‘Unimaginable’: KC man lost seven relatives, including grandfather, in Turkey earthquake

In the dining room of their Kansas City townhome, a circular container hangs on the wall with the phrase “Oceans of Generosity” painted on its front.

It has a small opening for donations to be dropped inside to help the people of Turkey in the wake of Monday’s devastating 7.8 magnitude earthquake that struck its southeastern region bordering northwestern Syria, where more than 20,000 are confirmed dead and thousands more are injured.

“This is an unimaginable time. A very challenging time for the people of Turkey. A lot of people are in need,” said Eyyup Esen, 38, who shares the home with his wife, Merve. They keep as pets two parakeets: Antetokounmpo, named after the Greek-Nigerian NBA player, and AST, short for Advocates of Silenced Turkey.

Esen and his wife are from Istanbul. But his parents are originally from Adiyaman, a city of about 250,000 in an affected region that is home to 13.5 million Turkish people. His uncles, grandparents, cousins live in the city and its surrounding villages. Seven of his relatives died in the earthquake, he said.

On Monday, Esen’s father was in the area to visit his 85-year-old grandfather, Ahmet, who was being treated for an infection in the intensive care unit of an Adiyaman hospital. His father was outside the city when the earthquake hit, and, as communication networks went down, his family spent days wondering if Ahmet was alive or dead.

On Wednesday, Esen finally got word that his grandfather had died. It took almost eight hours, he said, for his father to find his grandfather’s body among hundreds of other dead.

“That was the shocking part,” Esen said. “We were expecting my grandpa to pass away. But, you know, even it’s hard to imagine that.”

“Everyone will die one day, but that scenario — among hundreds of dead bodies — that is really traumatizing,” he added.

Esen has lived in the U.S. for 16 years, eight of which have been in Kansas City. By day, he is an adviser at Metropolitan Community College in Kansas City, Kansas. By night, he is the executive director — he calls the role his full-time volunteer job — of the Dialogue Institute of Kansas City, a nonprofit that aims to promote mutual understanding across people of diverse faiths and cultures.

As a human rights advocate and outspoken critic of the Turkish government — which under President Recep Tayyip Erdogan has long been accused of imprisoning political dissenters following a failed coup in 2016 — Esen said he fears returning to his native country could land him in a Turkish prison.

But he remains close with his family there, frequently calling and texting. Living afar, Esen has not seen his grandparents for 13 years, though he keeps fond childhood memories of riding horses by their village home when he was a boy.

His grandmother often asks when he will come back to Turkey — most recently for a funeral held Thursday.

Along with his grandfather, Esen’s other relatives who were killed in the earthquake were cousins and second-cousins, including four young children. Amid a disaster that has thrown the region into turmoil, making basic transportation difficult if not possible, he said, six were buried during a family funeral at once.

In recent days, Esen says his uncles have been staying in a two-bedroom space housing as many as 15 people. His father, grandmother and other close relatives were in a school building where they only have access to “basic human needs” like heat and water.

For Esen — who has lived in the U.S. for the past 16 years, the past eight in Kansas City — the event has also served as a “wake-up call.” He looks around his home here, and thinks of what others are living through, 6,000 miles away.

“We take a lot of things for granted. And I don’t think we have an amazing, big house here. But you know, when you think about other people’s conditions, I’m like, this is bigger than we need,” Esen said.

As a Muslim, Esen says he takes comfort in faith as he processes his emotions. And even though he could not attend the funeral in person, he says he still feels like he was there.

“I don’t feel I didn’t go to the funeral. I was there. And I believe in afterlife, which is permanent, and I hope to see them there,” Esen said.

The Associated Press contributed to this report.