Dennis Moore ran through the streets of West Point, Liberia, summoning every ounce of strength from his 10-year-old body.
Bullets from the civil war that embroiled his country sprayed from all directions. Rebels were challenging the government of President Charles Taylor, who later would be charged with war crimes. Fighters as young as six were walking the streets carrying AK-47s almost as big as they were.
None of that mattered to Dennis. He was on another mission.
Dennis ran as fast as he could, his small hands gripped firmly on the handles of the wheelbarrow he was pushing. In the wheelbarrow was precious cargo: his father, Benedict Wesseh.
Dennis, who lived with his grandmother, had come to visit for the weekend and found that his father was gravely sick from food poisoning. The illness worsened overnight, and Dennis knew what he must do: Take his father to the medical clinic a mile away.
He borrowed the wheelbarrow from a neighbor and placed his father inside. He began running as fast as he could, trying as hard as possible to keep going and paying no attention to anyone – or the bullets flying along his route.
Dennis was determined to make it to the clinic; to run fast and hard and not be slowed by the pain surging through his body. As much as he tried to press on, Dennis had to stop several times to rest.
The last time he stopped, Dennis realized he wouldn’t make it in time. He took his father out of the wheelbarrow and sat in the street with Benedict’s head cradled close to his chest. Within minutes, Benedict died in his son’s arms.
“Dennis still can’t talk about it to this day,” said Kristi Moore, his adopted mother. “When the story is told, he wants me to tell it. He did all he could do but still blames himself for not making it to the clinic. We’re hoping he can soon let it go, and we’re trying to help him get past it.”
“As you would expect, it has had a profound effect on Dennis. He’s a perfectionist, wants to do everything just right. He wants to be a role model for younger children. Dennis has told me many times he’s never again going to let anybody down.”
Today, Dennis is 18 and living in Rock Hill, more than 7,000 miles from Liberia. He’s a senior at Northwestern High School, a star on the Trojans’ soccer team, the defending state and national champions. He’s an honors student, which, coupled with his soccer skills, earned him a scholarship from Wofford College in Spartanburg.
“The United States is a totally new world,” Dennis said. “I like this country; the people, the food, the schools and the chance to get an education and play soccer. I would not have had the same opportunities in Liberia.”
Rather than opportunity, Dennis often encountered a lot of pain and suffering in Liberia. He also dealt with several other personal tragedies.
His first major setback came when Dennis was 3 and his mother died from malaria. Kristi said treatment was available at the clinic, but few citizens ventured far outside their homes because of the civil war.
Dennis and his younger sister, Helena, went to live with their grandmother after their mom died. After several years of litigation, Dennis was allowed to spend some time at his father’s home.
His father’s house was a concrete structure but had no running water or electricity. Most people, Dennis said, lived in mud huts covered with leafy tree branches for roofs.
After his father died, Dennis was sent to the Daniel Hoover Children’s Village, a mission in Dixville, Liberia, for orphaned, abandoned and handicapped children. Dennis’ grandmother told Dennis that going to the village would allow him to attend school.
Helena stayed with their grandmother, who passed away. After a brief stay with other relatives, Helena joined Dennis at the village.
Soon after Dennis arrived at the orphanage, he began teaching himself to read. He organized soccer games during recreation periods, without a ball. He became a leader, a man before his time.
