United by tragedy

It is a storefront church near the corner of Harvard Street and Blue Hill Avenue, where most of the service is conducted in Haitian Creole, a language Frank Sullivan does not happen to speak.

Language was not the only thing that separated Sullivan from the congregation of the Eglise De Dieu De La Petecote Libre Sunday morning. But he was there, his wife at his side, remembering the tragedy that brought them together. He was there as the guest of his friend Gary Zizi.

Zizi's family was asleep in their Dorchester apartment when his 7-year-old daughter Berlinda woke everyone up with her screams. She was the first to notice their first-floor apartment was going up in flames.

Zizi, his wife, Mona, and four of their children made it out. Gary Zizi bears the scars - on his hands, and his head - of the burns he suffered trying to save the lives of the other two.

Rebecca and Rooben were the tragically unlucky ones. Both died in the fire. Rebecca had celebrated her ninth birthday the day before. Rooben was 11. The cause of the fire was attributed to a space heater.

While Zizi's physical wounds are healing, the memory of the pain remains fresh. Zizi apologized Sunday morning for tearing up as he discussed the loss of his two children. He works for a production company called Tele Diaspora, hosting a cable show in Creole. He said he has only recently gone back on the air. "This is hard for me," he said. "Anytime I talk, the pain of it comes up."

It wasn't long before the tragedy reached Frank Sullivan. Sullivan is a retired Boston fire dispatcher who runs a small foundation in West Roxbury. It's called the PINCH Foundation, for People In Neighborhoods Can Help. He thought he could help raise a little money for the Zizis.

"I used to say that when I made my first million I would start a foundation," Sullivan said. "Six years ago, I just decided to do it anyway."

It struck him that the fire was in Dorchester, not that far from Franklin Field, where he grew up. It also mattered that the victims were immigrants. He thought he could help them tap into a wider network of donors.

Councilor Sam Yoon was instrumental in helping to organize a fund-raiser. Chancellor J. Keith Motley of UMass-Boston donated a room for it. It was held on a sweltering Sunday in June, and attendance was not huge.

But it represented the melding of cultures Sullivan was hoping for. An Irish step-dancing troupe was followed by a Haitian choir. A lot of people who might not normally cross paths gathered in the same room. It raised $11,000 for the Zizis, which is a lot when you have lost so much.

"When it happened, my question was, 'Where is the larger community?' " Sullivan said. "I wanted to let them know that people from all cultures care."

Zizi refers to Sullivan as "Mr. Frank." Sunday he said, "Mr. Frank, he did a lot of things for us. I don't know how to explain what he did for us."

Which brings us to Sunday. The Zizis wanted to let Sullivan know how much they appreciated his efforts.

They had a beautiful sign carved in wood for him, in Haiti. It is a nameplate, the kind of sign you would see on an office desk, and reads, "Mr. Frank Sullivan, Director of Publications," which is the title Sullivan has whimsically given himself at his foundation. In handwriting is added, "In appreciation from the Zizi family."

Sullivan talks about it with wonder. "With everything they've gone through they want to do something for me. I think that says a lot about them."

It was presented in church both because the church had rallied around the Zizis, and because Zizi and Sullivan believe that faith played a part in bringing them together.

It is a bond that extends beyond money. "They've lost everything," Sullivan said.

"I can't even imagine their pain. And their main concern is thanking me?"

Adrian Walker is a Globe columnist. He can be reached at walker@globe.com.