and humidity. You never stop sweating. You move and you sweat. To my surprise, my night sleeping in the slum home of one of my three families was one my best. It was cooler and less humid, and the bugs were not as thick.

The people are so kind. So many of them are deep-thinking and intelligent, if not formally educated. I probably will not file again from Haiti. Monday will be spent touring more Hands Together sites -- a clinic, a hospital and orphanage-school. Tuesday, we will drive back to Port-au-Prince. On Wednesday, with founder Father Tom Hagan of Hands Together, I will visit many of the organization's projects in the Citi Soleil neighborhood. As gang violence and political instability drove some relief organizations out, Hands Together has stepped up its presence: The group enrolled 1,145 more students in its schools and increased massive feedings two twice a month.

I will be scheduling two Hands Together appeals at weekend Masses at two churches in the Columbus Diocese in July. I have much new information to share.

I will leave a piece of me here in Gonaives. Though I am looking forward to coming home, I plan to return at the same time next year. In the meantime, I have vowed to learn a good bit more Creole. The stories in the slums are intoxicating and, though surrounded by death and veiled in sadness, full of life.
-- Mark Curnutte

Of pride, nationalism and materialism

GONAIVES, Haiti -- Almost each morning at 8 o'clock, after they have been in school for an hour, the more than 1,000 students at Holy Family gather in the concrete yard.

They line up for morning prayer, read by two students through a megaphone. Then the students turn, stand at attention and robustly sing the Haitian national anthem as the flag is raised near the church. It is a sight almost paramilitary in its precision. Students, dressed in their uniforms, police each other into forming neat lines and showing respect.

Later in the day, I talked with a couple of students about their country. I simply asked how they felt about it: One woman said, "I would die for my country."

I was asked what I thought about the United States. I said that I, too, loved my country, though as I get older, I am less nationalistic than I was even 10 years ago. I said, after September 11, I had a profound regret that I never had served in the U.S. military; in the last hour, I had declined a Navy ROTC college scholarship coming out of high school. "My country has done much good, and I am grateful for the many opportunities I have had," I said. "But I think we can do more good and less harm because we have been so wildly blessed."

There's nothing like being out of the United States for a while to make an American examine the culture at home. I have a very difficult time reconciling how much I have as a white male American, well-educated and well-employed, when so many in my own country and the rest of the world have far less -- and, to be honest, the ones I see suffering the most do not have my skin color. As a Christian captivated by the Catholic teaching of social justice, I can't help but know I will be judged for what I have done with the many gifts I have received.

I know I was caught up on the treadmill of material possessions, some of it not by my choosing.

Beginning what I hope is just the second half of my life as a divorced father of three, I want to do a better job of showing my children that material wealth for the sake of itself is a ruse. It does not bring happiness or peace. Less truly is more. I think of the bumper sticker I see sometimes, but not frequently, in Cincinnati: "Live simply so others simply may live." Never have those words made so much sense to me than the past week.

I do not know how an American can not consider that our domination of the planet's natural resources does not affect the rest of the world. Why can we not see ourself more of a world citizen and less as the world's policeman? Is the everyday Iraqi citizen better off now than three years ago? I don't know.

I am spending my nights in a guest house adjacent to a school and my day's in the Trou Sable slum of Gonaives. I am sleeping tonight in the house -- one without electricity or plumbing -- with one of the slum families that befriended me. Their only condition was I have to be inside before dark, so they can lock their gate, and I can not leave before dawn.

As I look around, there is much natural beauty in the country. The rugged, tan-and-brown mountains that ring Gonaives contrast sharply with the blue sky. The sun sets slowly behind the mountains each night. Driving north from Port-au-Prince last week, I saw to my west the sky blend into the water in a single shade of pale blue, interrupted only by a sweep of white clouds.

There is a wealthy class in Haiti, but it is very small. A recent statistic I saw said that one percent of Haiti's population controls at least 50 percent of the nation's wealth.

My mind is darting from thought to thought, and I realize they seem disconnected.

Johnny is the father of six -- two of his eight children died as babies -- in one of the three families I have gotten to know well in the past eight days. Two of his children live in the countryside with his mother and help her farm. Johnny is a bricklayer, a mason by trade, a professional, literate, educated man who built his own three-room house. Yet he struggles each day to acquire enough food to provide his family with one meal. Four of his children and adult sister live with Johnny and his wife.

"The hardest thing is when one of the children says they are hungry," he said.

He also said, when asked about being a Haitian, "The rich are getting richer, and the poor are getting poorer."

I am living in the moment here. I think only about my children. What will I take with me from Haiti this time? Will my behavior change? I probably should not be thinking aloud in electronic print.

The normal cries of children sound more anguished here. I have seen no toys in the three homes I have been invited into -- though there are 10, five and four children living in those houses.

I can't help but internalize Johnny's words: I complain about so many things. I am hyper-competitive on the job.

I compare my attitude to the kindness I have witnessed and experienced among the poorest Haitians. One man, fortunate, he said, to have a well on his property, lets his neighbors come and go with as much water as they wish. His name his Fritz, and I will be his guest tonight.

Johnny said friends will lend him a few Haitian dollars (the exchange rate is about $7 Haitian for $1 U.S.), so he can buy some rice and cooking oil.

Very few people, even in the slum, have asked me for anything. Most have befriended me and polite greetings and smiles. Every now and then, a child or elderly person will say, "Blanc, you are my friend, I am hungry." Three times women have offered me their infants to take as I walk past. "Blanc, I have a baby for you."

For the most part, in a country where a series of governments have largely abandoned their people -- there are no public schools, for example; religious organizations, mostly the Catholic Church, fund education -- there is a great sense or order where there might only seem chaos. Even the poorest of the poor have great pride in their public appearance. Men wears shirts with collars and khaki pants -- with a belt, always a belt -- and leather shoes. There are few sneakers and jeans; 99 percent of the women would not be seen outside of their home in slacks or shorts. Skirts are the cultural norm.

There is change in the air, and it centers on the young, I have been told. National pride is discussed on the radio. Many young Haitians I have talked with say they are determined to attend college and become professionals -- doctors, nurses, teachers, engineers. Women are gaining more rights in Haitian society. For generations, women have largely served men, they say. Some older Haitian people have said, quietly, so as not to discourage the young, that they had great hopes, too, many years ago.

I greatly respect the people I have come to know here. My mind is filled with words and images. Perhaps my days are too consuming and full to be writing live without an editor.

-- Mark Curnutte

Walking through a Third World graveyard

GONAIVES, Haiti -- Well into my second visit to Haiti, I had totaled almost three weeks here and avoided even minor illness in a country where sanitation is a problem.

I spent part of Tuesday afternoon in the crowded Gonaives graveyard. Overgrown and strewn with trash, it was a maze of above-ground burial sites. With the help of a gravedigger, who was hauling a shovel and pick in a wheelbarrow, I found what I was looking for: Unmarked graves of children whose families can not afford to buy a headstone. These people are nameless and faceless in the eyes of much of the rest of the world, and death throws one last insult at them: they go to their rest anonynously, with no chance for their survivors to visit a grave.

On the way back to Holy Family School and guesthouse, about a two-kilometer walk, we stopped to buy two pouches of drinking water from a street vendor. The water was clean, but the pouch probably was not. In biting off the corner, I was exposed to some sort of bacteria.

The night was uncomfortable and seemingly endless. The unrelenting heat continues. Night brings little, if any, relief.

The streets are not paved. They are packed dirt which take black and gray colors from the many burning charcoal fires. Gonaives sits in a basin, much like Cincinnati, surrounded on three sides by mountains. The fourth side is on the sea. The haze from the fires and automobile exhaust create conditions that make breathing difficult.

I have spent a great deal of time in the past two days with a third family, headed by a widow with five children. Her husband, a driver, died of what she described as "the fever." Her sister also is widowed, and she lives there, too, with her four children. Then there is a younger brother, who has a 2-year-old daughter. The girl's mother died four months ago.

There are three adults and 10 children living in a two-room house. There are three beds. Many of the children sleep in assigned spots on the concrete floor.

Sunday unfolds in Haiti

GONAIVES, Haiti -- Sunday, despite the obvious economic disparity, unfolds in much the same way in Haiti as it does in the United States, at least how it used to in the United States.

The many Haitian people I talked with today are serious about keeping the Sabbath holy. They rest in the afternoon and say they reflect on the many blessings in their lives. The people with so few material possessions in this world seem to fill that internal space with faith.

I awoke in my room in the small guest house beside Holy Family Church and School. And I awoke to contrasting images.

Before I full opened my eyes, in the pre-dawn gray haze, I heard what I only can describe as angels singing. Two young women are in the first stage of a life-long commitment to become Sisters of Mercy. Elza, who is about to turn 20 and is from the Haitian city of St. Marc, has lived with Sister Vincenzina for four years. Elza has completed high school and is preparing to become a nurse and nun. Joana is 19 and from here in Gonaives. She is completing high school this year and has lived with Sister for three years. She wants to be an English teacher. Both of the women are likely headed to Brazil in the next few years to begin their official formation.

Each morning, at about 5:30, Elza and Joana begin the day by singing morning prayers in Creole. They sang softly and sweetly, only interrupted by the crowing of roosters throughout the neighborhood. A few minutes after 6 o'clock, the sound of a choir and with drums filled the air from the nearby church. Mass was about to begin.

Then I opened by eyes to start my day. Directly above my head, on the inside of the mosquito netting, I saw a 3-inch cockroach. I don't know how the cockroach got into the netting, and I don't want to know. I slowly rolled out of bed and put on my shoes (but not before turning them over and shaking them out to make sure no visitors took up residence in them overnight). Then I shook the netting and dislodged the cockroach; I kicked it outside, into the garden.

I attended Mass at 9 a.m. It was for the children. The music was beautiful, and the rhythm of the Mass is the same regardless of language; it transcends national borders. The familiarity and universal nature of the Mass are a great comfort.

Sister gave the sermon and told the children that today's gospel calls us to love one another. Love is action, not words, she said. And she discussed the life of a priest who worked with a lived among the sick and eventually died with them, declining his family's invitation to come home to die. She also talked about St. Maximillian Kolbe, who willingly gave his life in place of another person.

There is great humor, a sly wit, in the air that belies the suffocating poverty. The humor and sadness alternate in a whiplash effect. Going back and forth between the extremes can be tiring.
In a land where half of the children die before age 5, the construction of coffins is a lucrative business. A woodworking shop stands about half a kilometer down the dirt street from the church. I have walked past its opened door many times, and late Saturday afternoon I walked in with my interpreter, Augustin.

The basic model coffin sold for $6,000 Haitian, or about $850 U.S. A more elaborate one sold for $10,000 Haitian. There was an unfinished dining room table with four chairs in the back of the open-air shop, but it was clearn coffins were the top-seller.

I complimented a craftsman for his workmanship.

Then came the sense of humor.

"You would die to have one, right?" he asked me through Augustin.

I laughed and explained how he had touched on American English slang. "Americans say, `To die for' when they want something badly, like `I would die for that BMW' or `I would die for that pair of shoes,'" I said.

"So," the workman said, "this coffin is to die for?"

There, of course, is a serious side to all aspects of life here, but residents of the slums say they laugh as often as possible to avoid thinking about the harsh daily life and limited prospects for the future.

Father Gerard, the Haitian priest who now works for Hands Together and oversees its projects in the Gonaives area, said many families who lost loved ones in Hurricane Jeanne's flood waters in 2004, they grieved twice. In fact, he said, Haitians grieve twice for a loved one. They weep for the loss of life, and they weep because they are unable to buy a coffin for the deceased.

I spent almost eight hours on each of Friday and Saturday and another four hours today in the homes of two Haitian families that live in the Trou Sable slum. With their advance permission, I have done into great detail about their daily lives and backgrounds, hopes, dreams and fears. On Tuesday, the father, Johnny, in one of my families, will walk me an hour from his home to a large cemetary in Gonavies. Two of his children, who died at 10 months and 6 months, are buried there. He does not know exactly where they are buried, though. The graves are unmarked.

I often read and think about the profanely beautiful and profound words of James Agee, that seem even more true in Haiti: "Each is a new and incommunicably tender life, wounded in every breath ... sustaining, for a while, without defense, the enormous assaults of the universe."

I will meet a third family tomorrow and begin the process again.

I do know what to say, except, "merci," when people tell me their home is my home. I can't help but contrast their openness it to the words that ring so false and outdated now on the Statue of Liberty, "Give me your tired, your poor ... " When did my country begin to operate with fear as its guiding principle? I guess it comes as no surprise that a nation of gated communities and fierce economic segregation wants itself to become walled off from the rest of the world. Give us your cheap laborers, though, willing to work for poor wages and pay taxes but receive no health coverage.

Besides recording the lives of families in Trou Sable, I will visit more projects in the next 10 days in this area that are funded by the U.S.-based Catholic relief group Hands Together. I will go back south to the village of Brunette, where a third well has been dug in an attempt to fill a 125,000-gallon with a larger pipe and generator. The goal is to provide safe drinking water and irrigation on the barren landscape.

I also will travel to Ti Riviere, where a Hands Together-supported clinic dispenses free medicine as part of a nutrition program. Another visitor arrived Friday, from France. He is a volunteer with expertise in computers, and he is helping wire more sites in the diocese.

-- Mark Curnutte

Day 3 in Haiti

GONAIVES, Haiti -- Rainy season is late getting started. Many residents of this sea-side region in central Haiti aren't too fond of heavy rains these days, though the rains are becoming uncomfortably late. The people here, already some of the most impoverished and disenfranchised on earth, are still experiencing the economic aftereffects of Hurricane Jeanne in 2004.

Thursday, May 18 was Flag Day ("fet drabo," in Creole). It is a national holiday. On Wednesday, many children returning home from school at 1 p.m. carried red-and-blue Haitian flags on small sticks for informal parades on Thursday. School was out. It normally runs from 7 a.m.-1 p.m. to avoid the intense afternoon heat.

On Wednesday, while driving north from Port-au-Prince, I heard on the radio a discussion featuring a government official and a Haitian college professor. They were talking about the importance of young Haitians to have national pride and hope in a better future for their homeland.

Haiti remains the poorest nation in the Western Hemisphere. The per capita income barely exceeds $300 U.S. a year. Almost half of all Haitian children die before the age of five. I met and spent this morning with a Haitian family in the slums that has lost two of their eight children. Two of the older ones, teen-agers, are living in the countryside working a small farm with their grandparents. There is little work. Unemployment is 60 percent. The government has no regard for its people. One percent of the population controls more than half of the national wealth. There is a sense among the people that the rich are getting richer and the poor are getting poorer (sounds like the United States under the current administration, to a lesser degree).

I traveled Thursday to the east of Gonaives, about 70 kilometers, to the village and valley of Bassin. There, the Catholic relief group Hands Together has undertaken a six-year project that started with the contruction of a 25,000-gallon water cistern. It is filled by a pair of deep adjacent wells. Slim concrete canals run down the side of the mountain from the cistern to provide safe drinking water for residents and irrigation for crops. This section of the valley is greener and more fertile than the area around it. Coconut and mango trees are growing on the hills. Small crops of corn are sprouting. The bean crop will be planted again in November at the start of winter growing season.

Hands Together, in conjunction with the Catholic Diocese of Gonaives, purchased a used Ingersoll Rand well digger more than 10 years ago, and it has since dug several dozen safe-water wells throughout central Haiti.

Atop the hill, above the cistern, sits Hands Together's Aricultural and Environmental Center. Students and residents from all walks of live come from around the country to attend seminars that stress the importance of argiculture and greater ecological awareness. Increasing the number of trees and acres of green vegetation are important to reverse the generations-long trend of deforestastation. Less than 2 percent of Haiti's once lush forests remain, and the lack of ground covering contributed the fast-moving flood waters that engulfed Gonaives in 2004.

I am based at the Holy Family School in the Gonaives slum of Trou Sable. There are no public schools in Haiti. The only schools are funded by religious organizations, primarily the Catholic Church. The Diocese of Gonaives has 71 schools, all receiving aid from Hands Together for supplies and capital projects and to increase salaries of well-educated teaching staffs to a level that can sustain a family's basic needs.

-- Mark Curnutte

Hello from Gonaives, Haiti

I am sitting in a computer lab at Holy Family School in the slum of Trou Sable, in Gonaives, Haiti.

Internet access was an unexpected opportunity for me in Haiti. The school, which enrolls 1,100 students and is support by the American relief group Hands Together, has electricity thanks to a generator that will be shut down at 9 p.m. It has a nine-unit computer lab to teach students the basics.

There is no electricity in the surrounding neighborhood, save for a few homes with generators. Most of the homes are one or two rooms and made of cinder block and tin. The streets are mud and lined with garbage. Pigs, goats and chickens are almost as plentiful as the people.

The people could not be any more kind. Before dinner, I walked with my interpreter, Augustin, through the neighborhood. It's a humbling experience when children approach to rub the skin on your arm, because you're white, and they cry, "Blanc, blanc." It's as though touching the skin of a white American will bring them good luck. If they only knew the true nature of many white people and the history of oppression wrought by our race.

I am the guest of the Diocese of Gonaives. The school is run by a Sister of Mercy from Florence, Italy, Sister Vincenzina. She is teacher and in her eighth year in Haiti. She previously was assigned to Burundi and Rwanda and witnessed the genocide in Rwanda. She said she still today cannot speak of what she saw. She is a true hero and wonderful face of the Catholic Church and has selflessly devoted herself of serving the least among us throughout the world.

Gonaives is the city in the heart of a sea-side region hit hard by Hurricane Jeanne in 2004. More than 3,000 people died when rain poured for several days, the sea rose and water rolled down from the arid mountains. A lake three kilometers square still exists outside Gonaives where there once was only sand and rock.

On Thursday, I will begin monitoring development projects funded by the group Hands Together. I will visit schools, medical clinics, construction sites and agricultural and far-reaching water projects. I also will spend a great deal of time with three families here in the Trou Sable.

Because this is a football blog, I feel compelled to tell you that very few people in Haiti are interested in American football. Soccer is king, followed by basketball, and the favorite team is the Brazilian nationals. Radios were screaming today with play-by-play (in Creole, of course) of the Barcelona soccer game.

I did see four signs of the NFL on the two-hour trip north today from Port-au-Prince. I spotted a No. 10 black Steelers Kordell Stewart jersey, a No. 40 red Buccaneers Mike Alstott jersey, a No. 7 black Falcons Michael Vick jersey and a No. 13 aqua-colored Dolphins Dan Marino. All of the shirts, like many of the clothes worn by everyday Haitians, are donated from the United States.

-- Mark Curnutte

Curnutte will return June 2

Because I am fortunate to have regular interaction with Enquirer readers and many Bengals fans, I wanted to let you know that I will be out of the country, on a mission trip to Gonaives, Haiti, from Tuesday, May 16, through Thursday, June 1.

My Enquirer colleague Kevin Kelly will be covering the Bengals in my absence. He can be reached at kkelly@enquirer.com.

Talk to you when I return. Thanks.

-- Mark Curnutte

Team waives QB Krenzel as rookie camp ends

By Mark Curnutte
Enquirer staff writer
The Bengals wrapped up rookie minicamp today and will shift to full-squad Organization Team Activity Days (OTA) on Tuesday.
But they made some roster moves before they will hit the field as a team.
The Bengals waived third-year quarterback Craig Krenzel and rookie tight end Ryan Hamby, both former Ohio State players. Hamby played at Moeller High School.
The Bengals also signed rookie tryout candidates in cornerback DeMarcus Rideaux (Mayville State) and wide receiver Glenn Holt (Kentucky).
Each NFL team is allowed 12 OTA days in the offseason plus a three-day full-squad minicamp. The mandatory minicamp will be June 15-17.
Coach Marvin Lewis will meet with his team – which will include all but four of the rookies who participated
“We’ll set our agenda and our plan for this year, set our direction,” Lewis said of what he will tell his team, which is coming off the franchise’s first division title and playoff berth in 15 years.
“You start from scratch. We have a lot to do. We have a lot to earn. We don’t start with anything. We got nothing in the bank. We’ve got to put the work in, and the effort and the execution to have the opportunity to get back to be close to where we were. Now we’re a long ways away from that.”
Starting quarterback Carson Palmer will not be available for field work because of his continuing rehab from knee surgery Jan. 10. Lewis said the four remaining quarterbacks would split the work but that Doug Johnson would work at first with the starting offense.
The other two quarterbacks, beside Johnson, are Anthony Wright and free agent rookie Erik Meyer, who has to return this week to Eastern Washington University for school commitments, Lewis said.
Lewis also said that fourth-year wide receiver Kelley Washington, who has not attended offseason workouts yet at Paul Brown Stadium, was expected to take part on the OTA sessions.
Lewis was clearly pleased with what he saw through five rookie practices from the eight draft picks and almost two dozen rookie free agent and tryout candidates. The Bengals this afternoon announced the signings of two tryout players: cornerback DeMarcus Rideaux (Mayville State) and
“It’s been a good five practices, three days,” Lewis said. “No. 1, the draft picks have come in and performed, to my eye, what we anticipated if not better. So that’s been very pleasing. For those eight guys, all of them will be with us and will be with us when we start the (on-field work) with the rest of our football team.
“We’ve been pleased as coaches of how they have been able to get a good handle of all the information they’ve been given and go out and execute it without any glaring error.”
Lewis, as could be expected, liked what he saw from first-round pick Johnathan Joseph at cornerback.
“Johnathan Joseph is as fine a guy as I’ve been around out there,” Lewis said. “He played in coverage like we play in the NFL. He comes here, steps right in and understands things the way we are doing it.”
Lewis also was happy with the performance over the weekend of Rashad Jeanty, whom the team signed during the offseason. The former Central Florida defensive end had played three seasons in the Canadian Football League.
“With Rashad, it was his first experience with us,” Lewis said. “He was such an addition for us this offseason. I’m anxious when we start playing real football to allow him to get going.”
The Bengals plan to move Jeanty from defensive end to outside linebacker. He is 6-feet, 2-inches, 235 pounds.
“He’s a big, strong, fast guy,” Lewis said. “We’ve spent a lot of time with him. He’s been meeting with (linebackers coach) Ricky (Hunley) every day since we’ve had him. He’s put in the time and effort. He’s been one of the most explosive guys in the offseason stuff. You do see a guy who has played football. He has played in Canada for three years.”
The Bengals finished 11-5 in 2005 and lost an AFC wildcard playoff game to Pittsburgh. Though free agency is largely done, and the draft complete, Lewis is happy to back on the field. The work of shaping the roster continues.
“As we go along, we have to make some revisions and release some guys we don’t think will be as productive as we’d like in training camp,” he said. “We’ll keep trying to shape and trim the roster.”
E-mail mcurnutte@enquirer.com

Sights and sounds of rookie mini-camp

The Bengals opened their rookie mini-camp today at the stadium.
Some observations:
-- At 6-feet-7, 334 pounds, second-round pick Andrew Whitworth is one of the largest human beings I've ever seen.
-- While rookie mini-camp serves a purpose, it has no entertainment value. Said one unidentified Bengals employee, "It's like watching paint dry, without benefit of the fumes."
-- We're pulling for first-year center Ben Wilkerson, coming back from a serious knee injury at the end of his college career at LSU in 2004. He missed all of last season. He's practicing with big braces on both knees, and it's almost painful to watch him try to run.
-- Former Miami University linebacker John Busing, who signed a rookie free agent contract, showed that did play safety in high school before being converted to a linebacker at Miami. He back-pedals fluidly.
-- Veteran defensive tackle John Thornton and his young son took in some of the afternoon practice from the sidelines.
-- Special teams draft pick Ethan Kilmer has a new nickname, courtesy of the writers that cover the team. "Val" Kilmer, after the actor.
-- Rookie free agent quarterback Erik Meyer was drafted three times by Major League Baseball teams, including the Reds. He is a pitcher with a 94 mph fastball.

Team signs two more college free agents

By Mark Curnutte
Enquirer staff writer

The Bengals this afternoon announced the signing of two more college free agents, brining to 17 the total of undrafted rookies who have come to terms with the club.

The Bengals signed defensive end Eric Henderson of Georgia Tech and halfback Terrence Whitehead of Oregon.

Henderson (6-2, 270), signed a two-year contract. Whitehead (5-10, 209) signed a one-year deal.

The Bengals announced the signing of 15 college free agents Friday. The new players will have their first workouts with the team during the rookie mini-camp May 15-17 at Paul Brown Stadium. Rookies and eligible first-year players will participate.

Bengals sign 15 undrafted college players

The Bengals this afternoon announced to the independent media the signing of 15 college free agents.

The signings of many of these players had been reported Tuesday and Wednesday in The Cincinnati Enquirer.

The list includes four players with local/regional connections. Tight end Ryan Hamby is a Cincinnati native who played at Ohio State and Moeller High School. Linebacker Wyatt Gayer played at Anderson (Ind.) University and is from Leopold, Ind. Safety John Busing is from Georgia but played in college at Miami University. Defensive tackle Marcus Lewis is from Georgia but played in college at Urbana (Ohio) University.

All 15 players signed two-year contracts:

NAME, POSITION, HEIGHT, WEIGHT, COLLEGE; HOMETOWN
--Danny Baugher, P, 5-10, 194, Arizona; Phoenix, Ariz.
--A.J. Bennett, WR, 5-9, 190, Eastern Michigan; Delray Beach, Fla.
--Jesse Boone, C, 6-5, 297, Utah; Fillmore, Utah
--John Busing, S, 6-3, 231, Miami (Ohio); Alpharetta, Ga.
--DeDe Dorsey, HB, 5-10, 194, Lindenwood; Broken Arrow, Okla.
--Greg Estandia, TE, 6-8, 264, Nevada-Las Vegas; Moorpark, Calif.
--Wyatt Gayer, LB, 6-0, 259, Anderson; Leopold, Ind.
--Ryan Hamby, TE, 6-3, 246, Ohio State; Cincinnati, Ohio
--David Jones, TE, 6-3, 259, Louisiana State; Silver Springs, Md.
--Marcus Lewis, DT, 6-2, 296, Urbana; Lithonia, Ga.
--Nate Livings, G, 6-4, 309, Louisiana State; Lake Charles, La.
--Chris Manderino, FB, 6-0, 231, California; Newport Beach, Calif.
--Erik Meyer, QB, 6-1, 210, Eastern Washington; La Mirada, Calif.
--Bristol Olomua, TE, 6-5, 268, Texas Tech; Laie, Hawaii
--Naufahu Tahi, FB, 6-0, 254, Brigham Young; West Valley City, Utah

More college free agents signings may be announced upon completion of contract signings.

The CFA signees will have their first work with the team during the May 13-15 minicamp for rookies and first-year players at Paul Brown Stadium.

The Bengals also have arranged for a number of unsigned players to work with the team during minicamp on a tryout basis. Two of these players with local/regional connections are WR Andy Wellendorf (Mount Saint Joseph College and Cincinnati’s Elder High School) and S Tez Morris of Pittsburgh (from Hamilton, Ohio and Hamilton High School).

-- Mark Curnutte

Draft notes: TE Hamby signs with Bengals

By Mark Curnutte
Enquirer staff writer

The Bengals have begun the process of signing undrafted rookies.

According to the Web site KFFL.com, the Bengals on Sunday night signed former Ohio State tight end Ryan Hamby, who played high school ball at Moeller. He is 6 feet, 5 inches, 255 pounds, and he had nine receptions for 85 yards last season.

Bengals coach Marvin Lewis said he wanted to take at least five ends to training camp. If he would stick, Hamby would be the fifth.

And the agent for former Eastern Washington quarterback Erik Meyer says the Bengals have signed his client. Meyer is expected to be the only quarterback participating in the rookie mini-camp, May 13-15.

Meyer won the Walter Payton Award for the top player in Division I-AA. In 2005, he was 269-for-410 passing for 4,003 yards and 30 touchdowns. He threw 84 touchdowns in 42 collegiate starts. He is 6 feet, 1 inch, 210 pounds.

LOCAL HEROES: Three players with local ties were drafted.

Defensive end Ray Edwards (Woodward), who played at Purdue, was a fourth-round pick (127th overall) by Minnesota.

Linebacker Terna Nande (Miami University) was a fifth-round pick (137th overall) by Tennessee.

Offensive lineman Zach Strief (Milford), who played at Northwestern, was a seventh-round pick (210th overall) by New Orleans.

SHOPPED: Bengals wide receiver Kelley Washington, who signed a one-year tender on Saturday as a restricted free agent, was offered in trades by the Bengals throughout the weekend, but there were no takers.

E-mail mcurnutte@enquirer.com