On Monday morning, the ride in the backseat of the car was staring at the turmoil all around as the driver headed to the border: Barricades. There are bags. There are tanks. There are soldiers.
He has been living in Mykolaiv, a small city in Southern Ukraine, for the past two months. A basketball player is afraid of being seen by the Russian soldiers. Don't get caught. He repeats to himself, don't get caught.
He practices the phrases he learned.
Don't shoot. I'm American.
The last four days of his life are shown in images. Wake up to sirens. There is a grocery bag with essentials. There is a bomb shelter. He heard bombs around him and thought he was going to die in the Russian invasion.
Creek shudders in his seat as the driver pulls up to the checkpoint. He reached out the window and handed over his passport to the soldier. The wife and mother-in-law of his Ukrainian basketball team's assistant coach are in the car with him. They are leaving their husband and son-in-law behind. Guilt gnaws at Creek because he knows his assistant coach and countless Ukrainians are in danger and don't have a way out.
He is praying he still does.
He is worried that the Ukrainian soldiers will send him back or ask him to join the fight. They do not know my story. He thinks that they don't know he is American. He gets his passport back. He exhales. They drive.
Five days after Russia invaded Ukraine, Creek is being driven west from Mykolaiv to the Moldovan border. Creek is dropped off near the Moldovan border by his coach and family after four hours at a checkpoint. 700 people are waiting in line. The temperature drops below 30 degrees after sunset. Creek rubs his palms together to stay warm.
He was in line for nine hours. He has some seeds in his bag, but he can not eat them. He is too nervous.
He made it to the border, but he knows he is not safe yet. He had heard that Black emigrants were being sent back and made to wait for days before being allowed into other countries. He grabbed his American passport and told himself that he would beg them to let him in.
He was asked to move to the side when he reached the front of the line. The border officials let people in. They asked him for his passport. They asked him to wait and leave with his passport. It feels like another nine hours when he waits for 10 minutes.
They hand him his passport when they come back. And wave him in.
He calls his mom.
He yelled into the phone that he was a free man.
He hears a noise.
Two weeks ago, Creek was one of five Americans listed on the roster for MBC Mykolaiv, a professional basketball team in the Ukrainian Men's Basketball SuperLeague. Creek went overseas in 2016 after playing for Indiana and George Washington University. He signed a contract with MBC Mykolaiv in December of 2021.
Fears of a Russian invasion of Ukraine began to grow in February. The US Embassy in Kyiv was closed on February 14th after the US Department of State urged U.S. citizens to leave Ukraine. Creek's four American teammates decided to leave, two to play for different leagues and the other two to be with their families. Creek was the only American left.
Creek had not been paid despite attending practice and playing three games. Team officials downplayed the conflict, saying it would blow over with Russia. Creek was told that the league would not be suspended and that he would not be let out of his contract. He would not be paid and he would be out of a job if he left.
Creek's case is not the only one, according to reports by Yahoo Sports. American basketball players in Ukraine have been put in similar situations where they broke their contracts and fled. More than 30 American players played in Ukraine this season according to team rosters on EuroBasket.com.
Pammy Creek told him that his life mattered more than basketball and that he had to tell them he was a father, a son, a brother, a grandson, an uncle, and a cousin.
Creek met with team officials days before the invasion, asking them to suspend his contract and pay him for the work he had already done. He noticed that the prices of flights and hotel rooms were going up. He didn't have the money to take the expensive flight if he didn't get the payment. Pammy tried to send money to Maurice but was told it would take days.
The team paid Creek half of what he was owed three days before Russian forces began missile and artillery attacks. That was good enough. He got a new contract to play in a basketball league. He would take a COVID-19 test on February 23, pick up his results the next day, and fly out the next day.
Creek woke up at 5 a.m. on Thursday to a panicked call from his mother.
She cried into the phone when she heard the war had started.
He heard sirens go off across Mykolaiv.
He filled a grocery bag with essentials. There are bottles of water. Cans of food. There are bags of seeds. An American who has lived in Ukraine for 20 years is his assistant coach. They mapped out a plan. If Creek began to hear explosions, the coach who lived four minutes away from him in an apartment building with a giant underground Bunker would drive over to pick him up and take him to safety. Creek was between the bomb shelter and his apartment.
Things got worse on Friday.
I said thank you for praying for me. Thank you for everything. I love you all.
Pammy Creek cried when she saw the words on her phone. She tried to call Maurice, but the calls did not go through. Maurice did not have a cell phone. Mike put his hands on his forehead in resignation as Pammy watched. He stared at the floor for a long time.
It is a nightmare of a lifetime that nobody can wake you up from, nobody can shake you up, and nobody can throw cold water over your face to wake you up.
Maurice sent a text message to his mother on Friday when they heard bombs in their city. The sound and impact made him shiver. Creek was taken to the shelter by the assistant coach.
Creek didn't know if they would make it out alive. He wanted his parents to know how he felt. He sent them the text.
Pammy got a video from Maurice about four hours after that text. The bomb shelter is shown in a short clip. There was a maze of cinder blocks, cement and dirt.
Pammy said it was just hell without the fire.
Pammy called Maurice after seeing the video message. She exhaled when she heard her son say hello. He was alive. He said that things were getting bad here.
Pammy told him that if they need a body, they can have mine.
The sirens stopped soon after. Maurice and his assistant coach decided to lay down in complete darkness, despite the fact that the bombing slowed down. This was their routine for the next three days. Creek ran to the grocery store near his apartment and found most of the items were gone. He watched people grab cans of food and throw money at the counter.
Creek needed someone to help him find a way out.
A year ago, Creek was working at a basketball clinic in Pennsylvania when he met a man namedErikNordberg, whose son was attending the clinic.
The basketball players from Sideline Cancer, who have competed in The Basketball Tournament annually, kept in touch with a retired lieutenant colonel who had earned numerous commendations for commanding the U.S. Army's special forces in places like Panama, Afghanistan and Iraq.
When he heard that Creek was in trouble, he knew he could help. In his 23 years with the U.S. Army Special Forces, he had been in similar escape and evade situations. He reached out to American units stationed in and around Ukraine, asking them for escape plans for American citizens. Creek could take a number of different paths if he wanted to flee to Moldova.
The path to freedom was easier on paper.
Creek waited outside his apartment on Saturday morning for the car his team was supposed to send to drive him to Moldova. He waited for more than an hour, but the driver never showed. The driver needed to take shelter after the sirens went off.
The plan was mapped out by Nordberg. He was connected with a team in the southwestern region of Ukraine that said they could drive to Mykolaiv, pick up Creek and drop him off at the border. They were about to leave when the bomb went off in Odessa.
The team in Romania had a bus that they could send to Mykolaiv. The bus had to cross a bridge to get to the gas station.
Ukrainian soldiers stopped Creek when he reached the bridge. They 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 888-276-5932 Creek thought he was a Russian pretending to be an American.
He inquired about finding a boat that Creek could take across the river, but he was not interested in that option.
The team sending him the bus said they could shoot him on the boat. That is not a good idea.
The creek was close. He walked away from the bridge as the bus left the gas station.
Creek said it was a gut punch.
When he got a chance to go back to his apartment, he threw and turned, unable to sleep. The Russians needed to wait until Monday to try again after the weekend's attacks.
Monday was an important day. The two countries had agreed to talks on the border. Russia would get more aggressive if things did not go according to plan. He needed to have a plan, a backup plan and a backup for the backup plan. He had to get Creek out on Monday.
There were four plans in motion by Monday morning. One of them was leaving with the assistant coach and his family in a car. As the car drove to Odessa, the phone of Creek was pinged and he could be traced. After Creek told Pammy that he had crossed Odessa, she saw that she was being sprayed with bombs on her TV. She clasped her hands.
The journey took four hours. He was at the Moldovan border.
Creek searched for the cab his agent had arranged for him from Moldova to Iasi, a city in eastern Romania, after nine hours in the immigration line. It felt like everything took longer because of the language barrier. He hopped into the car as fast as he could after making contact with the driver.
"If they need a body, they can have mine, but I need you back here. I don't care what happens to me." Pammy Creek
He ordered a Bolt from Iasi, which is the equivalent of a ride-sharing service in Europe. The first driver canceled after checking the destination Creek had plugged in. The second driver asked if we were actually going to Bucharest.
Yes, indeed. It was his base for a few days. A friend of his who played in the European leagues agreed to house him.
Creek arrived in Bucharest six hours later. He paid $200 for the Bolt ride.
The journey had taken about 24 hours. Throughout his journey, Nordberg kept watch and collaborated, answering his phone into the wee hours of the night and making sure every driver he rode with was taking him to the right location.
Creek was free for the first time. Creek was able to sleep because he wouldn't wake up to a sirens. Creek felt a sense of relief.
McIntyre Creek is in the guest bedroom of his friend. He has a long and shaggy beard and is wearing a gray hoodie. His eyes are puffy from lack of sleep, but he smiles easily and says he has reservations at two different restaurants for dinner that night and the next night.
He smiles and says he is going to enjoy his food.
His escape from Ukraine took place about two hours later.
He says that he is able to fall into a deep sleep for the first time in days after taking a nap.
Pammy and Mike finally get some sleep at home after five days of very little sleep. Nordberg takes a long shower and knows he isn't on call anymore.
Maurice is grateful. This could have been a disaster.
I am feeling better now. I am no longer in a war situation. He says it was terrifying.
Pammy is still processing something. The tears will keep coming. Her son got out. As the front page of the New York Times read on Wednesday, "Indiscriminate bombing of civilian targets intensified." Russian troops seized Kherson, a city 44 miles from Mykolaiv. Over 2,000 civilians have been killed so far when they close in on Kyiv.
I am crying tears of joy because Maurice is out. I am crying for the souls that are still there. I am praying for people who have lost a loved one. Pammy said that he was crying for the lady and her daughter who had to leave their son and husband behind.
Maurice is going to land at the Dulles International Airport on Thursday to a crowd of people waiting for him. His friends from Sideline Cancer, as well as several media outlets.
Pammy says that he is not safe until he reaches the U.S.
Maurice says he can't wait to be home.
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