Chapter 32
SHALL SPEAK WITH NEW
TONGUES.
(From the
time I arise from the berth on the sleeper train on the morning of 14 March
1975, till I depart Guam for Japan on Thursday 2 September 1976. The majority of that time, I am studying the Japanese
language in the missionary language school in Karuizawa Town, Nagano
Prefecture, Japan. I also visit the Pacific Island paradise of Guam U.S.A., 3
times.)
Before leaving Iwakuni, on the phone with Brother Fred, I
arranged to come to his house today, Friday 14 March 1975. He asked if I could
find the train connections by myself. ‘I think so. I’ll call you if I
get lost.’ When my sleeper train reaches the end of its route at Tokyo Station,
I transfer to Yama No Te train line to Ikebukuro Station (in Tokyo), There,
take the Seibu-Ikebukuro Line out to Inariyamakooen Station near Fred’s house
in Sayama City, Saitama Prefecture. I call Fred from the station phone booth. He
arrives by car in 5 minutes to take me to his house. I open my bag of many
sweaters, and he likes the two I got for him. The rest of the family like the
sweaters I give to each of them.
I stay with the Hersey family till
Monday morning. Attending church with them Sunday morning, Brother Fred asks me
to give a testimony after his sermon. I testify of God calling me to preach
Christ in Japan. God blessed it to the listeners.
Monday morning, 17 March 1975, I bid
the Hersey family Farewell. Carefully following Bro. Fred’s instructions, I
change trains twice, to ride 3 trains to Karuizawa.
On the second train (out of Hannoo to Takasaki), a Japanese
man of dull personality purposely sits next to me to start talking. I
strain to converse in my limited Japanese. “Come to my house.” I tell
him I cannot, as I have other plans. Soon he insistently repeats that
invitation a 2nd time, and later a 3rd time.
By then, I’m thinking, I must be careful
not to quench the Holy Spirit. God has put me in Japan to meet lost
Japanese souls, to tell them of the Saviour. ‘This must be God opening a door,’
I think to myself. So, upon his 3rd invitation, I reply that I will go to
his house for a short visit. Whereupon he drops the subject,
and says little more till he stands up to alight from the train about 20
minutes later. I too stand up, and gather up my bulky
bags.
“What are you doing?” he asks me with an annoyed
look.
‘I’m going with you, as you asked me to do.’
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” So, I stay put,
and he alights from the train alone with no farewell to me.
Regularly being similarly treated by different Japanese people, I’ve come
to perceive most of them to muchly be puppets of the devil.
At his will, Satan pulls their strings in any direction, and in opposite
directions to vex and weary us missionaries who are striving to see God set
them free from Satan’s bonds.
Experts who have thoroughly researched and surveyed
Christian missions worldwide, write that missionaries in Japan wear out
and burn out as quickly (or more quickly) than on any other foreign field.
So, I quickly learn that if I make the Japanese people my joy (and if I do,
as unto them), I’d burn out on this mission field. So, I do, as
unto the Lord, and I make my Lord my joy. And thus, doing so, the Joy
of the Lord becomes my strength. And thus wise, He sustains me
all my life preaching Jesus Christ in this heathen land of idols. (You just read Wisdom. Apply it!)
Arriving at Takasaki Station, I change
trains the 2nd time to catch a train that
goes to Karuizawa. Yokokawa Station is the last station before Karuizawa.
Yokokawa is at the foot of a steep mountain range. There I sit on the train for
about 5-minutes as they attach 2 extra electric engines to the rear of our
train to push it thru about 14 tunnels up the steep mountain to Karuizawa at
the top. As we slowly make our way in and out of tunnels, I see that the steep
mountainsides between tunnels are white, and the white deepens as we ascend
the mountain. Soon I alight from the train at
Karuizawa Station, in the midst of a blizzard, so cold be this blowing snow. Certainly, different from the short
sleeve weather I left way down south in Iwakuni 4 days ago.
I lug my bags out to the head of the line of taxis, and the
1st driver opens the rear door by remote handle from the driver’s
seat. In simple Japanese I say, ‘Karuizawa Language School?’ He nods his head, affirming
that he knows where it is. ‘Please.’
“Novice Missionary Boy, you ‘sho-nuf’
gotta study Japanese more.”
‘Absolutely!’ The taxi driver takes me there,
arriving as teachers and student missionaries are eating lunch in the school’s
chapel. They set a plate for me and I eat. Bill Cook isn’t there right now. After lunch, someone
calls Bill, I talk briefly on the phone, and he comes later. He takes me (with
my bulky luggage) in his car to Bethel House, where I will room for a year or
so.
Bethel House is the home of Pastor and Mrs. Takahashi. It’s
a small “boarding” facility (a main large building and 2 smaller ones, each 2
stories high). They give me the 1st floor
room in one of the small buildings. On the 1st floor are scant
cooking facilities for the 2 boarders. Presently the 2nd floor room
is not occupied. They offer me 3 suppers a week with them and boarders, Mon.,
Wed., and Fri., for a price (partial boarding). I take
the meals. It is a relief to put my bulky bags into this new abode,
and ride on to town hall with Bill for the required alien registration.
The town official who assists me sees that my last name is
misspelled (Yerry) on my passport. Eagle eye elite pilot boy was so happy to
get his 1st passport in Fukuoka that he didn’t even check the
spelling when they handed it to him. I never noticed that mistake till now. I
will soon have to go by train to the U.S. Embassy in Tokyo to get another
passport issued.
To and from Town Hall, Bill points out places in town I
need to know of. Returning to the language school, he hands me a set of textbooks, and tells me to show up by 8 AM the next morning
to start studying. As I leave, I meet Ron and Katie outside (a missionary
couple), as they are leaving school after their daily classes. We make self-introductions
and stand there in the cold getting briefly acquainted. The black volcanic
ground is a mixture of melting snow and ice (black slush). Under one arm, I am
holding (unbound and unbagged) my 3 new Japanese textbooks just issued to me
today. Shaking hands with Ron and such, I easily manage to let
all 3 books slip from my grasp and fall onto the black half frozen slush. I
quickly pick them up, so saddened to blacken
one side of the new books, and embarrassed
in front of new friends.
“Well, you’ve christened your language study!” Ron’s words
(in a friendly, light hearted manner) fit the
occasion. All 3 of us laugh and soon part. I wipe off my soiled books as best I
can.
I walk to Kikusui (Chrysanthemum
Water) Restaurant (that Bill had previously pointed out to me). There I eat
supper for almost 3 times the price for supper on base at Iwakuni, and I get
about 1/3rd the amount of food here.
Welcome to expensive Japan. Walking on to Bethel House in the cold, I stop into a small grocery store to buy a few things for my
breakfast.
Lunch is served each weekday at the language school, for a cheap
price. I buy it 5 days a week, and the 3 weekly suppers at Bethel House. I
prepare my other meals in the tiny limited kitchen
next to my room. I ‘sho-nuf’ miss those nice, large cheap meals in the
officers’ chow halls. Married missionaries in town are kind to occasionally
invite me to their homes for meals. I rejoice over that, and
strive not to be a pig at their meal tables.
Returning to my cold room at Bethel House, I fire up the kerosene heater, per
instructions I received when I left my bags here. I bundle up in my room and huddle close to the stove to save on kerosene now
that I have no income. From now on, I trod thru the
snow to the main building 3 evenings a week (with towel, soap and shampoo) for
a bath. How bless-ed I be, to suffer such light afflictions
to preach Christ in The Land of the Rising Sun!
Tuesday 18 March 1975: The first whole day of my
residency in Karuizawa. I will reside in this town till 1 August 1978. I
awaken in a room ever so cold, and freely choose my attire for the day, no
longer enslaved to the Marine uniform of the day. I cook and eat a simple breakfast, and soon set out walking half a mile to
the language school with my blackened textbooks.
I had no motor vehicle at Iwakuni. I will not obtain a car
until 1983. Being ever so frugal with my savings, I do not even buy a bicycle at this time. Locally, I walk everywhere, up to 2 or 3
miles. I take buses and trains when I rarely travel long distances. Reader
Friend, I found great (and natural) freedom in setting out walking each morning,
instead of starting an engine. Our Creator ordained that we walk, and He set that example while on earth as a man. It is a wonderful life (experience speaking)!
I was highly motivated to study hard in junior high and high
school in order to make the highest grades
possible, wanting to break out of life on a prison farm. I was highly motivated to study hard at Auburn University (just to make passing
grades) in order to gain a university degree.
Upon becoming a Marine Corps officer, I was highly
motivated at Quantico
to rank high in my class to be chosen for jet pilot
training. Then in pilot training, not washing out highly motivated me. After pinning elite Navy pilot wings of gold onto my
chest, each time I leaped into the air with a fast jet warplane strapped
onto me, I was ever so highly motivated to strive to be the best pilot in
the air, in order to land alive
and safe. In summary, I’ve always
been highly motivated.
But my present motivation far, far exceeds all recorded in the previous paragraph. 1. I want to intensely
study the Japanese language in order to proficiently
preach to the whole nation of Japan in their tongue. 2. I want to daily
soak my soul in the Holy Bible to learn every Spiritual Truth I possibly
can. 3. I want to intercede in prayer day and night without ceasing, pleading
with My Lord and God to bestow great mercies on multitudes of lost,
perishing, precious Japanese souls to save them from eternal doom. How glorious that these three endeavors know no
limits. I can pursue
them to the utmost for all my days on earth, making each day brighter than the previous day. But I will never ever exhaust their bountiful Riches no matter how many days I
live on earth to pursue them. Truly, that all makes me the most
blessed creature on the face of this earth! Thank Thee, my Sweet
Lord!
I praise my Creator God for filling my heart with
the motivation recorded in the previous paragraph. There will be days that I
will exert myself to the fullest mentally and physically. But thru it all, my Master’s yoke is always
easy and His burden ever so light. In the previous chapter,
I wrote of the bondage I was under in my earthly father’s house,
next as a university student, and then finally as a military warrior.
Now, for the first time in my life,
I feel totally free of human bondage. My Master will never flunk me out of any of the 3
endeavors listed above. That makes for an ever
so easy yoke and light burden.
“If the Son therefore shall make
you free, ye shall be free indeed.” (John 8:36) Lord Jesus Christ, My Creator God, please make me free indeed. By Thy Holy Ghost Power, please totally eradicate my self-will. From this moment on, may I live to do Thy Will, and Thy Will alone. Thus
wise, I will be free indeed.
The language school’s present semester ends in a week, and
a new one starts in 2 weeks. Bill Cook agrees to allow me to start classes today.
I like the flexibility and informal (family) atmosphere of this small language
school. About 5 couples and 4 or 5 single missionaries are presently enrolled.
I opt to study alone (as opposed to a group of 2 to 4). Tuition is higher for
private lessons, but I want to go at my own pace. Today, I have three 50-minute
classes with 3 different Japanese Christians teaching me, and then a 50-minute
lab session listening to tapes and repeating aloud each sentence. I concentrate
so hard, that I end the day with a migraine headache.
Mondays thru Thursdays, I study common, daily use language.
On Fridays, I study religious (Christian) language. Each Friday, we conduct
chapel in Japanese at 11 AM, when one of us students leads
in singing a hymn, one prays, one reads Scripture, and one delivers a message.
This schedule is made up a few weeks in advance, giving us time to prepare. One
teacher is assigned to critique each participant at the end of each chapel.
Pastor Takahashi (Bethel House owner) pastors Karuizawa
Gospel Church on the main street in “Old Karuizawa”. So, each Sunday morning, I
attend his church. They do not have a night service.
But a 6 PM English service is held in the language school chapel. I attend it, and am assigned to preach the sermon at times. Also,
missionaries have Wednesday night prayer meeting at 7 PM in English at the
language school, usually in a small room easy to heat. At the same time in the
chapel, Bill Cook teaches Bible (in Japanese) to our language teachers and any
other Japanese who will attend. Karuizawa Gospel Church has prayer meeting each
Thursday night. I attend it most weeks.
Brother Sekiguchi is the school’s supervisor and head
teacher. About a week after I start studying, he asks me, “Do you want an
English class (teaching English to a Japanese man)?”
‘Why not.’ So, Mr. Hasegawa comes weekly to the language
school for a tutoring session of Southern accent English, paying me for
tutoring. His class begins my “tent
making” in Japan. I have
seldom been without English students since then (March 1975). I thank God for
enabling me down thru the years, to lead several of my English students to
Christ.
I assumed the warm weather I enjoyed at Iwakuni
would arrive here any day. But Karuizawa is like a different planet,
high in elevation with long cold
winters. Snow falls regularly. I tread thru it to school, and to my 3 boarding
meals and bath next door. This sure isn’t the comfortable living that
has spoiled us Americans. This is the coldest place I have ever lived,
colder than Quantico. This year, a deep snow falls at the end of April.
I‘m the newest arrival at the language school. So, I keep my
eyes and ears open to catch wisdom. “There’s a used furniture store down the
mountain in the edge of Takasaki, very cheap.” I need a few items, so I go there on Saturday 5 April. I choose
a large wooden desk and a nice swivel chair, a drab brown metal chest of
drawers, and a large wood-frame mirror, each so cheap. I ask the man if he will
deliver them, at his convenience to my room over 20 miles away for an
additional 1000-yen (about $3.35). He reluctantly agrees. So, I pay him
in full, return home alone, and he soon brings them in his truck. I put my
office things into the many desk drawers, my clothes into the chest of drawers,
and thus feel much better settled into this new abode.
After several years, the chair fell apart. I still use the
other 3 items in my house now (2024). He told me the desk came out of the U.S.
Embassy. It is wooden, large, in 3 pieces (top and 2 sides, drawers in each
piece), so convenient to lift the top off from the 2
sides of drawers, to easily lift and move each piece separately.
Along about the last morning in March, I’m sitting in the
language school lounge with my open textbook on my lap, waiting for the time of
my 1st class of the day. Bill Cook comes into the lounge from his
office and solemnly announces to me, “Well, it’s over.”
‘What’s over?’
“South
Viet Nam surrendered.”
Most of our nation’s populace was plenty shocked that the
end came so quickly. I thank God for saving me from the bloody nightmare
(& death) that many military men my age experienced in that mess of a war
in Viet Nam. To date, I talk to Nam vets my age as some weep
when speaking of its haunting memories.
The fall of South Viet Nam to communist North Viet Nam at
the end of March 1975 was a powerful boost to the communist parties in most free
Asian countries, even in Japan. They began vigorous rallies and efforts to turn
each free nation into a “communist paradise”. A North Korean envoy sped to
China to ask what support North Korea could get from Red China to launch an
attack on South Korea. Dark, gloomy war clouds hung heavily over us here in the Asian Pacific.
Tuesday 8 April 1975, by now I am receiving mail here, mail
directly from the U.S., and mail forwarded from Iwakuni. Today, I receive my
grade from University of Maryland at Iwakuni for my 4th and last
semester of Japanese. I rejoice to see that I got an “A”. Today, a letter
arrives from Brother Beau and Sister Ruth (husband and wife) at Pleasant Acres
Church back in New Bern, N. C. They write that they will start supporting me
financially. And they faithfully did so until each died, more than 4 decades
later. Also, today a letter came from another Christian friend expressing a
desire to send an offering. “O ye of little
faith.” That’s me.
And I’m most thankful to God for you who care enough
to support me. Thru you all, God takes good
care of me.
In the language school building is a one-room elementary
school where Teacher Ginny schools 8 or so missionary kids in English. Ginny
speaks almost no Japanese, but is a zealous soul
winner. She occasionally has Saturday night “house parties” for Japanese
university students. She “collars every missionary she can, to assist with
these “soul winning” sessions.
Saturday 12 April: I help Ginny
(for my first time) with her house party tonight.
Several lost souls come. We have a nice supper. Brother Sekiguchi, the language
school supervisor, gives his testimony. Then I am paired up with a young man
about 20 years old. As I tell him of salvation in Christ, he freely shares his
heart, saying he cannot see the necessity of receiving Christ, and he doesn’t
want to hurt his parents by changing to another religion. This enslaved (to family, custom, & tradition) attitude abounds worldwide, and often tragically persists till the soul is cast into eternal
Hellfire, where they’ll never grow cold.
Abba Father, by Thy Almighty Power, set many such souls
free worldwide. Set many such precious Japanese
souls free. Christian Friend, cry out in
intercession along with me. Lost Friend, cry out to your Creator to set you
free from all powers that are destroying you and sending you to eternal Hell
fire!
Friday 18 April: Walking back to Bethel House from school,
a car stops and the driver offers me a ride. I hop in
with Lavern, a U.S. Marine World War II combat veteran and retired U.S. Embassy
employee (interpreter and translator), now living in Karuizawa with his
Japanese wife. This is my 1st time to meet him. After one of us
mentions that he is a Marine, so does the other. We chat for 3 minutes till I
get out at Bethel House. “Pray for me,” was his parting words. We become friends. He associates with many missionaries in
Karuizawa, telling us exciting war stories of Pacific island
battles he was in. Many of us speak to him of salvation in Christ. He never
made a clear decision to trust in Jesus before his death in early 1988.
Sunday 18 May 1975: My first time to preach in the Sunday
night English service in the language school chapel.
Wednesday 18 June 1975: I ride the trains to the U.S.
Embassy in Tokyo, praying that I can get a new passport today, (my name is
misspelled on my present passport). Consulting with them by phone and such,
they told me it would be complicated to straighten out this problem.
Praise God for miracles. I get a new
passport with no fanfare at all, and return to Karuizawa today.
The regular school year ends. A 3-week summer session starts
on 7 July 1975. I attend it. One evening at Bethel House supper table, Mrs.
Takahashi calmly says to me. “I don’t suppose you want to stay here
during the summer.” (Oriental Polite Way of telling me that I must
vacate during “summer peak”.)
I intend to keep renting my room and staying in it. Also, I
have no other place to go. But their custom is to kick out their regular
boarders for 5 weeks (from late July thru August), to make way for a full house
of daily boarders (paying a higher daily rate) who visit cool
Karuizawa for summer missionary and preaching conferences. When I moved into
Bethel House, the Takahashis should have told me that I would have to live
elsewhere in the late summer. Then I could have started making
arrangements. Now, when the time has come for me to scat, she uses the
polite (?) oriental method of suggesting that I do not want to stay here
during that time. (I will endure such “oriental politeness” till
I enter Heaven.) They reluctantly agree to let me move
upstairs (over my present room) into one of the 2 tiny rooms on 2nd
floor. I ascend to the Upper Room on 12 July.
Monday 14 July: Brother Russell Stellwagon and family come
to Karuizawa for 2 weeks or so. Today I meet them in
person for the first time. They invite me to supper on 2 occasions.
Friday 18 July: Desirous to be like my Lord, I go out into
a mountain tonight to pray all night (my first of several times).
Sunday 20 July: I ride with Brother Russell to rural Nozawa
Church where he preaches, and I give a short testimony.
Many missionaries, Japanese Christians, and conference
speakers and preachers flock to cool Karuizawa the last half of summer. Fred
Hersey drives up with son Samuel, and we fellowship 2 half days as they spend 1
night at Bethel House.
Dr. Jim Cook (manly, tall, muscular) arrives from Hawaii to
board at Bethel House while preaching a week’s Conference at the Union Church
(language school is next door). Neither Pastor nor Mrs. Takahashi drive. They borrow a tiny car for me to drive them and Dr. Cook to their
respective churches on Sunday 27 July. As we 4 walk out of Bethel House, humble
Dr. Cook squeezes his large frame into the tiny
rear seat. ‘I intended that you sit up front with me.
It’s roomier.’ He stays put.
That night, I attend Union Church
when he preaches. He comments on life in Japan. “This morning, I squeezed into
the backseat of a toy car. A kind man invited me to sit in
the larger front seat. But I was too tightly jammed in to change seats.”
Monday 28 July: At Bethel House supper, I recognize Yoneko Tahara, her husband and 2 daughters, my first
time to see them in person. Shortly after coming to
Karuizawa, I saw the film of her life story, stepping in front of a train as a
high school teen to end her sad life, surviving with both legs severed just
above the knees, left arm severed below shoulder and last 2 fingers on right
hand severed. Christian teens come witness to her bitter soul in the hospital.
After a while, she lets Christ in. Young Mr. Tahara who mainly led her to
Christ proposed to her. And here I am supping with their family of four. You
can read more details of Yoneko in Chapter 5 of my book Safety, Rest, and
Quiet, on my web site. A “Yoneko Tahara” “search” would likely turn
up video with English narrative.
From veteran missionaries (some served in Mainland
China before World War II), I hear exciting stories
of those “old days”. Bethel House is full of such summer guests. Once as I walk
the sidewalk with one of them, when another (Joe with thick
glasses) meets us walking, Joe brushes silently by us. (I know nothing about
Missionary Joe.) My walking friend tells me: “That’s Joe, missionary kid in
Korea in the early 1900s. His family had such scant food to
eat in Korea when Joe was growing up, that the lack of
nourishment left him with extremely poor eyesight. He didn’t recognize us.
That’s why he didn’t greet us.” Talk about
sacrifice! Likely Joe
was legally blind, but serving his Lord to the utmost
on this foreign field of Japan. Made
me feel so small.
Discussing my short, 6-month student visa with Bill Cook,
he tells me of a missionary who sponsors independent missionaries to obtain
missionary visas. I must leave Japan to change my visa
status. I start making plans to fly to Guam to apply for a missionary
visa at the Japanese Consulate there.
“You can stay with the Hoshino couple (Bill’s Japanese
Christian friends from Karuizawa) while on Guam,” Bill tells me. But after
arriving on Guam, I learn that the Hoshino couple
cannot host me (due to husband’s poor health).
I don’t yet know how to make plane reservations in Japan. So,
I plan to simply pack a bag, go by train to Haneda Airport with plenty
of cash, purchase a plane ticket for that day, fly on to Guam, and call the
Hoshinos from the Guam airport and plead, ‘Come for me, please.’ (No one
is far from the airport on small Guam.) I know there are about 5 daily summer
flights to Guam. ‘So, no problem getting a seat,’ I muse to my ignorant
self.
“Who can have compassion on
the ignorant.” (Hebrews 5:3)
Not only is that true of the high priest spoken of in that
Scripture, but it’s also most True of my Great High Priest, Jesus. Listen to
how my Lord so timely had compassion on my ignorance related in the 2
above paragraphs before that Scripture.
Wednesday night 30 July 1975 at Union Church: “The Millers
are here from Guam. Let me introduce you to them,” Bro. Sekiguchi says to me
(knowing I plan to fly to Guam). I meet the Miller couple, and Bro. Sekiguchi
asks me to drive them in his car to their lodging at Christian Center tonight. “You
can stay with us when you come to Guam.” The Millers’ sincere invitation was
instant, and a Godsend. Ignorant me
didn’t think I needed it.
Also, I had no idea that the many daily summer
flights to Guam are all booked full, weeks (even months) in advance. Had I gone to
Haneda Airport expecting to flop down cash and get a seat on a plane to Guam, I
would have been greatly disappointed.
Thursday 31 July (the
very next day): “The
cram school in Ueda City is taking a group of students to Guam. One person
canceled out. They have 1 empty plane seat and hotel bed available.” Just 1 day after my Lord tells me of sure lodging on Guam, now Bro. Bill, and
then Bro. Sekiguchi, each pass on this word to me. Bro. Sekiguchi has a
Christian lady teacher at the cram school (Eiken) call me today to invite me to
take the empty seat and hotel space, and stay with
them for their 3 exciting days of fun on Guam (me paying my airfare and hotel
room, of course). ‘Thank you ever so much! Put me down for it, please.’
Thank Thee, my Precious Lord Jesus for bestowing such great compassion upon ignorant me with these 2 perfectly timely (and most needful) miracles wrought by Thy Hand.
Monday 4 August 1975: At Karuizawa Station I board a
standing room only, tightly packed express train (summer crunch),
me standing with no room to wriggle, watching nearby parents trying to keep
their small children from being traumatized by the heat and the crush on the
train. The Eiken group boarded this train at Ueda (several stops before
Karuizawa), but I can’t catch sight of them till we all alight at the end of
the line (Ueno Station in Tokyo). When all crowded souls erupt from the train
onto the platform at Ueno, I join up with the Eiken group, follow them to the
charter bus waiting for us in front of the large, crowded station, take the
microphone handed to me soon after the bus gets rolling, and introduce myself
to everyone on the bus.
Arriving at Haneda Airport, it is a crowded madhouse
with Northwest Airlines on strike, during summer crunch. We board, take off
before midnight, arrive on Guam at 3 AM local time and it’s 5 AM when we reach
our beach hotel by bus. We bed down only 4 hours, all souls eager for fun in
the tropics. This is the 1st
of almost 40
trips I will make from Japan to Guam. I thank God for many blessed days (lots of them warm winter days) on this tropical island. You can read of my evangelism on
Guam in Chapter 6 of my book, Safety, Rest, and Quiet.
Tuesday 5 August: I take a walk on the lovely beach nearby,
sit in as the teachers brief the group of children, and eat lunch with them.
Then I head out walking to Mrs. Hoshino’s workplace
nearby. I introduce myself. (Formerly she
taught missionaries at the Karuizawa language school.) She is glad to meet
someone from her town in Japan. But (fortunately, before I mention lodging with them a few days), she
mentions that due to her husband’s health now, they can’t consider hosting
me. Thank Thee, Lord, for
bringing me in touch with Mr. and Mrs. Miller.
I go on to the Japan Consulate to inquire about applying
for a missionary visa. The Japanese lady receptionist replies that it will
likely be approved and issued promptly.
Friday 8 August: Till now, I daily go sightseeing and such fun with Eiken group till they leave the hotel
about 3 AM this morn. I go back to bed till 8 AM, and
soon check out of the hotel. Later, I call the Millers. They come and take me
to their house.
At this time, a religious cult in India is sending troublesome
“missionaries” to several nations. Japan soon bans all from that cult, and starts carefully screening missionary visa applications. Thus, it is months before my visa is
approved. The Millers graciously let me stay on with them. I attend all
services and functions at their church (Bay View Baptist), which also has a
Christian Serviceman’s Center. I attend its weekly night service,
and am soon called on to give my testimony to the G.I. guys.
Many refugees who fled South Viet Nam back in March, are
now here on Guam. Bay View church ministers to them. A Vietnamese pastor has Sunday
services for Vietnamese in the Serviceman’s Center. The Millers and others
teach the refugees English in the Center 1 night a week. I join in all such
activity I can, earnestly praying for my missionary visa to be approved
(meanwhile enjoying tropical life to the fullest).
I begin to teach English in the refugee camp (a closed
hotel on the beach), eat their “government aid” supper, and watch a nightly
movie outdoors on the beach (weather permitting). One “war” movie was produced
in Taiwan in spoken Chinese, with English in captions. “Shall we fight them
here or elsewhere place?” I was constantly laughing at such English
captions.
I teach in 2 Vietnamese homes. Mr. Be’s daughter (about 14)
cracked up from the trama of war and fleeing her native land. The family asks
me to teach her English in their house. Sometimes she talks a little, but sits stone silent other
times. Heartbreaking. I listen to many
heartbreaking stories from these refugees.
Guam families are typically large. Arriving Guam, I’m
amused to regularly see “family vehicles” (typically small Japanese trucks)
chugging along roads with 2 or 3 souls in the cab, and up to 5 (or more) in the
open bed of the truck, even in pouring rain. It’s never cold on Guam, so getting
wet is not such a problem. Now, at times I find myself riding
in the open bed of a pickup truck with Vietnamese as rain pours on us. “Welcome
to Guam life, Richard.” All such activity is rich, fun experience.
Friends in the States and in Karuizawa (Japan) pray for my
missionary visa to be issued. But the process drags on and on, greatly
disappointing me. In late October, I apply for a 60-day tourist
visa to Japan. It is granted immediately.
Thursday 23 October 1975: I thank the Millers for much
patience and hospitality toward me, bid Farewell to them and a host of precious new friends,
and fly back to Tokyo. I catch a 12:22 AM (24 Oct.) train out of Ueno Station
in Tokyo for Karuizawa, arriving there just before 4 AM. Thank Thee, Lord, for bringing me back
to Japan where Thou hast put my heart. Thank Thee for delaying me on
Guam, to put my heart there also.
It’s a joyful relief to lug my heavy bag from the station
to my room at Bethel House, and bed down for less than 4 hours. I wanted to
rest longer. But after I called Mrs. Takahashi from a pay phone in Tokyo, I now
see the kind note she left me, inviting me to join them for 8 AM breakfast. So,
I do. Later I walk to the language school just before 11 AM chapel starts, and receive a royal welcome from all
souls there who had been earnestly praying for me to be able to return
here. After chapel, I eat lunch with them, and re-start
my language classes this day with vigor.
I greatly enjoy my first autumn in Karuizawa (tho I
missed much of it), the vivid colors of the leaves when they turn red, orange
and yellow. On 30 November, the 1st snow of the season turns the
world lovely white. But, because I am not fond of shivering, the new snow
causes the Millers’ kind invitation to warm me thru and thru. “We plan
to go to the States for Christmas. Please come back to Guam then to house sit
for us.” They spoke that to me at their meal table on Guam back in October. Burglary
and vandalism are plenty rampant there. So, residents get
friends to “house-sit”, when they go “off island”.
When language school lets out for
Christmas holidays, I fly to Guam on Saturday 20 December 1975, just
before my tourist visa 60-day period of stay expires. Stepping off the
airplane, the tropical warmth and smell are embracing. The Millers are waiting
for me at the airport. They take me to their house and brief me on things I
need to know. That night, I see them off at the
airport and drive their car back to their house.
It’s a rich blessing to have the Millers’ house and
car available for my personal use. I feel like a king in his own castle. This
is my 1st time to have a vehicle to “use as my own” since parting
with my T-Bird at the Memphis Airport, late Nov. 1973.
I set about driving around to my Vietnamese friends’
houses. This reunion is a great joy to both them and me. Just before I left in October,
they closed down the refugee camp on the beach, having
gotten all the refugees into “permanent” housing. I already knew where Mr. &
Mrs. Le’s house is. So, I go there and they tell me
where other Vietnamese that I know, are now living.
The next day, Sunday, I attend church at Bay View. It is
good to again see my American friends in that church.
When the services end, I walk over to the Vietnamese church
in the Servicemen’s Center, to greet those friends, mutual
joy overflowing. “Let me treat you to lunch,” Nhiep says to me. So that
Vietnamese man gets into the Millers’ car with me, and we go to a restaurant
for lunch together. I met him back in September. He had fled Viet Nam, leaving
his wife and 7 children behind. His English ability is very limited,
but he groans when he speaks to me of how painfully he misses his dear
wife and children.
Monday, December 22: “Captain Anh had a heart attack and is
in the hospital.” Mr. and Mrs. Le give me that sad news today when I visit
them. I had gotten to know Captain Anh quite well back
in October. I soon drive on to the hospital. “He was
dismissed earlier today.” So, I drive to his house to
visit with him and his family. He was a captain in the South Viet Nam Navy, and then moved up to a higher civilian
position in government.
As South Viet Nam crumbled under communist aggression, he
sent his wife and 2 sons out to the U.S. on a commercial airliner. But he
stayed behind a few more days, trying to get
permission to destroy important government documents to keep them out
of the hands of the Reds. In the chaos, he never
got that permission. That delay almost prevented his escape. He finally
went down to the port with a small bag, hoping to flee on a ship. But it was mass chaos
there, with many souls frantically trying to board ships and boats to
escape. “Guess I’m doomed,” he pondered with sinking heart. “The Reds will
likely kill me, being the high government official that I am.”
But
a Vietnamese sailor
who had served under Captain Anh notices him and approaches him. “Come with me.”
That sailor likely saved the “captain’s” life this day by getting him onto a
ship that sailed to the Philippines. From there, he soon came to Guam, and his
wife and children flew from Stateside to join him on Guam. Likely the much
stress he endured in Viet Nam brought on this heart attack.
I find him at his house, laid back
in an easy chair looking most weak and weary (the toll of war). His wife looks
plenty worried and anxious. I endeavor to be a comfort.
“Spend the night with us. Stay as much as you like.” So, I spend the night
sleeping on their living room floor. I stay 2 or 3 nights (not in a row), and
visit with them and their 2 sons, parts of several days.
Wednesday 24 December, Christmas Eve: The Vietnamese Church
has a supper tonight at the Christian Serviceman’s Center. They invite me. I accept. Captain Anh is able
to come with family. After it, I drive to Mr. Le’s house. He urges me to
accompany him to Catholic mass. (Many of these Vietnamese are Catholics.) I reluctantly
do as he insists, and it breaks my heart to watch them practice vain religion.
But it broke my heart more to then go with him to a big party at the house
of a poor Vietnamese refugee family, where most all souls were funneling
beer down their gullets, even giving sips from the beer can to little children.
Righteous indignation flared up within me. Mercy on them all, Lord, to save each soul. I drive back to the Miller house
with a heavy heart, and get into bed at 3:30 AM.
Thursday, Christmas Day 1975: My first “hot” Christmas in
the tropics. I definitely prefer the sunburn to
snow. Brother Bradley, the director of the Serviceman’s Center kindly invited
me to his family’s Christmas Dinner today, starting in early afternoon, eating
and chatting for more than 2 hours with the Bradleys and another Christian
couple whom they invited.
The New Year 1976 arrives on schedule on Thursday. I attend
a watch night service at a friend’s church that ends
after 1 AM on New Years Day. I drive to the Miller house for a few hours sleep,
write letters and such in the morning, and then drive to Captain Anh’s house
for a big feast they have spread for New Years. People are so prone to make a
god of their bellies. I speak to Captain Anh of Christ. He assures me that he
is trusting in Jesus Christ. I spend New Years night at their house.
Daily, I am most blessed to spend much time with various
friends, as I bask in the tropical warmth. After 2 AM on Monday 5 January, I
drive to the airport to meet the 3 Millers flying back from the States. Their
plane is late. Mr. Miller cannot find his wallet, and
is quite sure it has been stolen aboard the plane. So, it takes plenty of time
for him to report that. I ride home with them, and we 4 get into bed about 5:30
AM.
I spoke of my efforts to teach English to Mr. and Mrs. Be’s
war traumatized teenage daughter back in October. Angie, their older married
daughter (in her 20s), also fled Viet Nam with her parents and little sister.
But Angie is now in great misery because her husband stayed in Viet Nam. Both
Angie and her dad are plenty fluent in English, and each now have a good office
job in separate locations. On this trip to Guam, I frequently see Angie and
talk to her much about Jesus Christ.
Saturday 10 January: As I eat out with Angie at lunchtime,
I speak of God and eternal matters. “I don’t think God loves me, because He
allows me to be separated from my husband against my will.” How great the human race be, so
quick to blame and fault our loving, gracious, compassionate God for anything about which they are
unhappy or displeased.
I speak Truth to Angie. (She frequently loans me her car for 2 or 3 hours while
she is at work, which is a tremendous help.)
Sunday 11 January 1976: Yesterday and today, I visit with
as many dear friends as possible, biding them
Farewell. At Bay View church, Bob (U.S. Navy) and Japanese wife Sachiko invite
the Millers and me to their house for lunch after church. Upon Bob and Sachiko
meeting me when I first came to Bay View last August, they have often talked to
me after church, happy that I’m in Japan preaching Christ. Bob plans to retire
from the Navy in about 6 years. He thinks God might then lead his family to
live in Japan to serve Christ there. We enjoy lunch with them and their small
son and daughter, oblivious to a soon-coming tragic
death.
Mon 12 January: I prayed much that my missionary
visa to Japan would be approved by now, but such approval has not come
to the Japanese Consulate here on Guam. Bidding several loved ones Farewell
today, I board an almost empty 747 Jumbo Jet this
afternoon for Tokyo, after most enjoyable winter holidays on a tropical
island. From Tokyo, I
ride the Monorail and 3 trains to Karuizawa, to walk in the cold to
Bethel House just before midnight. I rejoice to see a stack of heart-warming mail waiting for me from friends in the States (Christmas cards
and such).
I vigorously leap back into Japanese language study, and turn 30 years old. “Over the hill now.” As
I re-edit this at 78 years of age, I
chuckle at those words I wrote in my diary on my 30th birthday.
Starting this autobiography in 2020 was my first time to start
reading my diary straight thru from its start (January 1974). (I have glanced
at portions at times.) Anyway, reading my ancient history of 40 years
ago is most interesting J. If you start a diary today,
likely you will be most glad that you did so.
Wednesday 21 January: “I feel bad. Please substitute for
me, teaching my English classes at Eiken today.” I comply with missionary wife
Millie’s request to me. (Eiken is the cram school in Ueda City. I first
went to Guam with them.) Deep snow cancelled several trains today, delaying me.
I reach the classroom at 7 PM, and teach for 2 hours
(2 classes). Tonight is the start of me soon teaching regularly (one night a week) at
Eiken. The pay is a tremendous help, as my savings are playing out now. Plus,
it’s fun teaching the Japanese boys, girls, and young adults.
Saturday 28 February 1976: I go by train past Ueda City to
an English cram school in Nagano City to be a guest teacher in their afternoon
classes. Their English teachers are 2 Japanese ladies. So, they have a native
speaker come occasionally, and make it a fun
day when the foreigner comes. I have fun with the kids in their classes,
afterward enjoy a nice restaurant meal with most of the staff, and they put me
on an early night train with a nice pay envelope, thank God. Today is the start
of me coming to this cram school occasionally. I thank God for opening
this door.
I do my best in language study, and
regularly take my turn leading its chapel or preaching the short sermon on
Fridays. I preach in the Sunday evening English church service when assigned to
do so. I jog regularly for exercise in the lovely nature
around me. I hike out onto a mountainside and pray,
sometimes all night. I am the most blessed
soul on earth, thank God!
Wednesday 3 March 1974: I receive a letter from Mrs. Kenney
on Guam, the Japanese Christian lady who works in the Japan Consulate on Guam.
The Consulate has received (from Tokyo) approval for my missionary visa. Thank Thee, Lord Jesus, for this long
awaited miracle!
Japan government will not change
a visa status, inside Japan (a visa being a permit to enter a
nation). I want to wait till language school lets out for the summer to go to
Guam to get that missionary visa. So…
Friday 12 March: I ride the trains to the Shinagawa
Immigration Office in the port area of Tokyo. My 60-day period of stay on my
tourist visa is up today. (It started when I returned from Guam.) They readily
renew it, but tell me I must do my alien
registration this day, as I must do it within 60 days after “becoming a
resident.” I tell the kind man I will comply, thank him, and leave.
I am to register with city hall in the town where I reside.
But I plan to spend the weekend with the Fred Hersey family near Tokyo. I call Brother Fred from a pay phone to tell him of my dilemma.
“Come on out here. I’ll take you to my local city office for you to register as
a resident at my address. Then after you return to Karuizawa, you can go to town
hall there and change your address. So, I do thus wise, and
enjoy a blessed weekend with his family and his church congregation on Sunday.
Saturday 27 March: I ride the trains to Tokyo to do a
little shopping in the afternoon, and then go on to
Haneda Airport as Brother Hersey and I had planned. He will drive there in his
van, to meet The Director of Free Will Baptist Foreign Missions (Brother Rolla
Smith) and one board member (Brother Eugene Waddell), who arrived from
Nashville, Tennessee a few days ago (going right on to Sapporo), and today are
coming to visit the Free Will Baptist churches in the Tokyo area.
I accompany those 2 preachers and Brother Fred on a busy
schedule as they visit 3 churches in the Tokyo area on Sunday,
and do some sightseeing on Monday. They discuss the possibility of me
becoming an associate foreign missionary under The Free Will Baptists. I spend a most blessed 2 days with
them all, bidding them Farewell late Monday night, 29 March, to return to
Karuizawa. I pray about what we discussed, and my Lord never led me to apply to
be one of their associate missionaries.
Friday morning 9 April 1976: Upheaval! I am getting ready to leave my Bethel House room to walk to the
language school, when Mrs. Takahashi walks over to announce to me that they
have decided to move me out of this room and into the 2nd floor room
of the other small building. She kindly asks me
if I can make that move today, tho
I am now leaving to be in class most of the day. I moved into this room more
than a year ago. Why cannot this kind Christian lady give me at least a 1-week notice?
Striving to keep my fleshly temper
under control I politely ask her if I can make the move tomorrow on Saturday,
when I have no classes. She consents to my request.
Off I go to school, but have trouble consecrating
on my studies for some reason. After morning classes, I don’t
even go to my afternoon classes. I walk to Brother Sekiguchi’s house to borrow
a rope I will need in moving tomorrow, and walk back
to my room to start packing up.
Saturday. 10 April: Early, I leap single-handedly into the
big move; carrying light things I can carry alone. When Pastor Takahashi sees
me “moving”, he brings a young Japanese man with him out of the main building
to start moving Bethel
House items out
of the room I am moving into. I’m
astonished?! Tho they abruptly asked me yesterday to move then,
they do not clear out the room till
I start moving into it this morn. It doesn’t work well at all, them
carrying things down the narrow stairway as I take my things
up the same narrow way. Thank Thee, Heavenly Father, for giving us the fruit of the Spirit,
long-suffering, gentleness, and most of all, LOVE, ever so needful.
Yesterday at school, I asked Ron if he would come help me
move my heavy items. “Sure.” But he doesn’t show up today. Two young
Japanese Christian men I know, arrive separately to visit at Bethel
House (sent by God to help me). They gladly help me tie Brother Sekiguchi’s rope to 3 large items (one
at a time), and pull them up thru the large window
(those items being too large for the narrow stairway). By God’s Grace, we
complete the move by 11:30 AM, and I take the rest of Saturday off. I quickly
settle into this cozy, bright Upper Room, and like it better than the 1st
floor room I vacated on short notice.
15 April: With my wallet getting thinner, I ask around, ‘Is there a hospital or such place that will pay me to
donate blood?’ Japanese friends inquired for me, but nothing ever came of it. So,
I keep all my poor blood circulating near my poor wallet.
22 April: My friend Charles (back home in Vernon) kept my
Thunderbird for me, stored nicely inside a building. At the beginning of this
year, I wrote Charles to ask him to put it up for sale. He did. Last month, I wrote Daddy, asking him to also try to sell it. Today, I get a letter from Daddy saying he sold it for $1,000. I write him, thanking him. ‘Please give Charles $100 for
keeping it in good care and trying to sell it. You
take some for your help too.’ Daddy paid Charles, refused to take any himself, and
deposited $900 in my account in The Bank of Vernon. My rich
man’s T-Bird (of many fond memories) is now gone, and my poor
blood is richer. “Forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching
forth unto those
things which are before...” Amen and Amen!
28 April 1976: I rent P.O. Box 8 at the Karuizawa Post
Office for 1200 yen ($4) a year. Cheap! The mailman delivers mail to
Bethel House on a motor scooter, where he opens the large door to that main
foyer, and lays all the mail (for several people) on the “raised floor” inside.
When I am present at delivery time, I walk right over there when I hear his
motor scooter, checking to see if I have any mail (before
Mary puts it away and forgets it). At times, more than two weeks
after I return to Bethel House after being away a few days, embarrassed Mary
comes to me, handing me a few letters and apologizing, because she put them
away in my absence, and forgot to give them to me upon my return. Often that “forgotten”
mail contains love offerings to me (that my poor blood desperately
needs).
I am most happy today to opt for the safety and
security of a P.O. Box, and have continued to use one
to date (2024). Local Japanese Post Office workers aren’t that apt at reading
Japanese words written in our alphabet (as opposed to their Kanji and kana).
Plus, many Americans do “hen scratching”, as opposed to plainly printing the
address. So, if the numbers of the zip code and of my P.O. Box are
legible, that usually assures that my much-wanted mail will be duly put into my box 6 days a week.
While on Guam last October and also
when I returned there for Christmas and New Years, Captain Anh’s wife
repeatedly talked to me of Rose. “She is so nice and beautiful, and she is a Christian.
I want you to meet her.” Sounds good to me.
When Mrs. Anh and her small son, Charlie, fled South Viet
Nam on a commercial airliner (her husband still
remaining in dangerous, war-torn Viet Nam), her emotions were so torn
with fear, sadness, worries, and such. “Rose was my flight attendant, and she
took much time to kindly talk to me at length, telling me that she would pray
for me, and assuring me that all will be well with my family. She gave me her
address, and we correspond. You take her address and
write to her. Rose flies to Tokyo in her work, and I want you to go meet her
when she is there.”
I write to Rose, which begins correspondence back and
forth. “I’ll call you when in Tokyo,” she writes to me.
May 1st, 1976: Rose calls from Tokyo. An
important MAY DAY Call!! “I am to be based
here for a month. I would like to see you.” The feeling was extremely
mutual.
Saturday 8 May: I ride the trains to Fred Hersey’s house, and take plenty of ribbing from their family about
Rose, Bro. Fred being the most proficient “ribber”. I take trains on to
Shinjuku in Tokyo, go to the large plush hotel Rose’s employer (airline)
provides for its aircrew, have the clerk call Rose’s room, and she comes to the
lobby, everything Mrs. Anh said that she was. We walk out to
a park to sit and talk a couple hours.
‘The Herseys would like you to come spend the night, and be with us in church tomorrow.’ Rose agrees and
accompanies me to their house.
Sunday 9 May: Rose is so blessed and touched, observing the
small church packed full of Japanese children at the Sunday School hour. She is
a big hit with them, and then with the Japanese adults who come
afterward. After the morning service, the church has a picnic lunch in a nearby
park, blessed with good weather. Later, Rose gives her testimony at Brother
Fred’s afternoon English class. After it, I escort her on the trains back to
her hotel, and return to the Herseys’
house late to spend the night.
“Missionary Boy, did you enjoy this weekend?”
‘What can I say?’
“You could say that your diary entry reads ‘One of the most
wonderful weekends of my life’.”
‘Yep, reckon I could say that, couldn’t I?’
Monday 10 May: Brother Fred gives me a ride to the
immigration office near Yokota AF Base. I ask the officer if he will again
renew my tourist visa. His face clouds up. The policy is to not
renew tourist visas numerous times. He says he will send my
application to the head office in Shinagawa to see what they do with it, and he
stamps “Applied For” in my passport. That allows me to stay till they decide. So,
I can (and do) cancel my airline reservation to fly to Guam tomorrow (the day
my period of stay expires).
Saturday 22 May: Super Typhoon Pamela hits
Guam wrecking much havoc. (Search it to see) Had I flown to Guam on the 11th, as I had tentatively
planned to do, likely I would have still been there this day, and suffered with
all souls on Guam. Thank Thee, Lord, for keeping me away from the fierce
storm!
Friday 28 May: To this date, off and on, I spend 4 more
memorial days with Rose, bringing her to the Hersey home for much
good fellowship that all souls enjoy. Rose would work long hours 4 or 5 days straight
as a flight attendant, out and back on long international flights. Then,
returning to her base in Tokyo, she would be off 3 or 4 days. We all
enjoyed her long breaks from work. Tonight, Rose bids the Hersey family a
tearful Farewell in their house. I then accompany
Rose to her hotel in Tokyo, bid her Goodnight, and go wait out front 15 minutes
for Brother Fred and son Steven to arrive in their van.
I hop into their van full of suitcases to ride to Haneda
Airport, where we put their much luggage (for the
family furlough trip to the States tomorrow) into coin lockers. Fred has a
little trouble staying awake as he drives home, arriving after 1 AM. Now, their
family is all set to go to the airport by
train tomorrow (today), not hampered then with their much luggage. We try to get a little sleep.
The following day, Saturday 29 May, I accompany
the Hersey family on trains and the Monorail to the airport. Several of their
church members come separately, and we all assemble in their departure
area. “I will be departing on my flight about the same time. If
I can squeeze it in, I’ll drop by briefly to see you all.” Rose
told us that yesterday. And she squeezed it in. ‘There she
is.’ She comes over, looking ever so stunning in her flight attendant uniform (1st time for us to see
that). After 5 minutes of hurried greetings, I walk Rose to her “Flight Crew
Only” gate, come back to bid the Herseys Farewell with Japanese Christian
friends, and travel to my Bethel House room late at night, tired.
Monday night 31 May: Rose calls me
and we talk an hour. She worked
a round-trip flight to Guam and back to Tokyo today,
and describes the
severe damage from Typhoon Pamela on Guam (much power outage, water shortages,
and such).
“Richard, is this truly your life story, or just
a hero, romance, cheap fiction novel?”
‘Who
knows?!’
Sunday 20 June 1976: I preach the morning sermon in the
Iriso church that Brother Fred pastors. Japanese pastors fill in while he is
away, but they called on me today. This is my 1st
time to preach in Japanese
in a Sunday morning church service. I am honored, and
strive to do my best. The Herseys’ oldest son is an adult,
and is now house sitting for them. I lodge in their house with him when
I come here to preach, and to be with Rose.
Tuesday 29 June: Rose was scheduled to be based in Tokyo
for the month of May. When she asked for a month
extension, it was approved. We spend more time together in June than we did in
May. Cherished memories. Tonight, she and I enjoy supper in a Chinese restaurant
in Shinjuku (Tokyo), as we bid each other a final Farewell. In a day or two, she will fly out of my life, on to a different “base of operations”. Her world and my
world are planets apart. We two correspond for a short time after,
and then live happily ever after in our separate worlds.
“Sounds like The End of the romance side of this novel!”
Saturday 10 July 1976: Final period of stay on my tourist
visa expires today. Last night, I came to the Herseys’
house to spend the night with their son. This morning, I get
up at 5:30 AM, quietly dress and leave
(trying not to disturb his sleep). God gives me a safe 3 and half hour flight
to Guam. It’s a joy to see both Mr. and Mrs. Miller at the airport, waiting for
me. We talk much as they take me to their house, and we soon have supper by
candlelight. Electricity has not yet been restored to their house since the
typhoon. There is no hot bath water due to power outage. Cold showers are
somewhat bearable on hot Guam.
Sunday 11 July: Going to Bay View Church with the Millers
today is a happy reunion, seeing many dear friends again.
Monday 12 July: I ride with Steve Miller when he goes to
work, then walk around looking up Vietnamese friends, rejoicing to see them
again. Today’s news says a typhoon stronger
than Pamela is headed here. Mercy, Lord,
we plead!
Tuesday 13 July: I help Mr. Miller board up windows with ply
board as the island (still licking its wounds from Pamela damage) busily
prepares for the storm due to hit tomorrow. This house is still without
electricity. Long after I bed down a little early in the dark, I hear Steve
almost shout with joy. He is listening to frequent typhoon news on a battery-powered radio. “The typhoon has turned!
It will miss Guam completely!”
Wednesday 14 July: I happily help take down storm shutters.
Bay View’s church service tonight is full of joyful testimonies of relief, giving God the glory for turning the typhoon away from us, still severely “handicapped”
from Pamela’s damage on 22 May.
Tragically, this potential storm caused one
death on Guam. A young Navy sailor, standing on a wet surface cutting ply board
to fit as storm shutters onto his windows, accidentally cut thru the skill saw’s
electrical cord. The wet surface made the forthcoming electric shock strong
enough to kill him. His wife heard him yell, ran out of the house to him, and
he was barely able to gasp, “I love you,” before he died. Truly
Tragic!
Thursday 15 July 1976: I catch a ride with Steve when he
goes to work, and walk on to the Japanese Consulate.
Mrs. Kenney is at work. We are happy to see each other. I overflow with joy
and thanksgiving to God (and to every “nice” living creature), as she takes
my passport to officially stamp my missionary visa into it. I spend the
day walking around to several places in Tumon, thanking God for this long-awaited
visa. I walk to Steve’s office just in time to ride home with him. Walking into
the Miller house, we are elated to see the electric lights shining brightly
(power restored about 2 hours ago). Back to warm showers for a bath, and plenty
of light. Thank Thee, Lord, for abundant
Grace and Help this day.
Arriving on Guam this time, I quickly find the Vietnamese
Tung family of six (4 sons) living in Villa Verde apartments in Dededo. “Come
live with us to teach English to our boys and to several other Vietnamese
living in Villa Verde.” I thank Mr. Tung for that kind hospitality,
and tell him I will lodge with them off and on.
They live 2 miles or more from the Millers in Yigo.
Wednesday 21 July: Today, I pack a
small bag and come spend the night with the Tungs.
From now on, I interact with the Tung family and 5 other families living in
Villa Verde apts. Two of those families are Vietnamese. Three families are
American men married to Vietnamese wives. I quickly make friends with all their
children, and have a ball playing with them, teaching them English and
telling them of Jesus. Upon calling me to be a missionary, my Lord
instilled within me a burning desire to tell the whole world about Jesus
Christ. But my limited Japanese language ability has “handicapped” my efforts
in Japan, much to my frustration and vexation. So, on Guam it is sheer
joy to freely spread the Gospel to everyone in my native
tongue.
The following day, I start teaching English conversation to
the Tung’s 3 older sons and to 3 Vietnamese wives, each living in a Villa Verde
apartment with her family. It is a joy to daily walk to a nearby apartment,
teach English at their kitchen table, and then eat the healthy delicious
Chinese and Vietnamese cooking they put before me. Each family has children. I
play outside with the children, buy a Bible storybook and read to them. One by
one, several say they want to receive Jesus Christ, and then readily
follow me as I lead each in prayer. That is
a great joy! Mr. and
Mrs. Tung are Catholics (somewhat devout). He remarks to me that he wants his 4
sons to be Catholic priests. Shortly after his eldest son prayed to Christ for
salvation, he told his dad in my presence that he didn’t want to be a Catholic
priest. “I don’t like that religion,” he bluntly told his dad that which was on
his heart.
Monday 26 July: Vacation Bible School starts today at Bay
View with Mrs. Miller most active in it. I haul 2 children there in one of the
Millers’ cars. I invite the Tung boys. The 2 older boys want to go, and do so most every day from Tuesday on. VBS ends on
Friday. We got many children to attend, thank God.
Sunday 1 August 1976: Tonight, at Bay View church, we bring
as many VBS children as we can round up, and they “perform”. Mr. Tung allows
his 2 older sons to come. The group of children sings and quotes Bible verses
and such. After hauling them and working with them a half day each day, I
rejoice to see them glorifying God tonight. At the beginning and at the end of
their “performance” they sing the song, “Sing it out, Jesus Loves You”. I fell
in love with that “kid’s” song’s glorious message, and
have sung it hundreds of times during the 48 years since then.
I have increasing contact with Mrs. Kenney’s family (the
Japanese Christian lady working at the Japan Consulate). She is married to an
American Christian (an active Gideon) with 4 children, the eldest child now a
young adult and no longer living in their house. “My insurance paid me to have
all the exterior walls of my house painted after the typhoon damage. If you
want the job, I will contract you to paint it.” I accept Mr. Kenney’s gracious offer, to feed my starving wallet.
Sunday 8 August 1976: Tonight, a much beloved military
chaplain soon to depart Guam, preaches to a full house at Bay View church. The
Kenney family comes to this special service. After it, I ride home with
them.
Monday 9 August: “Handy man” missionary starts repairing
bicycles, cutting grass, and doing other such work for the busy Kenney family.
In a couple of days, Brother Kenney finally buys the paint, and I start
painting the exterior concrete walls. (Most buildings on Guam are concrete to
withstand typhoons.) I watch their 3 sons a couple of
days this week when the babysitter does not come. Brother Kenney takes me back
to the Miller house Saturday night.
Sunday 15 August: As on a few other Sundays, this morning I
teach Mrs. Miller’s teenage Sunday School class at Bay View. I’m most thankful
for this opportunity, and for being asked to speak of Christ at the servicemen’s
center occasionally.
“Please house sit for us while we go off island for a short
vacation.” Mrs. Sparks (of Bay View) occasionally comes to the Miller house
where she and Mrs. Miller sit at the kitchen table getting their fix of caffeine,
while honing up on their chatting ability. On such a recent occasion, Mrs.
Sparks spoke those most inviting words to me. Tonight, from the Millers’ house,
I take a bag to church with me, and ride home with the Sparks family.
Monday 16 August: The Sparks family of five (3 sons) and I
are up early to a light and hurried breakfast. They load the suitcases into the
car, and Mr. Sparks drives all 6 of us toward the airport (only 2 miles away).
We are almost there when the following highly emotional
matrimonial conversation materializes out of thick and tense air.
“You’ve got the plane tickets, haven’t you?”
“No, I don’t! I thought you were going to bring them!”
“I thought you would handle them!”
Bachelor Missionary is plenty intrigued by this
marital dialogue that causes the car to make a sudden U turn. Back to the nearby
house we go for the necessary plane tickets, and they still check in on time.
Tiny Guam Island results in everyone living relatively close to the
airport, a “lifesaver” at times like this.
The Sparks live in Barrigada Heights, a fairly
new and fancy subdivision on the hillside in Barrigada, making for an expansive
beach and ocean view from their large windows and patio. By God’s Great Grace,
I have their nice house (including all the food in the kitchen), nice view, and
car all to myself for 5 days. “Gracious is the Lord.” All day every day, it would be
ever so pleasant to sit on their patio, eating and drinking while drinking in
the lovely view. But I regularly bounce to the Miller house to pick up my mail from the States, to Villa Verde to teach English, eat their
good food and play with kids while speaking and singing of Jesus, and to the
Kenneys’ to paint drab concrete walls. Truly,
I am the most blessed soul on earth! Thank
Thee, Sweet Jesus!
Friday 20 August: Shortly before 9 PM, Mr. Sparks calls me
from the airport, having just deplaned from their vacation on nearby Saipan. I
drive there, Mr. Sparks takes the driver’s seat, and everyone is full of
excited talk. I think it best to break my bad news
quickly. ‘Your cat and kittens disappeared. I looked everywhere for them.’
Their softhearted youngest son weeps. We go buy pizza, bring it home, eat it,
and go to bed about midnight.
Saturday 21 August: The 3 Sparks boys talk my ears off all
morning. Their eldest son wants to be a jet fighter pilot. He has much to ask
me about such flying. After 1 PM, Mr. and Mrs. Sparks take me to the Millers’
house for me to drop off and pick up personal items. I soon leave with Mr. and
Mrs. Sparks for the Tungs’ apartment. In the car Mrs. Sparks speaks up. “Next
summer, our family plans to spend about a month in the States. Please come
house sit for us then.” Heavenly music to my ears! My Gracious Lord, I am most thankful and most
undeserving. They drop me off at the Tungs. I resume
my life with the Millers, Vietnamese, and the Kenneys.
Sunday 29 August: A Korean man, that Mr. Miller recently
met on Hawaii, flies thru Guam and is the Millers’ guest today. I accompany Mr.
Miller and son Steve as they take this Korean man to a Korean church service
this afternoon. I enjoy listening to the singing and
preaching in the Korean language, tho I can’t
understand it. I think of Pastor Chung whom I met in Korea.
That Korean service at Faith Presbyterian Church was half a
mile from Bay View. After it, I part from the others, walk up to Bay View to
inquire around as to where a certain Vietnamese family lives (nearby). I get
vague directions from one friend after another, and finally find the house,
walking to it. Last October, their 3 children (Judy, Peter and Jimmy) were in
the children’s English class I taught a few times at the servicemen’s center.
When I find their house today, only Peter and Jimmy are home. I talk of Jesus. Both listen well and ask good
questions. Soon I ask if they want to pray to Jesus for forgiveness of sins and
to ask Him to save them. Both want to pray, and follow
me as I lead. I joyfully talk to them more of Life in Christ,
and soon walk on air of joy to nearby Bay View Church for the evening
service.
(A side note) Back about June, the U.S. Navy transferred
Bob and Sachiko (of Bay View Church) from Guam to Yokota Air Force Base in
Japan, at Bob’s request. (Yes, some Navy guys get stationed on an AF base.) Bob
has a burning desire to be in Japan, thank God. After I come to Guam, Sachiko
goes from Yokota to Karuizawa by train, and finds her
way to Bethel House to visit me. She regrets to learn that I am on Guam, not in
Japan.
Wednesday 1 September 1976: Time is drawing nigh for me to
fly to Japan. Mr. Kenney asks me to do a little more painting on his house
today. I consent, tho I had rather be spending the time with Vietnamese
friends. When I finish the painting job in late afternoon, I want Mr. Kenney to
immediately take me to the Tungs’ house to sup with
that family. But he insists on his family feasting me at a café before I part from them.
It’s a big meal and I’m stuffed full when I bid Farewell to his family, and he
drives me to the Tungs’ apartment and leaves me.
The Tungs were expecting me for supper (a past event).
(They have no phone.) “You must be hungry,” Mrs. Tung says to me as I walk in.
Then she sets much food before me and commands me to
eat. Not wanting to hurt her feelings, I torture my
full stomach. It is almost 9 PM when I walk to a nearby apartment to bid
Farewell to Lynn’s mother (Vietnamese). She gives me a
nice pen set for my kindness to her family.
Nine PM is not mealtime, but she sets a large bowl of dog
bone soup before me. “Eat,” she commands me. These hospitable Vietnamese
ladies have often fed me this delicious, healthy meat and vegetable soup they
make from scratch. Because some of the tender hunks of beef in it are on the
bone, I named it “Dog Bone Soup”. That amused
them. “Here’s your dog bone soup”, they always delighted to announce to me.
After eating 2 large suppers tonight, I sure didn’t want to face a large bowl
of it this late at night. But out of respect to their kindness(?), I ate the whole thing,
my 3rd large, supper tonight. Thought I would die. I long for Japan and my oft
days of fasting there.
Thursday 2 September 1976: Lord, please help me to get all my business done this
morning. Please give me a safe flight to Japan this afternoon. Mr. Tung loans me his car to run many errands (to the bank
and such). Back to their house for the big lunch they put before all us. Then go outside onto the apartment grounds as
children return from school in the afternoon and gather around me. I speak
emotional parting words to their sad faces. I had made friends with just about
all the kids at Villa Verde. They are Islanders and Asians. Mr. Tung takes
pictures of the children clinging around me and later sends me copies. ‘Such lovely, but sad faces,’ I say as I look longingly on the pictures.
All 6 Tungs take me to the
airport, crowded into their car. Lynn’s mother brings her from Villa Verde.
Mrs. Sparks comes. Soon Mrs. Kenney arrives. All children are so sad. All
souls are emotional. Much is
said. More is left unsaid. I wait till the last minute to board, and
then fly out of Guam’s skies, ending 55 most
blessed days on this
tropical paradise island. Truly, this stay
on tropical Guam blossomed into a most rich spiritual experience. Praise God for the few precious little
friends who doubtlessly entered into Eternal Life
during this time on Guam as we were all traveling to our eternal abode. “Come thou with us.”
The End of Chapter 32