In that instant, a 7.0 earthquake hit Port-au-Prince, Haiti and changed the lives of three million Haitians. For Wilkins, the circumstances of his time in Haiti hit him full force.

After he came home it took him days before he could tell his story, his wife said.

Cheryl Wilkins said her husband could have been in the Hotel Montana when it collapsed, and only wasn't because he didn't mind bunking in a small house with several others instead.

According to international news sources, a French minister said two-thirds of the guests inside the popular hotel when the massive quake hit and caused it to collapse are now missing.

"I really believe God had his hand on my husband," she said. "There's so much that could have happened, gone another way, that we feel blessed by God to be honest."

Wilkins said when her husband arrived in Haiti as part of a business trip to repair airplanes for his employers, Toronto-based Trans Capital Air, he had nowhere to stay. An organizational glitch meant there wasn't accommodation arranged when he landed. His employers instead offered to set him up at the four-star Hotel Montana or give him a bunk at a house on the UN compound at the Toussaint Louverture International Airport with other mechanics.

"My husband is not a picky man by nature," Wilkins said, so he stayed at the compound. "He could have stayed at that Hotel Montana. I truly believe he was being protected."

Brian Wilkins was done his work in Haiti about three hours before the quake hit and was ready to enjoy some leisure time before heading home a couple of days later.

"We'd finished work at about 2 p.m. and we were preparing to go home (to the compound)," Wilkins said.

First they headed to the Caribbean Market between downtown Port-au-Prince and the airport because one of their group needed groceries. On the way home, they stopped for a bite to eat at an open-air restaurant on the side of the road.

Then the quake hit.

"You never really think you'll be caught in something like that. You're kind of in disbelief," he said. "You can see the landscape moving in quite a wave."

In under a minute, the devastation to the city was widespread.

"A half hour previous, we'd walked through the Caribbean Market and that place was demolished," Wilkins said. "We were as stunned and in shock as everyone else."

From the restaurant, Wilkins and his dinner partners headed back to the UN compound at the airport to check their house.

"After, we knew we had to get word out that we were okay. The phones were out, but we were able to use Skype," he said.

For Cheryl Wilkins, the uncertainty before that phone call was excruciating.

"I was expecting a call from him (on Jan. 12) so we could make plans to pick him up at the airport, but the call never came," she said.

Then, she was told by friends to turn on the news.

"I was terrified. I was almost frozen in fear, but I prayed," she said.

She thought her husband would be okay at the United Nations compound in downtown Port-au-Prince, but then she saw that building had collapsed as well.

She wasn't alone dealing with her fear, however.

Her neighbours and her pastor David Parker and his wife Ester came over "without even asking".

They promptly got on their phones to the Canadian embassy seeking any word about Brian.

Staff members at the embassy "were absolutely wonderful," Wilkins said. "They knew he was in the country. They told me they had somebody assigned to me and my family."

"But they were honest with me. They said they didn't have any contact and communication was down across the country."

Four and a half long hours later, the phone rang.

"I could hear my husband's voice but the connection wasn't good. He was saying, 'I'm okay, don't panic. I'll try to get another call soon but I have to pass the phone to somebody else,'" Wilkins said.

"It only lasted 20 seconds and I didn't know where he was, but I was so relieved hearing that. I thanked God."

Mood at the Tottenham home shifted from fear to determination.

"We kicked into a new mode. How do we get him home?"

While they planned, Brian Wilkins wasn't standing idly by.

He made his way to Toussaint Louverture International Airport, about 10 kilometres from the UN compound.

Between the compound and the airport, he saw bodies along the roadside.

"They dug their loved ones out of their homes and they had no means of giving them a proper funeral. They laid the bodies out on the side of the road," he said.

At the airport, he found out Trans Capital, which has supported UN humanitarian efforts worldwide with their airplanes, was sending 10,000 pounds of supplies by plane and they'd try to get him out.

But getting out became second to helping out.

He and the other mechanics got to work putting seats into planes for passenger flights, and taking seats out of planes so stretchers could be strapped in for medical flights.

"I was helping the mechanics around the airport," he said. "Everybody was lending a hand where they could."

All around him, a massive international response mobilized. Wilkins, an aficionado of airplanes, was awed by the dozens of military and commercial aircraft from countries all over the world descending on the small one-runway airport.

It was the best air show Wilkins has ever seen.

When he left, there was a sense of relief at finally being on the way home.

"When we finally got him home, we had joy in our hearts," said Cheryl Wilkins.

Bu she said they were torn. While in awe of how he made it out, the celebration was also tinged with sadness and compassion for the people still trapped in Haiti.

"Our hearts and minds and prayers have been with them ever since," she said.