of their bark by maria. piled high onto the road until they become the road. you don t walk to point michel, you climb and clamber. these are what s left of the rain forests, giants that stood centuries, thrown like matchsticks across the shoreline. the rain forests now just a memory. once at point michel we hear the stories of those who survived like miranda john. when i came back and i saw inside there, i just break down. everything, gone. the sea was right inside there. reporter: as we venture further into the community, we find salma francis, who insisted her mother leave her home next door to be with the family as maria bore down. this is what remains of her mother s house. these are stories repeated throughout the village. we met joan frampton further along the road.
along the road, the trees begin, stripped even of their bark by maria piled high on to the road until they become the road. you don t walk to point michelle. you climb and clamor. these are what s left of the rainforests, giants that stood perhaps for centuries thrown like match sticks across the shore line, the rainforest now just a memory. we hear the stories of those who survived like miranda john. when i came back and i saw inside of there, everything gone. the sea was right inside there. as we venture further into the community, we find selma francis who insisted her mother leave her home next door to be with the family as marie ya boar down. this is what remains of her mother s house. these are stories repeated throughout the village. we met joan frampton further