Silent Panic
Dedicated to:
MICHAEL VON MORLOCK
The finest man I know,
and the finest man most people know,
who have met him.
He is not only my son, but my best friend also.
Date: Tuesday, November 27, 2001 1:59 p.m.
I have been working for days to put together an address book so that I may do what folks have been telling me to do for years-WRITE MY STORY. A few days ago a good lady wrote me and told me I needed a REST. So I will combine both as I feel our Lord is telling me to do BOTH. I suggest you print out each new e-mail, it will be worth it.
In Jesus Love, BUD.
Date: Tuesday, November 27, 2001 4:00 p.m.
Because of all the problems I have had getting started with this project this portion of the introduction will be short. I have lost all confidence in my internet skills, and so I will be going slow at first. I pray it will all be worth it - I mean for the glory of our Lord's kingdom. Perhaps this is the beginning (at long last), and I will be able to get on with this without too many delays and errors. In Jesus love, BUD.
Date: Tuesday, November 27, 2001 5:17 p.m.
Years ago when I was a pilot in the Air Force there was a day when I was flying between Seattle and Anchorage. It was in the afternoon. The sky was clear and the sun was shining in my window. Note: (at this point I should tell you I “earned” all D's in High school English. I tell you this so you understand better what my two index fingers will produce at this keyboard) And so as I sat there in the sun my mind began to wonder (or wander) probably both. I began to think about my life, where I'd been and where I'd be going. I thought about the plane crash in Japan, getting caught in quicksand with my wife, and the head-on car wreck that I miraculously survived almost unscratched. All three times I should have died. I asked myself, “Why was I still alive? What purpose had God planned for me to fulfill?” It came to me to write a book - a book that would help others to live a happier life. Because we all make mistakes I thought about the time I almost blew off my foot while teaching my son about gun safety, and about the time I forgot to put down my TAKE-OFF flaps on a night short field take-off in Kentucky and nearly destroyed a three million dollar airplane along with the whole crew, and I thought I should write a book to help others to learn from my mistakes. Yes, this would undoubtedly help them to live happier lives! I thought I would title this magnificent masterpiece, “IF I SHOULD DIE BEFORE I WAKE”. However, as you have noted, I decided otherwise -the title is, again a magnificent masterpiece, “SILENT PANIC”.
It is my hope and Prayer that my efforts will be worth while and worthy for you to mail on to others. Please print out these my efforts, because it will be expensive to replace back copies.
In Jesus Love, BUD.
Date: Wednesday, November 28, 2001 3:57p.m.
Yesterday, in the Introduction on page 2, I mentioned a plane crash in Japan. Well, we were flying in a C-130 from the Pacific island of Iwo Jima, to our home base in Japan, Ashiya Air Base. I was an extra pilot and did not have to do any flying so I just stood behind the Chief Pilot. As we approached Ashiya, our number 1 engine fire warning light came on. Our pilot shut the engine down and prepared to make a three-engine landing. This was nothing particularly dangerous as I had performed this maneuver many times. However, it must be done right! Upon landing he put the three remaining engines in reverse all at once. This is a NO-NO. We veered off the runway onto the grass -toward some buildings. To correct this problem he pushed the engines to full forward power to take-off once more. However, we did not have flying speed to do that so we went into an uncontrollable left turn at about 10 feet of altitude. My home, which sat near the runway, my pregnant wife, and my two-year old son all lay in our path. Fortunately, our turn got tighter and we turned inside and missed all these precious people. But, be the enlisted men's barracks came into our trajectory - three such barracks with people in them. We hit the first and started to cart-wheel through the remaining two and crashed going backwards onto a football field. When we came to a stop I was lying at the pilot's feet as I was not strapped into a seat. I was just standing there when we hit. I was hanging on to two brackets, but the force of the crash threw me down to the floor. I looked up at the pilot. He was bleeding at his nose and mouth. Later the doctors told me he was probably already dead with his lungs full of blood. We never found out as he burned up with the airplane. As for myself, all I could see was fire all around us so I made my way to the exit. The door was missing and so was the ladder which normally went down to it. I jumped to the ground below. In doing so I burned the palm of my left hand on a very hot exposed electrical wire (a scar is still there today - I just looked!). While it hurt I was relieved to know that my left hand was still connected to my brain! You see, in all this terror, I was conscience of the fact that I had no control of my left arm. Later, I found out it had been dislocated at the shoulder. Once outside the plane I made my way through a mass of burning debris. In doing so, I saw burning men jumping out of the second story windows. A man put me in his car and took me to the hospital where I phoned my wife. They reset my arm and two days later I was able to go home. A week after that I found myself testifying before an accident investigating team. When I finished answering their questions one Captain asked about my thoughts when I saw the first barracks before us and I knew I was surely about to die. I told him the truth, because I could remember exactly my thoughts. I told him, “I was wondering what it would be like to see Jesus!”.
Yesterday I received an e-mail from my God Daughter in Russia. She is our Sec/Tres there. She reported we were down to only $600. I have $2,000 to send her, and I will send it, but please help us. Our work goes on. Her request for funds was to support our 16 Christian college kids with money for food, dormitory fees, school supplies, and some warm cloths. It's 10 degrees there - soon to go down to 10 degrees BELOW.
In Jesus Love, BUD.
P .S. Please click me back when and if you read this.
Date: Thursday, November 29, 2001 6:17 p.m.
WOW! We are possibly making history! This may be the first time in the history of our World that a person sets out to write an autobiography, and after writing each page gives it to 41 readers who can critique it immediately (thousands of miles away in most cases), and comment on it before the next page is written! I love it.
Yesterday, four folks responded. The most interesting reply came from a Pastor in Illinois. He wanted to know what the Captain's reaction was to my answer. The Captain was a good man, but I hardly knew him. I never saw him in church. Maybe, I hope, my reply touched him.
Note: There are about 16 Pastors and 16 Bible teachers on these mailings.
My story yesterday, I am afraid, made me look a bit like a saint. However, I believe our Lord had many plans for me that were yet to unfold - which would prove that I was not, could not, would not, and never will be a saint. It wasn't much later that I found myself flying night combat missions in Laos every other night. On two nights our gunship was hit by 37mm anti-aircraft projectiles and we had to limp our craft home to Thailand. There were many aspects to the Vietnam War. It wasn't just Vietnam.
On one night, again over Laos, our ship was called in to fire upon enemy troops who were attacking our friendly guys. Being that it was night I fired the guns where our navigator aimed the computer index. I did so by placing my computer gun sight on top of his index and by pulling the trigger. This is a rather impersonal way to kill people. You don't see them die. When you run out of bullets you just fly home. As it was, however, a CIA agent who was on the ground decided to count the dead. It was in the neighborhood of 865. I was awarded a medal.
I have so much more to say. I don't know how long this will go on, but I feel our Lord leading me to tell you these things. Perhaps your life will be better because of my mistakes. If you wish critique me, and if you wish send this on to others.
In Jesus Love, BUD.
Date: Friday, November 30, 2001 4:57 p.m.
One ship sails east, one ship sails west, with self-same winds that blow.
Tis the set of sail, and not the gail, that determines the way they go,
I've forgotten the author, if I ever knew!
After I retired from the Air Force and found myself single I saw a man on Christian TV who was looking for Volunteer Bible smugglers. He was Brother Andrew, founder of Open Doors with Brother Andrew, and his organization's name was based on Rev 3:8, I know his real name, but I will not tell you here, because his organization is still active around the world. I plan to tell you some of my Bible smuggling stories, but you can read his in the book he published titled “GOD'S SMUGGLER”, He and I, as well as many others experienced many miracles in our exploits, His book became my training manual.
First, I want to tell you we get our authority by Jesus telling us to go forth into all nations and spread the Gospel. That is enough of a marching order for me, but should you worry about violating the laws of another country I tell you He also said we must obey God's laws before man's laws.
Once there was a day when I smuggled two suitcases of Korean Bibles into northeast China, near the Korean/Chinese border. My plan was the get these Bibles into Korea from Russia via China. I needed some help. Getting into China was easy for me as I had done this dozens of times. So when I arrived at my hotel I prayed that our Father would lead me to a man who spoke Korean, Chinese and English and that he would help me find a Korean businessman who had a food trading company! My plan was to smuggle these Bibles into North Korea with boxes of food. There was a vast food shortage in northern Korea. When I finished I said “Amen”,
I was asking a lot as this city had 4.5 million people and only 10,000 Koreans. But, I picked up my suitcases and went down stairs to the parking lot. Usually there would be 6 to 8 taxies waiting for a fare, but this day there was only one! I didn't know it was God's Taxi! Using hand gestures I told the driver I wanted to go up the street and go to the right. I knew there was a church there. As we rode I took out a cross and showed it to my driver. He shook his “yes, yes”. Then I took out a note I have written using a Korean/English dictionary. It said, “Do you know anyone who speaks Korean and English”. He took out a cell phone, YES, a cell phone! That was when I began to think that God had sent me a special taxi. He spoke on the phone and then gave it to me. I said, “Hello, do you speak Korean?” A man said, “Yes, how can I help you.” After I told him that I needed to talk to him he told me to give the phone to the driver. And, YES, the driver was a Korean!
Immediately, the driver spun the car around and we went in the opposite direction! In less than 20 minutes from when I said, “Amen” to my prayer we pulled up in front of a restaurant and there stood a very tall oriental man. He introduced himself as Mr. Kim. It was his restaurant and he invited me in to eat. I showed him one of my Korean Bibles and told him I wanted to get these into North Korean. He told me that would be impossible and I told him that with God all things were possible! Then I asked him if he knew a Korean who had a food trading company. He explained that he owned two such companies! I gave him the Bibles.
Now, here is where I get goosebumps! (AND I AM GETTING THEM NOW AS I TELL THIS STORY). I had to ask Mr. Kim, “Are you a Christian?” He said, “Yes, for 18 months now. Would you like to go to church with me tomorrow?” Of course, we went. He sent his “God's Taxi” for me!
One last note: We became partners getting scriptures into North Korea and one evening two weeks later as we shared dinner he told me that out of 10,000 Koreans only 1,000 or so were Christians and only one owned a food trading company and spoke English!
My Brothers and Sisters: As I type this my heart has begun to quicken its beat. It's like our Lord telling me. “Bud, you will return to Russia, but in My timing. Go to China now.” I am crying! I always do when God speaks to me and I know I am in His presence. Please, those who read this - pray about this. I will need a little financial support. North Korea is my TARGET. Click me on. Give me your comments.
In Jesus' Love, BUD. P .S. I can keep you up dated. I know there's a computer there.
Date: Saturday, December 1, 2001 1:04 p.m.
Yesterday I decided to go to China and North Korea. I phoned a seed distributor in Alabama. He told me he could help me get a seed distribution kit which I plan to use to get into North Korea. Then I called my God-daughter in China and she told me we can get Korean Bibles in her city. Today I got a Chinese entry form and I will mail it forward as soon as I can get photos and etc.
Five of the sixteen pastors who will receive this already have PLL as a line item on their church budget. If your church doesn't, please take steps to include us on your 2002 budget. To the extent that you respond will be the extent that I will know that I am going in the right direction. In Jesus' Love, BUD
Project Little Lamb/CPAA
Box 940314
Houston, AK 99694
Please print out and give to your council.
Date: Saturday, December 1, 2001 7:34 p.m.
I want to tell you this story before football season is over.
There was a day when I was a college student in my home state of Ohio that I attended a pro football game where the Cincinnati Bengals were playing the Cleveland Browns.
But first, I must tell you that a coach named Paul Brown made the Ohio State University “Buckeyes”, a leading college in national football, and we were all very proud to be a Buckeye. However, he founded both the Cleveland Browns and Cincinnati Bengals. Ohioians were football fools at that time. Because he founded both pro teams they both wore the same colors - brown and orange.
And so now on to the game. Before the first quarter was over there were many fights among the players and a few had to be ejected. The rivalry was fierce, both on the field and in the stands. All the fans of both teams were wearing the same colors and I have to believe that added to all the fist fights going on. Many fans were escorted, by the police, out of the stadium.
The second period was much the same except, perhaps, a bit worse. It was a relief to have it end. At half time both teams left the field. AND THEN...
AND THEN the Ohio State University marching band took the field. With trumpets blaring, drums beating and cymbals crashing they march down the center of the field playing the all too famous OSU “fight song”. In an instant the grandstand became a chaotic bedlam. Everyone went absolutely crazy (Now I am crying because I was there). At that instant we all became BUCKEYES - how dynamic - how powerful: I wish you could have been there so you fully appreciate what I am going to say.
Just imagine yourself in the biggest stadium in the world. No, a bigger stadium. No, a stadium 10 miles in diameter, OK? In the center Protestants are fighting Catholics, and Orthodox are fighting both the Protestants and the Catholics, and amongst the Protestants the Pentecostal, Baptist, Lutheran, and Methodist are all fighting each other! AND THEN AND THEN..., Jesus walks on the field. I Love you all, BUD.
Date: Sunday, December 2, 2001 7:05 p.m.
This, you will find, is a very interesting story. It will only take 3 minutes to read. If you do read it all please click me back. A critique would be great but, at least let me know if you read it. I need input.
There was a day about twenty years ago when I lived in Springfield, Ohio, and I was attending co-ed aerobics classes. I was 47 years old! The tape on our instructors music cassette broke. A young businessman, named Eric, gave Jill, our instructor, a dance tape he had in his pocket. She took one look at it and handed it back, saying “No, it's Satanic.”
After the class I went up to Jill and asked, “Are you a Christian?” She replied, “I don't know - I'm Catholic!”. I thought as I walked away - that's just like a Catholic!, but later I was disappointed in myself. I had a very unchristian thought about Jill and Catholics. Then, at that point, another thought went through my head. It was something about, “Chickens coming home to roost”,
In my defense, I want to tell you that 40 years earlier, when I was 7 and my sister was 11 we lived in a very rough Cleveland, Ohio neighbor. It was all Irish and Italian Catholics and we were the only Protestants - German Lutherans.
One evening, as the sun was setting, my sister and I were in the nearby playground. Three Catholic girls started to beat up on my sister. Bev cried out to me to run and get our father. However, three Catholic boys warned me that if I did they would beat up on me. All I could do was stand there, and watch, and cry. In later years I was able to forgive them and for the most part forget. Normally, I never think about it.
Then 14 years ago, I was doing missionary work in Alaska. I was backpacking out in the wilderness. My mission was to seek out the many American and foreign backpackers who were seeking adventure in the “Last Frontier” and tell them about Jesus. I found myself on a very lonely road and after 10 hours of no progress I started hitchhiking in both directions! Finally, just as the sun had set a young man stopped and picked me up. Greatly relieved, I asked him if he was a Christian. He replied, “I don't know I'm a Lutheran!”. My chickens had come home to roost! I truly love you all, BUD.
Date: Friday, December 7, 2001 7:00 p.m.
I went to High School from 1947 to 1951. In those days we could worship our Triune God in school, and we did. Every Easter week we would have a different Pastor or Priest to lead off our school day. We would all file into our auditorium to hear a Baptist, Methodist, Lutheran, Pentecostal, Catholic or some other Christian lead us in an Easter worship service. I had to ask myself, “If they all tell the same story why do we have so many different Christian denominations?”
So when I went to college I decided, as part of my advanced education, to go to a different church each Sunday. Thus I did, and after college I was still asking myself the same question!
My next step in life was to enter the United States Air Force. As most of you know the military chapel program ISSUES you a Chaplain like it issues you a drill Sergeant! So with each Chaplain wearing the same uniform it was difficult to tell from which seminary they graduated. However, usually, the Chaplains, in due time, would let you know their denominational preference. I liked each one no matter what Base I was assigned to perform duty.
Basically I remained a Lutheran. After I retired and moved from place to place I found myself teaching Sunday School in various churches (just about all the different Protestant ones at one time or another).
Then I became a Bible Smuggler, and my “Function in the Body” was to be a soldier in the front lines. Smuggling with Brother Andrew's organization out of Hong Kong into China was my first assignment. I will tell more about that as we go along.
Sometime later I was eating raw oysters out on a balcony over hanging the Florida Gulf Coast shoreline when a man also with a platter of oysters came up and asked if he could join me. It was a beautiful sun shinny day, and I said, “Yes”. While eating he asked what I did in life, and I told him about my Smuggling. He said, “That's wonderful!” Then He asked, “For what denomination?” I replied, “None, I am a generic Christian.” “Why that's really wonderful” he exclaimed. So I inquired about his preference. I was totally surprised because he told me he was an “Atheist”. I just had to ask him why he thought it was WONDERFUL that I was a Bible smuggler, and why he thought it was REALLY WONDERFUL that I was an ordinary Christian. The point he made was that Christians fight among each other so much that they disprove there is really a GOD OF LOVE. Well, it's time to close. I truly Love you all, BUD.
Date: Saturday, December 8, 2001 3:21 p.m.
Once I was quite rich. I owned 12 houses, 8 pieces of land, and a 4 unit apartment house. I decided to sell it all even though these properties were increasing at a rate of about 16% per year. I gave the profits to churches and a home for unwanted children. When I told my ex-wife that I was down to only $22,000 and soon that would also be given away she asked, “Aren't you going to give your children any portion of that?” I decided she was right, So I called my children, grandchildren, and son-in-law in and divided the remaining amount appropriately. When I finished I only had a few dollars in my pocket.
The next day was Sunday and my Pastor at St Paul's Lutheran in Cullman, Alabama gave a sermon “on the young rich man”. When he told the portion where Jesus told the man to sell all he had, give it to the poor, and follow Him, I thought to myself, “that is what I have done”. So when the collection plate came I put in my remaining cash. After the collection plate was gone the lady sitting beside me, whose name was Joan Messersmith, gave me $10.00 and said this is for Russian Bibles. You see, everyone knew I was soon to make my first smuggling trip into Russia. Her gift to me, sitting there without a penny to my name, was a message from God telling me not to worry about funding for me to do His work.
A few days later my retirement check came. Since I had already dedicated all my income to Jesus, I gave my new car to a very poor woman who was trying to provide for both her invalid parents by working double shifts (16 hours a day) as a waitress. I also purchased one year's car insurance for her. She is a Pentecostal. That left me with $69.00 in my pocket and $600 which I put in an envelope.
It was just a day later, the 4th of October 1989, that I put on my backpack with 25 Russian Bibles and 52 Russian New testaments and started out the door. I knew I had the cash in my pocket, but I couldn't remember the whereabouts of the $600. I went back into my son's house and I searched. As I looked I began to panic, as I panicked, I began to cry, as I cried, I started to gasp for air. I was in a terrible state because I was thinking to myself, “How can I go to Russia on only $69.00! Then I thought, “With God, all things are possible.” My breath returned, I stopped crying, and I departed on my mission. I'll tell you more of this trip's story later.
Today, December 8th, 2001 (12 years later) I own no house, no car, no TV and no VCR. Christians give me shelter, a car to drive and I have a suitcase of cloths. I am no longer quite rich. Now, I am extremely wealthy! I truly love you all, BUD.
Date: Tuesday, December 11, 2001 5:10 p.m.
Yes, I walked out the door with my backpack on and my first stop was at a local diner. I had invited Betty to eat breakfast with me - when I thought I could pick up the tab with no problem! Now, I was a bit worried because I knew the bill plus tip would be $23.00. I didn't want to tell her my financial status. I felt that would be wrong. Perhaps I was testing God - something we are not to do! In any event, He was, of course, faithful to me. Betty paid our debts and tipped our waitress. She loaded me up in her car and took me out to I-65, dropped me off at the Cullman exit, and we said our “Good-byes”. Now, I could say I was officially leaving Alabama.
I was picked up by a Christian who was a World War II vet and he took me to Birmingham. He was interested to hear I was on a Bible smuggling trip to Russia without a Visa! I had tried to get one at both Russia consulates in Washington and San Francisco with no success at either. It was with faith that I started out. I thought that perhaps I could get a visa in Tokyo. I had read in the newspaper that Russia had opened up its Far East and so that was where I had planned to go. You see, being in the Bible smuggling community for sometime I knew all the big organizations were smuggling into the Russian west (Moscow area). My driver dropped me off and I awaited my next ride.
I had Lyme disease, was quite weak, and after standing there three hours was very thirsty. Along came Paul with his 18-wheeler. He was as black as any Afro-American could be; but his teeth, as he smiled broadly, were the whitest I'd ever seen. He was a wonderful Christian. He had a big cross displayed on his truck's grill He stopped his truck, blocked traffic, got out to open a special door for my backpack, got back in while all the cars behind honked their horns. Then we took off. He did all this for a White Guy! He explained the reason he picked me up was he knew how difficult it was to get a ride at the spot I was standing. He took me to a place on the east side of the Birmingham outer beltway where it would be easier to get another ride going south. So our Lord sent me two Christians.
After three more hours, and now greatly thirsty, I began to pray. “Please Lord send me another ride.” The location where I was standing was very isolated with not even a gas station in sight. The thought did come to me that perhaps He had someone special in mind. Finally a young college student picked me up. I have forgotten his name, but he was not a Christian. We talked about Jesus, and I told him that someday he would have to make a decision about whether or not Jesus brought us saving grace. I suggested he do a research paper the same way he would in college and I had a new New Testament with me which I gave to him to help him get started. When we said good-bye I still needed another ride and I wondered who God would send me next!
After another hour Ralph came along. He told me he could only take me 10 miles. I needed a 70-mile ride to Maxwell Air Force Base, but I told him I'd take any ride I could get. He asked the usual questions about his passenger and when I gave him all the details of my journey I asked him if he was a Christian. He began to weep! After a moment or two I said, “It's tough being a Christian.” He replied, “Yes, I have been a Confessed Believer for over a year now. I have six brothers and sisters and my parents are still living. I am an outcast in my own family, as none of them believe. Not too long ago I was visiting one of my sisters. We were drinking coffee in her kitchen when in walked one of our brothers. He said, 'I see our stupid Christian is here! ' I just had to get up and walk out.”
I asked Ralph if he had been praying about this, I meant as to what he should do. He said, “Yes”. So I told to him that our Lord had put us together in answer to his prayers. Then I made a suggestion to him. I thought he should go to his congregation and tell them his problem. He should ask them to become his family. The elders being his Uncles, the adults being his brothers and sisters, and the children being his nieces and nephews. He should tell them to not let him be alone on Thanksgiving and Christmas. I told him other things. Then I thought and said, “Ralph, haven't we gone 10 miles yet? Where are you taking me?” “Yes, more than 10 miles. I'm taking you all the way to Maxwell!” he said. For some reason I wasn't thirsty any more!
At the gate to the Base the Airman gave Ralph instructions on how to get to the Air Terminal. When there we got out of the car and prayed together. I quoted the verse where Jesus told his disciples to give a blessing to those who take them in and I told Ralph my blessing for him was that all his family would someday turn to Christ.
We parted. I never saw him again.
From: Church Office
Date: Wed 12/12/01 10:30
To: Bud Morlock
Subject: RE: “SILENT PANIC”
Hi Bud,
Several of your stories have brought tears to my eyes. Keep writing, we surely see the work of The Lord in what you have experienced.
In case you want to revise your stories for further publication here are two spelling corrections: Testament and truly
Dave got the Church Council to include Project Little Lamb in the benevolence budget for 2002!
Take heart, you are not forgotten.
Love,
Sally
Date: Wednesday, December 12, 2001 2:57p.m.
And so to continue: After saying good-bye to Ralph outside the Air Terminal at Maxwell Air Force Base I went inside to check on my chances of catching a flight to the west coast. Being retired military I can do that if there is a spare seat and the flight is not carrying any dangerous cargo. One catch; I travel “LAST CLASS”. All others come before me. This factor comes to bear later on.
Well, there were no westward bound flights so I took the dispatcher's advice and signed up for an early evening flight to Eglin AFB, Florida. We had for the first time in my life on either a military or civilian flight a female Captain. It was OK with me because I look upon females as capable in just about all fields. I also knew she would not be sitting there if the Air Force had not trained her well. Having completed that same training myself, I knew she had been trained well. Actually, I was proud of her. She landed us in Florida at about 10 p.m.
I decided not to check into the barracks, which cost $9.00 per night, but sleep on the terminal floor after eating a $2.00 snack.
Early in the morning I heard a sound. I peaked out of my sleeping bag and saw a female sitting nearby. She was black and a Navy Seaman. She was probably uncomfortable there with this BUM sleeping near by so I got up and rolled up my bag and put it away.
This is what I found out about her. She wanted to travel to New York and she had been sleeping in the ladies rest room until the cleaning woman forced her out. She was Baptist and proud of me and my mission.
At 6 a.m., a sergeant came in and opened up his counter. He announced that he only had one flight going to New York. The woman and I both wanted to go on it. I, because I knew I could go west easier from there than I could from this little base in Florida. There was only one problem! There was only one seat available! Being that she was on active duty she had higher priority than I. But, there was one other problem!
She would get the seat, but only to Washington DC where she would have to get off! The flight had been set up to transport a General from Washington to New York. The Seaman asked the Sergeant, “How will I get to New York?” He said, “Take a bus.” She replied, “I can't, I haven't any money.” Then he said, “Well, take a bus back to your Navy Base.” Then she said, “You're not listening to me. I haven't any money!”
It was then that I realized that I wasn't listening to her either. She had been sleeping in the rest room. She had NO MONEY. At that moment she was kneeling on the floor zipping her bag closed and I knelt down beside her and gave her $20.00. She said, “I can't take that. I know your story. You've got very little money.” I said, “But I know your story and you have no money. Take it. You're my sister and I love you.” I hugged her, and while she hugged me back she said, “You're my brother, and I love you.” The Sarge didn't know what to think about these two lovers, so he told her to get ready to board the plane. Half an hour later I heard her plane take-off.
Later a flight came in that was to return to St Louis. I got on it. However, to my surprise it landed en route at Birmingham! I could have just waited a day and saved all that hardship. I could have just gotten on at Birmingham. But do you know? I don't think that was God's plan. He made me much richer in all those adventures.
We got into Scott AFB (St Louis) at about 9 p.m. and there were no westbound flights until the next morning. I signed in for it. Note: In this system, if there is only one seat for two or more people traveling in the same class the one who signs in first gets the seat. (This, also comes into play later on in this story) Again, I choose to sleep on the floor, but a sign nearby said it was prohibited so I went outside to look for a bedroom! About two blocks away I found a hanger. I went in and slept with the airplanes.
On the next day, my third day of travel, I flew to Travis AFB, California. I don't exactly remember how much money I had at that point, but the man sitting beside me gave me $10.00.
As I write here I can look out the window. Snow is gently coming down. It has been at minus 10 degrees here in Anchorage for the past week, but now it's above zero at about plus 10. As it is only nine days until the shortest day of the year, my heart knowing this, is filling with joy. However, I am tired so I'll turn off the computer.
It was my plan to get us to Russia today, but I guess not our Lord's, maybe tomorrow.
I love you all, BUD.
Date: Friday, December 14, 2001 12:47 p.m.
I can guess that only one or two of you are reading these episodes. If you are please tell me. I know my son is reading them and Ted and Sally. If you are reading them please let me know - if they help it is worth while. Just click on “Reply All”,
And so to continue:
We arrived at Travis AFB at 4 p.m. and I signed in for the next flight out to Japan. The Airman told me that would be at 10 a.m. the next day, which was Sunday! I didn't want to miss the morning worship service so I went out to find the Base Chapel. Lyme disease was taking its toll on me and I was extremely weak. I could hardly walk. At the Protestant Chapel I found out the first service was at 10 a.m.! I was in much pain.
Being a guy who loves to have his cake and eat it to I wanted to go worship our Lord and make the flight too. So I set out to find the Catholic Chapel. It was six blocks away. The pain was terrible and that meant a nine-block walk back. However, I was rewarded. There would be a 6 a.m. service.
Upon my return to the Air Terminal I ate and crawled into my sleeping bag behind some benches. I was up in time to attend Mass and return for the flight Check-In. At the Check-In I found 65 people wanting seats. There were 96 seats available. I thought, “How wonderful”, but I prayed, “Lord, please give me a seat.” Then they started the seat assignment process. After 36 seats were assigned one knowledgeable fellow asked, “How many seats do you have left?” The young female Dispatcher replied, “just ONE!” I questioned, “Just one?, there should be 29!” The fellow standing beside me said, “Many of those who went before us had wives and children down in the Nursery”. JUST ONE, and then I thought about my “Down and Dirty Prayer”. If only I had prayed more sincerely.
When those remaining heard that announcement they all got up and started for the door. The young Airman still had one seat left so I went up and gave her my sign-in receipt. Then another fellow did the same thing so I had a 50150 chance until our gal announced, “Doesn't anyone else want to try for the seat?” I was thinking, “NO, NO, NO”, but eight more would be passengers stepped forward - 10 in all.
As she sorted through the receipts I again thought about my prayer, but it was already too late for another as she was now holding up the prized piece of paper. She opened her mouth to speak, but when she did I heard a strong man's voice. He said, “Who is Morlock?” I got the LAST SEAT. Surely, I thought, I heard the voice of God.
We landed at Hickham AFB after dark, and I just couldn't sleep on a floor again, so I checked into the barracks. My seat was to Japan so I reported in on time and we flew to Yokota Air Base.
Once I had my feet on the ground in Japan I checked my billfold. I had $1.00.
I love you all, Bud.
Date: Saturday, December 15, 2001 4:03 p.m.
Yesterday was my birthday, age 69. I never thought that age 70 would be significant to me, but it has become so. Getting caught in quicksand, nearly running out of fuel over the Pacific, falling off a fence hitting my head on a stone sidewalk, falling from a second story barn landing flat on my back, and surviving two head on car wrecks has made me think two things. One: I'll never live to be 70 years old. Two: God is protecting me for works He has for me to do. Such a conflict of ideas!
And so onto Russia:
Yesterday I told you we stopped at Hickham AFB en-route to Japan. Hickham is in Hawaii. Yokota AB is near Tokyo, Japan. You all probably knew that, but I felt that I should explain should there be any questions.
On arrival in Japan I was met by Betsy; a Lutheran missionary from Cullman, Alabama; the city I departed from on this journey. She and her husband gave me shelter. They had a kitchen, bedroom, and living room. I slept in the latter on the floor until I got my visa into Russia. It was a three day tourist visa. Praise the Lord. I was going in!
It was Betsy who gave Project Little Lamb its name. We had just finished eating and reading the scriptures ~ John 21. I mentioned that I was only one man and could only carry in 75 scriptures at a time while Andrew of “Open Doors with Brother Andrew”, an international Bible smuggling organization, had operations “Rainbow” and “Manna:” each delivering thousands of Bibles at a time. In John 21 Jesus asked Peter three times if he loved Him and after John replied each time Jesus said, “Feed my Lambs”. ' So Betsy's logic was that I was, in a little way, feeding our Lord's sheep - thus Project Little Lamb.
Finally, in late October of 1989, I landed at Kharbarovsk, a city in the Russian Far East. I only knew five words of Russian, but Jesus took care of everything. He found me a bus to my hotel, food to eat, and an English speaking tour guide to take me to the only church she knew of. It was Sunday.
The Territorial Bishop was just finishing the service when he was told an American had Bibles for the people. It was still in the days of Communism, but he invited me up to the altar. I told the people that we Americans knew about the Iron Curtain and that we prayed for those of them who were behind it. Some began to cry. Then I told them how God helped me bring them this Holy literature. Even more began to cry. I was greatly touched. Then I explained that I had only planned to do this once, but now I had decided to smuggle more Bibles to them; that, in fact, I would give them one year of my life doing this. We all cried together.
I love you all, Bud.
PS Later I found out the Bishop was a Major in the KGB (Secret Police)! Needless to say I got caught the next time I arrived in Kharbarovsk with Bibles.
Date: Monday, December a7, 2001 2:50 p.m.
Before leaving Niigata, Japan with 220 Russian Bibles and New Testaments I called a real Bible smuggling professional in Australia. Her name was Janis John and we had worked out of Hong Kong together going into China. We had, in the past, a high level of competition going on between us to see who could be the most successful.
I told her I would be going through Russian Customs in four hours and I asked her to pray for me because I had told our Lord that if He wanted me to be caught it would be worth it for me to glorify His Kingdom. I was ready to be caught. She told me her whole church would be praying for me. They had a prayer alert system.
Well, in four hours I was going through customs and my inspector's name was Natasha. She asked me if I had any books, magazines, or newspapers! I told her I didn't have any magazines or newspapers! So she inquired about books. I couldn't lie. I admitted to having books. She took them.
The next day in a coffee shop I met a young girl named Sveta and her newspaper reporter friend, Andre. They asked me what I was doing in their city. It was not a secret any more so I told them. Andre put my story in his newspaper “The Far East Youngman”.
Since foreigners could only stay in one hotel in Kharbarovsk everyone knew where to find me. So guess who came to see me? An Adventist Pastor, two Baptist Pastors, and a Pentecostal Pastor! All four had underground churches. It was still in the days of Communism - they needed Bibles, and they all invited me to come worship with them. Later I was able to take them Scriptures and meet with their congregations, but at that moment my Bibles were sitting in Customs out at the Airport!
As it was, I soon found myself, in my room, praying for the return of my Bibles. I had worked too hard to get them here (From Hong Kong via Japan and on to Russia, but that will be another story tomorrow) and I wanted to deliver them into the hands of Believers. When I finished my prayer I opened my Bible for conformation. As I read I turned the page and the words jumped out at me, “He shall feed His sheep like a Shepherd.” My organization was Project Little Lamb, I didn't have to do anything. Jesus would feed the sheep. He would get the Bibles back for me. I wouldn't have to do anything.
That is how it was. I received a phone call there in my room. The hotel receptionist told me to come downstairs - there was a car waiting for me - it would take me to the Airport.
To my surprise there was another news reporter and an Orthodox Priest waiting in the car for me. The man's name was Yuri and the Priest's name was Peter. There was one hitch! I had to give all the Scriptures to the Priest. I didn't mind.
Yuri spoke excellent English. We became good friends and went on many riverboat rides to his favorite fishing holes. He told me funny jokes.
The Priest and I became even closer. To overcome the problems that were looming on the horizon for missionaries in Russia I decided to join the force from which the problems were being emitted. I was baptized an Orthodox and Peter participated in it by becoming my Godfather. This opened many doors for me, and as Paul was a Roman citizen and thus avoided many arrests, I was now Orthodox and slipped around from village to village baptizing in the name of our Lord (1,402 in all).
I guess that is enough for today. Tomorrow I will tell you how Jesus gave me my Private Jet to travel in. I love you all, BUD.
Date: Wednesday, December 19, 2001 11:55 am
Twice I've tried to send you this interesting story .The first time, after typing and composing with my two “pinkies” for almost 2 hours. A window popped up and said, “Due to a Microsoft internet power outage your current project has been lost.”
That was yesterday. I didn't have the heart to redo it. Today, after working about an hour and 10 minutes - trying to recapture the drive and enthusiasm to tell this story I accidentally hit the wrong button and either erased all my work or sent it off to you! Now, I'll take a rest for the day and I'll retry tomorrow. Maybe Jesus doesn't want this story told! We'll see. I love you, Bud.
PS. I know I asked you to click “REPLY ALL” when responding to me, but now I ask that you just chick “REPLY”. (BUT PLEASE REPLY.) I truly do appreciate your input.
Hurray, only two more days until the shortest day of the year! We are down to five hours twenty-eight minutes of sunshine. I sure am happy I don't live UP NORTH in Fairbanks!
Date: Wednesday, December 19, 2001 4:12p.m.
In between my first two trips to Russia I found a lull in my activities so I thought I'd try to return to Hong Kong and do more “Courier Work” for our Lord. I mean taking in more “Loaves” of the Bread of Life into China.
At the time I was in Japan. I heard that the Navy had flights to Hong Kong and since I was still low on cash I thought I'd go via military air. I took a train from Niigata to Atsugi Naval Air Station. Once there I nearly fainted when the Seaman Clerk told me they only had one flight every six months! However, I quickly revived when he told me he had a flight in two days.
It was Saturday so I went to see the Station Chaplain. I asked him if I could deliver the next day's sermon. He wasn't much interested, but he gave his Sunday school class to me and reasoned that I could “Sing for my supper” and have their donations. I received about $200.
Early Monday we loaded aboard our plane and were off at the break of day! The aircraft was loaded with women and children and me. “Strange”, I thought.
About three hours after take-off we started to make a landing at Kadena Air Base, Okinawa. The pilot announced the plane would be refueled and that we must go inside to the Snack Bar.
It wasn't long and I heard, “Will the passenger going to Hong Kong please report to the Departure Gate”! Where they talking about me??? I guess so.
We were soon in the air and at twenty-four thousand feet. When the plane leveled off I thought I'd take a tour of this empty aircraft. I found the cockpit and asked the pilots what was going on. They told me all those other passengers lived on Okinawa and that was the reason for the stop. I was beginning to think I had a private jet to Hong Kong when they told me the trip was to pick up the Navy Band.
When we parked in front of the Hong Kong Terminal a Seaman came out to meet us. Our pilot told him to send out the Band. He said, “Captain, didn't anyone tell you the band left yesterday on an unscheduled flight. You came for nothing.” How our Lord works in mysterious ways - I did have a private jet after all!
In Jesus Love, BUD.
Date: Thursday, December 20, 2001 2:46 p.m.
My last episode left off with my arrival in Hong Kong. Of course, I headed straight for the Men's dormitory and office of “Open Doors”. Upon arrival I was greeted by the staff and assigned to a room with an empty bunk.
The next day I started the first of a few trips into China. On the third trip I found that I was down to only $6.00. That trip was to be an over night boat ride up the Pearl River. When I got to the end of the trip I was caught entering with my Bibles. They did nothing to me. I bought some lunch and returned on the same over night boat to Hong Kong.
After taking the subway to the dormitory I was “BROKE” with no money at all. I went into the office and for some reason looked into the mail basket. I really didn't expect any mail as I hadn't been there long enough for mail to arrive from the US. But, Lo and Behold, there was an envelope with my name on it written with a brown lead pencil! It had $100 in it. No name or clue who it was from except the brown lead writing. I looked for the pencil, but I couldn't find it. Then I looked into our mission report basket and I found a report filled out that day by a couple from Australia who use that pencil. I tried to find them, to thank them, but they had already left for their homeland. Thank you, Jesus. I could eat some dinner that night.
The next day I met Mr. Lee, a Korean/American who had his own smuggling organization into North Korea and China. He was quite interested in me and my work in Russia. He suggested we go to the Hong Kong Bible Society to see if we could find any Russian Scriptures. We did - 80 Bibles and 140 New testaments! He bought them for me.
Those scriptures, it turned out had been sitting there 40+ years. A mass evacuation of Russians into China was the cause of their purchase by the HKBS. Each page of each book had turned yellow and each cover had mildew on it, but they were the 220 books that I took into Russia on my second trip.
Do you know what??? The Navy gave me another private jet ride back to Japan!
I have never returned to Hong Kong. In Jesus name, I love you all, BUD.
Date: Tuesday, December 18, 2001 2:41 p.m.
Galena Petroevna
Mayor of Novokurovka
Kharbarovsk Territory
Russia
18.12.01
To my dear friend Galeya,
It has been one year and sevens weeks since the government of Russia forced me to return to America and of course the same length of time since I've seen you. However, I have not forgotten you, my God-children Katya and Ira, the people and all the children of Novokurovka, or my home by the hill. Novokurovka became my home and I became 100% Novokurovski.
I have spent everyday, using every mental skill, to find a way to return. Perhaps, for now it is not God's plan. But I want to tell you how much richer my life has been for my having lived there with you.
A poor American, as I am, is a rich millionaire when living in a poor Russian village. The Bible says I as a Christian must help poor people whenever I meet them. So I tried: feeding 106 children everyday, providing heat in the cold winter for the school and hospital, repairing the water wells and sidewalks, making repairs at the airport and the village auditorium.
The problems I gave you were many because every villager needed and wanted food, cloths, medicine, cigarettes and vodka. I could not sort out the good needs from the bad needs as fourteen to sixteen people came to my door everyday asking, asking and asking.
My poor Russian language skills added much to my problems because everyone thought I understood what they were saying to me, when I did not. They thought I was being deceptive and was trying to avoid conversation, thus being discourteous. It was always a bad situation.
Many were willing to work and so at times I had eight to ten people working in my yard. This made all my neighbors think I was too lazy to work for myself. I found out this was true because once when no one was near I picked up some tree limbs that had fallen to the ground during the night's storm. As I walked across my yard with my arms full of limbs an old grandmother saw me as she walked by. She yelled out to me, “GOOD BOY, BUD”! She couldn't believe that I was willing to work. She never knew my youth.
God trained me as a child to live in a cabin in a village. At age 12 I had to carry water to my home from the distant well. I had to hoe in the garden and I had to use the outside toilet when the temperature was minus thirty degrees. Yes, He trained me to be a missionary in our poor village.
One day two women came to my door wanting work. I had no work for them. So I stepped outside to see if I could find something for them to do. When I saw my outside toilet I gave them paint and told them to go to work. I know it was “the joke of the day” as it was the only painted toilet in the village.
Another “joke of the day” was when “Beeda” looked at all the work going on. The white painted fence, the green grass (the only yard with grass) and gravel stone sidewalk, and said, “Bud, you want a Little America!” I never thought about it, but maybe it was so.
Also, I know the Territorial government officials caused you many problems because you helped me as you could. They accused you of accepting large sums of money from me, which I never offered you; and I know you never would have accepted if I had. I should have given you money: One, because you deserved it; and Two, the officials because of their greed, could never believe there was one honest village mayor in their Territory anyhow.
Dozens of people have asked me, “Bud, why Novokurovka?” I tell them because the Mayor there loves the children just as I do, and we work together like “a hand in a glove” to make life better for them.
We worked together fighting SATAN. You were my General and I was God's soldier. Many evenings I would go up the hill by my home and pray for you and my little sheep. I was their shepherd and they were my Lambs. As the sun would be setting I'd look at the western horizon and I would see Satan and his army coming. I would stand up and I would yell out across the plains to him, “No, Satan, not Novokurovka. I am here. I am God's Centurion and behind me is my Army of hundreds of American Christians. Go back to Hell, Satan. Leave us”, and he would go.
Galeya, you are not only the Mayor of a little village you are God's holy Angel.
May God bless you, my General. Your friend, Bud Morlock.
Date: Monday, December 31, 2001 5:06 p.m.
The last episode was the greatest letter I ever wrote. After I sent it out to you I printed a copy and took it to Olga Ipatova, here in Anchorage. I asked her to translate it into Russian. She did so, and at present has departed for Novokurovka to hand carry it to Galeya Petroevna. Before she left she handed a finished copy to me and explained. “Buddy, This is the finest translation I have ever done. It should be put in a book someplace,” I said, “Padruga (Friend), It already has!”
At this time I'll give you some information which may answer some questions for you.
I'll divide my life up into sections so you'll be able to identify which of my episodes fit into which section.
Section 1 - Childhood, High School and College. 1932-1954
Section 2 - United States Air Force. until 1974
Section 3 - Bible smuggling into China, Cuba, Mongolia and Russia, until 1994
Section 4 - The “Silent Panic” (living in Novokurovka). until November 2000
Section 5 -The present and future
You probably wonder, “why has Bud skipped around so.” I don't know myself except I always pray first that our Lord will lead me in this endeavor. I want to write as He would have me.
Two days ago I received my umpteenth Chinese visa. On or about the 11th of January I will depart for China. While there I will be printing close to 100,000 pieces of Christian literature in Chinese, Russian, and Korean.
Please pray for me as I plan my first smuggling trip into North Korea. Twice before I've tried to get a visa to NK, but they just don't let folks in easily. I wonder if it will be different this time.
I know where there is a computer in China so we can keep in touch.
In Jesus Love, Happy New Year, Bud.
Date: Thursday, January 3, 2002 3:01 p.m.
Yesterday, New Years Day, I was bored so I drove up to Houston, Alaska to share some time with my friends Tom and Rachel. The trip was rewarding for me as the fellowship picked up my dead spirits.
As I drove away I noticed my gas gage was reading low, but because a good Christian friend always lends me this car when I return from overseas, I felt I knew well enough that I could return to Anchorage without stopping for fuel.
As I drove westward the sun was setting behind the city's skyline and I estimated I was about 20 miles from the next gas station when the low fuel warning light came on! I began to feel a bit uneasy. It reminded me of the time I was flying a C-130 from California to Hawaii.
It was also the same time of year. Our crew had been sitting, waiting, and itching to make this flight for 30 days. The strong winter winds at high altitude was what prevented us from going. However, there came a day when the weatherman said, “GO”.
To make as many things in our favor as possible we “topped off” each of our four fuel tanks to the top of their necks while sitting at the end of the runway. Then we started our engines and departed.
Once at altitude and at a maximum distance cruising speed I turned on the Auto-pilot, and jumped into a cup of coffee! We had computed an eight-hour fight with ten hours of fuel. A transport pilot's life is tough! However, it has been described as “hours and hours of sheer boredom interjected with moments of stark terror”.
It was about an hour after we passed the “Point of no Return” (Which means if we were to turn around and head back we would not have enough gas to make it) that Jerry, our navigator, passed me a note saying the head winds were getting stronger and he would keep me advised of any changes.
After about 30 minutes he passed up another note telling me we didn't have enough fuel to make Hawaii! He advised we would have to “ditch” in the Pacific Ocean about 100 miles from shore. It would be a night landing in the water which had been reported to have 50 foot waves. It would be sure death. I announced all this to the crew, and we just sat there looking out the window, saying nothing.
It was then that it occurred to me that there was an island southeast of our destination that had a runway. It would mean we must turn south immediately. This would be good as our head wind would become a cross wind and even though both airports were equal distance from our present location we might have enough in our tanks to make the southern most one. I turned.
I asked Jerry for an accurate heading and time en-route to this possible haven. The heading would be 198 degrees and it would take an hour and ten minutes to get there. Mike, our engineer, calculated we had an hour and ten minutes of “flying time” left in our fuel tanks! It would all be up to God!
It was about two hours later as I floated in the water (on my back) that I looked up at a bright full moon that I thanked HIM for once more saving my life. I was in a motel swimming pool!
And it was one day about 35 years later, that in my Russian village I asked God, in prayer, “Why have You saved me so many many times from sure death?” No reply came from out of the “BLUE”. However, a few days later I read John 15:16. It says in part, “You did not choose Me, I chose you to go and bear lovely fruit”. Then it goes on to say, “what ever you ask the Father for in my name He will give it to you.”
I was forced out of Russia 14 months ago, and now, at this moment, I pray to God in Jesus' name that He will open the door for me to return to my little village. Please, dear Lord, I earnestly pray.
I love you all, BUD. - By the way, I also made it to Anchorage without walking!
Date: Friday, January 4, 2002 3:35 p.m.
Last night as I laid on my bed, unable to sleep, I thought about Helen. Fourteen years ago she was 74, from England, and a Bible Smuggler for “Open Doors” out of Hong Kong into China. Open Doors always assigned 2 or 3 men to go with her to help carry her bags. Of course, she had to carry her own suitcases crossing the border, going through Customs.
Once I was assigned as one of her escorts. We took the three-hour train ride and on arrival in Canton we sent Helen through first. The plan was always that we go in as singles. I was second.
On the other side, I looked for Helen under “the clock”. It was a huge clock, about 12 feet in diameter. It was mounted on a high tower outside the train station. I found her waiting there.
She was a bit senile and I wanted to make sure she was not there by accident. On later trips she would need to show up at this right spot so I asked her if she could see the clock. “Yes”, she replied. Then I told her, “This is where we are always to meet once we pass through Customs”.
With a bit of a surprised smile on her face she tilted her head back and looked down her nose at me and said, “Young man, I have been meeting under this clock for seventeen years!”
Date: Friday, January 4, 2002 8:45 p.m.
“THE LONE TRAIL”
A portion thereof by
Robert Service
”The trails of the world be countless, and most the paths be tried, you travel on the heels of many, till you come where the way divides, one lays safe in the sun light, the other is dreary and wan, yet you look aslant at the lone trail, and the lone trail lures you on.”
It came to me today that I was leaving out a segment of my Christian mission experience as I present to you this my Photo Album/Autobiography. So I insert it here.
Back in the mid to late eighties I decided to travel to Alaska to tell the summer's swell of “Backpackers” in this great state that if they were seeking Excitement and Adventure in our last frontier they should attend a Christian Church or Chapel somewhere along the way. Who knows what E&A they would experience!
The route I decided on was: Train from Dayton, Ohio to Seattle, Washington, the Alaska Marine Highway (A ferry boat system owned by the state of Alaska) to Skagway, Alaska and then to hitch hike the same routes across the wilderness that the Packers used.
On the MV (Motor Vessel) “Columbia” I departed Seattle. After a day and a half out I had not yet witnessed to a soul! I prayed for help. Then, while lying on my sleeping bag, on the sundeck, I could hear five or six boys talking about a poem Robert Service had written. They were questioning the term “Great sluice head judgement sweeps.” They didn't know what a sluice head was or what a great one would be! Do you?
Well, I'll tell you. It was a famous device used in Alaska during the Gold Rush days to separate the Gold from the dirt. Service, using the term “Great” implied Judgement Day, when the good would go to heaven, and the bad, well, you know about that! I mean where they would go!
That broke the ice and He opened the door for me to witness. Only one of the lads was a Christian. I was able to give them all a little cross and my E&A invitation.
The next day after witnessing to many other “uninformed” I sat and prayed that I'd be given a Christian to make conversation. It was soon that I saw a young woman praying over her noon meal. The first chance I had I approached her and asked, “Are you a Christian?” She said, “Yes”. I told her that I was too, and that I had. prayed “ to meet another Christian.” She said, “You too! I Just prayed for a Christian also.” Later after we arrived at Juneau we said our “Good-byes” and I never saw her again.
I love you all, Bud. PS There will be more of this adventure.
Date: Saturday, January 5, 2002 1:13 p.m.
In Juneau I let the MV Columbia go on without me, and I boarded the MV Taku which was headed for Sitka, Alaska. The Alaska Marine Highway had, at that time, about four or five MVs sailing all the inland passages of the Alaskan southeast, and it was fun to switch for one the another.
In Sitka, I first set up my tent in the camp ground which was next to the Ferry Terminal. Then I enjoyed myself visiting all the things to see; i.e., The museums, the little college, and Totem pole park. In the Park I fed the “Camp Robbers” French fries! A camp robber is a bird that will swoop down into your camp and steal off with a shinny fork or spoon just before you put it away!
It took a couple days to do all that, and as the Taku was about to return I was ready to move on. As it happened I was downtown, and started to hitch hike out to the campground to get my tent and bag.
Standing on a corner with my thumb stuck out for only a few moments a car stopped, and picked me up. The driver was an Alaskan Indian who had just gotten off the night shift at the saw mill. He said he wasn't going as far as the camp ground but that he would take me there! In those days that was known as “The Frontier Spirit”.
As we rode, he took out a jug of wine, took a swig, and passed it on to me. I refused indicating it was too early in the morning for me. He then took another swig and again passed it on to me. I refused again. However, I was afraid I had offended him so when we got to my temporary home and he parked the car I took out some Navajo Indian pictures and showed them to him. I think, he had never been off his island let alone to the “Lower 48”!
I had wanted to ask him if he was a Christian, but had put it off. Finally, as I was getting out of the car, I asked him. His name was Ralph. Ralph surprised me when he said, “Oh, I know all about Jesus, and He is going to kill me! About ten years ago I went to church with my mother every Sunday, but I told Jesus that I was leaving Him for ten years, and if I didn't come back He could kill me. “ “Was ten years up yet?”, I asked. He said he had one more month yet to go. I told him that he was home free. All he had to do was simply go!
He said he had been leading a very sinful life and was sure it would make no difference - he was sure he was about to die. I inquired if he had prayed about it. The answer was, “Yes, but that nothing had happened!” I told him something had, indeed, happened ~ God had put us together and I wanted to tell him a story.
The story is found in the 15th Chapter of Luke.
I was finishing the story by telling him how the lost son was returning to his father when Ralph interrupted me. “Wait” he said, “You're talking about me. “ “Yes, this story is in the Bible. Your mother can show you where.” I replied.
I wanted to know if knowing this he could go back to church. I indicated that I could wait until after the weekend to leave, and that I would accompany him to the worship service if he needed support. He said very strongly, “I'm not afraid of those people. I can go.”
Taking his hand we closed our eyes and I prayed for him. Then, and then, my friends, a very strange thing happened as I opened my eyes. I felt a warm glow allover my body and every thing I looked at had turned to a gold color! The earth was gold. The fence was gold. The tree's limbs and leaves were gold. Everything was gold!
We said our “Good-byes”. He left. I never saw him again.
In Jesus love, Bud.
Date: Saturday, January 5, 2002 6:43 p.m.
So, at last the MV Taku arrived and we departed a few hours later. I started my witnessing almost immediately. Without noticing it a big woman was watching and listening to me from a short distance. When I came to a break she approached me and asked if I planned to stop at Tenakee Springs. It was not planned because I never heard of such a place. As it was, it was our next stop!
She told me that if I would go there she would give me a church and a small apartment to preach in and live in. She explained that she liked the work I was doing and that she was a Senior Catholic Nun (not wearing her habit). It was part of her routine to go to Tenakee Springs each summer for a month to hold worship services there, but this year it wouldn't be possible. I accepted.
This little “burg” was most interesting. I loved it right away. Being a small fishing village and summer retreat for wealthy folks, it was nestled along the shore-line. It had a food store that had a hardware department and a hot spring water steam bath house. Most of all I enjoyed sleeping in a BED.
Since I had made contact with so many packers some of them came by to visit me. The first thing I did was to put up an announcement announcing Sunday worship in the church. There was a bulletin board at the store for such notices. We held two Sunday services.
I stayed there almost two weeks and caught the Taku when it came through again. It was nice to be working with the Catholics. I left her a note on the table telling her so and thanking her for trusting me with their real estate.
My next stop would be Petersburg! As I type this I know eyeballs will light up there tomorrow as many in that fishing town are reading these offerings.
IJL, Bud.
Date: Monday, January 7, 2002 5:49 p.m.
Petersburg, Alaska is a very unique place to visit. It is part of this world, and yet it is so isolated it may as well be on another planet. It is a beautiful town, village or city - what ever you might wish to call it. It has a very distinct Nordic flavor - its founders came from Norway to establish a fish cannery, but they needed timber to do that so they first built a saw-mill. Now they have both.
I arrived there in time for the salmon season and I went to live in “Tent City” where all the migrant cannery workers lived. They were a very tough lot and very un-Christian. It fit into my mission program. However, when the Chief of Police heard I had my tent pitched there he sent an officer up to get me and bring me to him. Once in his office he expressed concern about my welfare and offered me a pistol to carry for protection!
These migrants were, for the most part, in their early to late twenties. Some were older. One older fellow was a very hostile individual who had the same name as his father and his father's father. We'll just call him “The Third”! He, I guess, was in his mid thirties.
There hadn't been any rain for weeks and so there was no work in the canneries. My new friends were very restless, particularly “The Third”. So I guess he decided to entertain himself by attacking me verbally.
I was sitting on a chair when he came up and started making remarks about my association with Jesus. I read once in the Bible that in such a situation we should pray for our Lord to put words in our mouth. So I did and HE did. The discussion was progressing well enough when two young women moved in near us, and one stood on each side of me. It was odd, I felt that God had sent two angels to protect me! “The Third” moved away!
My angels started to ask questions and things were going well when I discovered that they had not worked since their arrival and were very short of cash. So I decided to take them over to the airport, which was just around the bend, and see if I could find them work.
We met an air taxi owner who had two airplanes. His name was Rod Judy. He was a Christian. I asked if he could give my angels work. He could and did - washing his airplanes. It was hard work, but the planes shined when they finished. Mr. Judy paid them well and took them for a plane ride to go see a famous glacier.
Later, I started to attend the Lutheran church there and sang solos during the offerings.
Later than that, I traveled on to Anchorage.
In Jesus Love, Bud.
Date: Tuesday, January 8, 2002 4:02 p.m.
In my fifty-year association with Alaska, and in traveling through Anchorage, at least, as many times, I have only two “photos” that I can chip off the top of my life's iceberg in this locale!
The first was when I was stationed at Elmendorf AFB in about 1967. Our Operations Officer assigned our crew to fly a practice low-level combat mission to the northeast of town.
We were on our return leg when I saw a small lake with a moose trail going down to this water hole. I decided that come hunting season I'd come up here and get me a big one.
It was a two-mile walk from the road to the lake (all up hill). On arrival I found a small group of bushes to hide in and I sat down and waited. As I waited I began to think, if I shot this big 800-pound guy, he'd probably fall into about three feet of water! Who would get him out? Who could get him out without getting soaking wet? I'd have to go in and cut him up into six pieces and haul out each piece separately! Then I'd have to carry each piece down to my truck, a total of 24 miles to get all of him home! I began to think some more. Is this going to be fun?!
My children don't like to eat moose. My wife doesn't like to cook or eat moose. I'd end up eating him myself. Maybe that would be moose every day for two years! So why do this? For fun, for happiness, “yes”, but it wouldn't be either.
I took out my billfold searching for a clue about myself that would give me happiness every time I part took of it. I needed an exception to the “Law of Diminishing Returns”! Something that would work every time I did it, and it would give happiness unendingly. I knew whiskey, cigarettes, drugs or sex could not do it.
I looked at my hunting and fishing permits, my flying license, my driver's license and my club cards. I found no clues. I sat there. The sun began to set, and as it did the thought came to me. “Bud, every time you do something to help someone you feel good. That is surely the exception to a law that says `the more you do something the effect lessens.'”
Soooo... Since that day I started a new way of life, and it was what made me give ALL I HAD to my Lord. (See SILENT PANIC” 7).
I Love you all, BUD.
Date: Wednesday, January 9, 2002 1:43 p.m.
Once there was a time when I returned to Alaska from Russia, and because the Russians had given me so very much trouble I had to wonder if I was serving our Lord correctly and going in the right direction!
So I searched for a way for Jesus to tell me. In prayer, I asked that His face appear to me in a dream if I had been a good servant. I prayed every night for two weeks - nothing happened.
However, I decided to keep on trying to be a good servant, and I was given an opportunity one day as I walked out of Carr's Food Store. At the door I was met by the dirtiest man I had ever seen. It was winter and he was clothed as warm as he could be, but everything he wore was the grimiest. His hair was dirty and his nails were dirtier. He was just plain dirty all over.
He asked me for $10.00 to buy some food. I went the second mile and gave him $20.00. I was looking down when he said, “thank you”, but I looked up to find I was looking into the absolute prettiest crystal clear Blue Eyes that I had ever seen. Immediately I knew I was looking into the face of Jesus! He had done more, as He usually does when we ask for things, and appeared to me in person instead of a dream.
”When you did it unto the least of these, you did it unto me.”
I Love you all BUD.
Date: Thursday, January 10, 2002 3:24 am
Well Hello, It is 2:45 am here in Anchorage and my plane is an hour late. It is a very tiring hour. I wish I could sleep. However, Korean Air has provided me with this computer to play with. So what do I tell you?
How about a couple short notes? First, when I was less then five years old in Cleveland, Ohio I was walking on a picket fence when my pant leg caught on a spike. I tumbled downward and hit my head on the stone sidewalk. The next thing I knew I was opening my eyes on my parent's bed. They told me I was out more than an hour! I think it almost unbelievable how many times our Lord has brought me through such accidents with no injury let alone a serious injury!
When I was twelve I was playing with my sister and cousins in my uncle's barn when I fell out a second story opening and landed flat on my back on a piece of pipe. I was knocked out again. When I woke on my uncle's living room couch everyone in the room was praying for me. Again no injury at all!
In high school, after football practice, I was hitchhiking home when Jack and his girlfriend, both seniors in my school, picked me up. We were heading east when a fellow who was going into the setting sun fell asleep at the wheel, and came across the road and hit us head on. The three of us were all sitting in the front seat. We suffered a few cuts but that was all! What can I say?
When I was in the Air Force I was driving my car from Jackson, Mississippi to the Gulf Coast. As I approached the crest of a hill I found a young girl passing a truck in my lane! Again, a head on crash. This time I shattered the windshield, but you guessed it - no injuries! My car totally destroyed. Amen.
I Love you all, Bud.
Date: Thursday, January 10, 2002 2:43 p.m.
At present .I am .in the International Airport. It's 8:15 AM. I've just flown 8 plus hours and in doing so we flew a very short distance from my home in Russia. I was wishing we would lose an engine or two and would have to make an emergency landing at Kharbarovsk! Wow, would folks there be surprised to see me! Oh well, maybe on the way back to Anchorage. I'll pray about it!
In two hours it will be on to Shenyang, China.
Note to Mike: Tell my grandson I just sent him some postage stamps from Korea.
Jeff, Tell Bekah I just sent her some Korean money.
Dave, In trying to read your attachment I lost it. My system is not set up for attachments.
I Love you all, Bud.
Date: Thursday, January 17, 2002 2:43 p.m.
Here in Dan Dong I've prayed and I know all of you have prayed that I get into North Korea. Well, He answered with a “YES” but in a most unusual manner. Cynthia, her husband, Luke and I arrived by train (4-1/2 hour ride) and checked into a hotel. Then we searched for a Korean church. You see Dan Dong is about a “3 wood” distance (across the Yalu River) from North Korea, and many Koreans live here. We surmised that there must be a gathering place for Korean Believers, and there is. After asking around, we found a taxi driver who knew where it was.
We met the Pastor and gave him all the literature I had brought from Korean churches in Alaska. He took us to a travel agency a Korean man owned to see if he could help me get a tourist visa into NK. After 90 minutes and perhaps 90 phone calls the man concluded there was no way at present, but a good chance next April! I was quite disappointed. I couldn't sit that long.
When we went outside the travel agency, the pastor asked if we would like to take a 30-minute taxi ride to talk to a NK border guard! I was too sad to be interested said, “No”. Cynthia and the Pastor engaged in conversation as I stood there. In doing so I was touched! I thought, “A border guard - they are all on the other side of the river, or are they!” So we went.
On the way we bought food and milk to give to the guard. The 30-minute ride turned out to be an hour. When we got to the river it was 6 inches deep and 3 feet wide! I jumped across and raised my arms in Victory. Cynthia took my picture. Then two guards came running - blowing their whistles. I jumped back. All was forgiven when we gave them the food.
I took many more pictures and began to plan a midnight raid on North Korea in the future -without a Visa - perhaps!
In Jesus Love, BUD.
Date: Friday, January 25, 2002 4:15 p.m.
Praise Our Lord! Here in Anchorage it is -12 degrees, but the skies are absolutely clear! We haven't had that for months. Also, the days are getting longer at the present rate of 5 minutes per day, and that rate is increasing about 15 seconds per day. So in 4 days our days will be increasing 6 minutes per day. Our days are now 7 hours long and will soon be 8 hours long. You may wonder why I go into such detail. It is because back when our days where only 4 1/2 hours long we were covered by ice fog and that worked out to about 24 hours of darkness! That my friends - is very depressing unless you have children, a wife or a friend and a full-time job!
I want to take the opportunity to thank those who have sent donations to PLL this month already - a total of $6,300 plus. Wow, are we going in the right direction! Thank you. When money comes in like this - which is a record rate - I know He has something special planned - because He never gives us more than we need. I must wonder, what adventure for us is coming up? I use plural - WE do this together.
And so my last notes about China are in order.
As we traveled to the North Korean border I saw a vagrant man (young - about 30 years old) sitting beside the road. I made a mental note to help him should he be there on our return. He was. I told our taxi driver to stop that I wanted to give him some money. He was truly dirty, very long greasy hair, and cloths quite rag tag. The driver, the Korean pastor we were with, and my Goddaughter all agreed that this man would only waste the money, but we stopped and I gave him 100 yuan ($12.00). He couldn't thank us enough. He kept saying “Thank you” over and over. The three said nothing to me. As we drove off I asked Cynthia for her Bible and I looked up 1st John 3:17. When the pastor read it he said, “Amen”. You didn't know I could read Chinese, did you?
One evening here in Anchorage I was going to a concert at the Symphony Hall. As I approached the building a native man approached me and asked for a dollar so he could take the bus home. I gave it to him. As I did a woman who saw me do it said to me, “He will only waste it.”
The woman had on shoes that cost, at least $90.00, a black velvet evening gown, furs were draped around her shoulders, she wore a diamond necklace and earrings. Her hair was done up to the tune of, at least, $60.00; and again I thought of 1st John 3:17, and her remarks. I had to wonder! Who was wasting the most?
1st John 3:17 says, “If you are well off, and you see someone who is poor, and you don't help them you know nothing about the LOVE OF GOD.”
The last two days in China we spent driving around the countryside looking for churches to distribute scriptures. It was like one miracle after another. Each church lead us to another until one church gave us the locations of 12 churches.
So far in the past six months PLL has printed and distributed 128,000 pieces of literature in Northeast China and northwest North Korea.
Now I know why Our Lord has kept me out of Russia. He has had so many, many things for me to do in other parts of the world. Because I have excellent helpers in Russia I am not needed there.
One last thing I want to tell you about China. Because we had so much to distribute it took time to do it all and much of the literature needed to be put some place. Guess where Cynthia found to store it all? Right under the Government's nose in a Post Office!
In Jesus love, Bud.
Date: Friday, January 25, 2002 5:18 p.m.
I just have to feel that our Lord has eminent plans for us in the near future and I had better tie up all the loose ends, and be ready to embark (that's military talk)!
I've been out of Russia fifteen months and He has given me much to do. One thing is to punch out these little stories with my two pinkies. I have about eight more for you.
I do want to try North Korea again, and indications are that it may be possible in early April.
And, perhaps, I should tell you that I've been experiencing significant pain in the area of my prostate gland for the past couple months. However, I have no prostate gland! That went by the wayside almost three years ago. Today, my doctor gives me hope with relation to a little gland about the size of a pea that is located in that same area. He feels a 10-day course of medications will clear it up. This information cheered me up.
Now, I have two short Bible smuggling stories about China that I want to share with you. The first has to do with delivering “The Word” across the Amur River out of Russia into the city of Hei He. I didn't know where there was a church in this city so I just walked around asking Him to lead me. There came a point in my wondering and praying that I found myself standing in front of a bookstore. He knows I absolutely hate to read, but I went in. Why, I didn't know. A clerk came up to me speaking, of course, Chinese. I spoke Russian to him and he understood - thank you Lord - and I asked him for a dictionary in both English and Chinese.
Well, he showed me the biggest and most expensive one he had. I indicated I wanted the smallest and cheapest in stock. We both insisted back and forth, and forth and back, at least, four times. Until Jesus said to me, “Bud, look at the big one!” So I opened the big one to the word “church” and found in Chinese and English “Is there a church around here?” I bought that book, tore out that page, gave the book back to him, and went out on the street.
Immediately a little pedal cab came up and I hired the peddler to take me to the outskirts of town. On the way we showed this little note to old women (less chance of trouble) and soon one gave my man directions to a very little insignificant house. I knocked on the door. An old man with a beard looked out the window. I held up one of the Bibles I had smuggled in, he opened the door, I walked in, I found the smallest church I'd ever seen, and this led me to ten other churches. Later we took in the Jesus Video and bought him a TV and a VCR.
Date: Saturdday, January 26, 2002 8:18 p.m.
Well Hello, This should be the last of the China stories. There are so many I haven't told you, but this will be enough, I guess.
One time I flew into Harbin from Russia. Because smuggling Bibles was not cost effective I only took in two each of four different scriptures. My plan was to print thousands of copies once inside.
I had established a contact with a waitress named Yan Yan who was interested in Jesus and who spoke good English. She was now working at a trading company, but when I went there her boss told me she had moved on to something new. I called her home. Her mother told me she had bought a “COFFEE SHOP” and had gone into business for herself. “How wonderful,” I thought. She was making almost nothing at the other two places. Her mother told me Yan Yan would come to my hotel at noon.
I needed her desperately as I was leaving Harbin at six the next morning, and I wanted her to help me find a printer. I waited until noon. She didn't come. Then two, then four. Still she didn't come. I prayed. I knew our Lord had sent me there to do this printing, but printing shops would soon be closing! Then it was five and the sun was beginning to set. I wondered how we were going to order the printing before it was too late? I knew I needed to bolster my faith. Finally at six she arrived. It was too late, but I invited her in. We sat and drank tea.
I told her what my plan had been. She told me, “Buddy, no sweat I own a COPY SHOP”. Her mother's English pronunciation lead me to believe “COFFEE SHOP”! So with joy in our hearts we went to her shop and got her started. The next morning I flew back to Russia feeling a bit sheepish about my doubts of the previous day.
Later, while out jogging, she found a Catholic church to attend near her home, but she wanted me to baptize her. She didn't want people to know she was a Christian printer. I baptized her in my hotel room and made her the first of three Chinese Godchildren at the same time.
In Jesus love, Bud.
Date: Saturday, January 26, 2002 8:34 p.m.
If ever you are going to travel in a foreign land take a copy of the Bible in that nation's language. Even if you can't speak their language you can witness to them by pointing out verses they can read. You can do this if you know the order of the books, how to use an index (and you do), and be able to count the chapters and verses.
I've done this in China and Russia. It can be effective.
Most Bible bookstores carry Bibles in foreign languages, or will order them for you. In Jesus love, BUD.
Date: Monday, January 28, 2002 5:40 p.m.
I was in Petersburg, Alaska getting treatment for a severe case of Lyme disease when I read in a newspaper that Russia had opened its Far East to tourism. I knew all the big Bible smuggling organizations were working in western Russia So I felt our Lord calling me to “Go East, Young Man Go East”. You already know all about my travels there and about my early smuggling days in that area. That was in the summer of 1998.
When January of 1991 came and Communism fell in Moscow, many missionaries flooded into the country. One Sunday I attended a Baptist church and there were seven missionaries there all wanting to speak. I decided to get out of town and decided to travel over the horizon by air. Because I was short of money I picked the closest village which was isolated by no roads or railroads and air transport was necessary. That was Novokurovka.
My Goddaughter, Sveta (which means light) and I flew in and we met the Mayor. We asked if I could speak at a town meeting. “Yes” was the reply. We spoke at 10 am and handed out New Testaments. At 2 pm we were to hold a baptism service. As we approached the Village House of Culture on Sovietskaya street, we could see people coming from all directions. One young girl, Masha, was hurriedly dragging her little sister up the steps by her hand wanting to be sure she and her little one made the ceremony in time. The look on Masha's face I will never forget, it was full of determination.
By the way, I later found out that almost every village had a House of Culture which was Commonly called “The club”, and every village had a Sovietskaya street!
The mayor was there again and I asked if a vote could be taken to see if the people wanted a church to worship Jesus. Only a couple voted “No”. There had never been a church of any kind there.
The village was over 90 years old, but its name was “New Kur Village”.
That afternoon, in my first baptism ceremony ever, I baptized 68 souls. Wow, how our Lord used me - what a blessing for me!
In Jesus Love, BUD.
Date: Monday, January 28, 2002 6:49 p.m.
I moved into the village in September 1994. The fall colors were just beautiful. None of the homes had paint and each had a high fence around the yard to keep the cows and horses, which roamed the streets at random, from eating the garden produce.
There were about 200 homes, which housed about 450 people. I once counted the empty homes at about 40! You see, poverty had already set in and the population of 1,000 or so had significantly decreased.
Near the center of the town, a little bit on the north side, was a hill with a monument of two World War II soldiers at the top, which the idle children had significantly defaced, Noses and all. The children's lack of entertainment made my home the center of attraction for them. My home was like a “Museum of the Future” for them. They had never seen Scotch tape, a potato peeler (other than a knife), a can opener (other than a knife), Magic Markers, a toaster, or a video camera. How they loved to see themselves on my TV!
However, their poverty and lack of Christian training made my home the daily target for all the young thieves. Thus began a long string of robberies of my home that I stopped counting about six years later at 210!
The next month was October and I had quickly learned that I could not go to the city without having someone sleep in my home. I asked Valery, a man who came to church each Sunday to be the one. He robbed me of two hundred rubles before I left the house! Later, his wife returned it. He had no job, was very poor, and soon became one of the town's leading alcoholics. His wife divorced him and moved away. I never saw him again.
Anyhow, I went to the city, and by chance, in a street market, I found a turkey loaf. I thought. I'll have it for Thanksgiving. Then I found a can of cranberry sauce. Wow, I will really have a good Thanksgiving!
Once back in the village, while I was holding a worship service in the Club, two boys removed the panes of my back bedroom window and raided my home of all food. “There went my Thanksgiving,” I thought.
But as it was, I had a chance to return to the city, and again I found the same two items -what fortune - bring on Thanksgiving!
However, I soon realized that I was to become a prisoner in my own home, because the next time I was out, all my food was taken away again. I ate spaghetti for Thanksgiving.
One curious thing remains. Out of all the times my homes (I lived in two different ones there) were robbed by forced entry through windows, and there were very many, not one glass pane was broken. The panes were always leaned up neatly against the house. I believe it was because glass was so hard to come by there that they took pity on-me, even in their hunger and didn't destroy the materials I needed to keep my home warm, a sort of “thieves honor code.”
In Jesus love, BUD.
Date: Tuesday, January 29, 2002 3:09 p.m.
After I lived in the village a few months I wanted to start an afternoon Bible School for the children. There was a single woman who lived across the street who I had baptized along with her father, mother, daughter, son, and two brothers. She was Christ-orientated, intelligent, and out of work. Since my Russian language skills were quite lacking I hired her to teach me Russian in the morning and to teach the children about Jesus in the afternoon. We had plenty of teaching materials.
Things went smoothly - quite smoothly - as we fell in love! Our marriage went well. We even made a trip to America. While away from the village we hired her brothers to watch our home. On our return we found that the boys sold many of my things for vodka and cigarettes. What kind of people would do this?
My wife's name was Nelli.
Note: Today I received a bulletin in the mail from the Firebird Association. It was announcing the annual reunion to be held in March. It also serves as a newspaper telling all the aircrew members who flew C-130s with snow skis the latest news about their comrades. I was shocked to find out that recently three of my best friends had died of one illness or another. I am 69 years old and so far many of them who would have been my age are gone. I'm too young to die! However, I am ready. Still it is hard to believe they are gone.
It was soon after we were married that Nelli told me how one night thieves went to her garden plot, which was down by the airport, and “harvested” half of all her potatoes. Of course, they didn't give them to her. You must understand that in these villages every garden plot is planned to raise enough food for one year plus enough for seed for the next year's garden. Nelli, at that time, was a single unemployed mother. Yuri, a good friend of mine, told me she was lucky they didn't steal all her potatoes! What kind of people would do that?
Baba (grandma) Olga was a widow of a war veteran and was 82 years old when I found out that thieves stole her ten chickens! As I lived close to Baba I watched her raise them from chicks. Selling eggs was her only real source of income because her pension was so meager. I felt so sorry for her, but you can imagine how I felt when she told me this was the fourth time in a row that this had happened! Every time she got the chicks to adult age they would disappear. Baba had to start raising the chicks in her one room cabin with her! What kind of people would do that?
A woman named Tanya took two young boys with her one night to break into one of our two local food stores. It was 2 am when they were caught stealing vodka and candy bars. The boys, because of their ages, were released, but Tanya was restricted to her cabin until the police could come get her. A week later, friends found her dead. She had hung herself. What kind of people would do that?
One man, I never knew his name, drowned himself in our river because of depression. He had four children and no job. He drank a lot! His eldest son (age about 22) and his wife finished off a bottle of vodka one night and got into an argument. Then the son killed his mother with the empty bottle and raped her. What kind of people would do that?
In Jesus Love, Bud.
Date: Wednesday, January 30, 2002 4:32 p.m.
One Sunday morning, during our worship service, little Katya was leading the congregation in the Apostle's Confession of Faith when she fainted. When the service finished I went to our hospital to check on her. She was asleep.
I talked to a nurse who told me Katya hadn't eaten for three days. She also related that her father had abandon the family of five a few years back and her mother died six months after that. All four children lived with an invalid Baba who was extremely poor. It was no wonder Katya fainted.
At this same time I heard about Raissa losing her job at our clinic and about how her husband who was unable to cope with this disaster hung himself two days later.
As Pastor I went to try and console her. When she saw me at her door she fell into my arms and said, “What will I do, what will I do?” While holding her in my arms I prayed, “Lord, I'm her Pastor. I'm supposed to have the answers!”. He immediately answered, “Bud, You worked in the Anchorage Soup Kitchen. You know Katya; and, at least five other hungry children. You also know that this woman is a Baba and certainly knows how to cook. Buy the food, pay her wages, and the children can read the Bible and pray before each meal.”
Raissa, on hearing our Lord's ideas wiped her tears and said, “Thank you, thank you.”
Feeding the six kids went well, but soon other children started showing up at lunchtime, peering in the windows with their noses pressed up against the pane. They too, were hungry. Soon, we were feeding 12, then over 30, and then over 80. In six months we were feeding 106 children every day. It was killing Satan to see and hear these children read the Bible and pray. His attack commenced!
In Jesus Love, BUD.
Date: Friday, February 1, 2002 5:13 p.m.
One day after our Soup Kitchen for the children was going well, little Katya and her sister came to my door on the way to school and asked for 5 rubles each so they could purchase a sweet roll before their first class. I gave them each 10 rubles so they could buy two each. They had had no breakfast at home.
Soon this became the routine so I told them to come 15 minutes earlier and I'd have a regular breakfast for them. I loved to send them out the door with a hug. I knew with no parents and an invalid grandmother they weren't getting the parental attention children need, the attention I needed when I was their age and didn't get!
One morning Satan was attacking me extra vigorously and I was quite sad. As the girls ate I went outside to sit on the steps. Katya watched me from the kitchen window. When I came in she came over to me and gave me a big hug. I sat down so my eyes were at her eye level, and then I asked her if I was her first love! She said, “No”. She was only 12 years old. I was disappointed until I asked her who was her first love. She replied, “Jesus!” What a victory for our little church and soup kitchen. That was where she learned about Jesus. I was so excited!
Then another day a woman named Sasha told me this little story .She told me that she and her son, Alex, were eating at her sister's home. When the food was placed on the table, Victor, Alex's Uncle, started to reach for his portion. Alex jabbed his uncle in the ribs with his elbow, and said, “Uncle, aren't we going to pray first?” Another victory! Hurray!
Well, the following August I was in the city and fresh out of money. I went to the International Hotel because there was a small teller's window there and I had a Goddaughter who worked that window for the bank. Her name was Vlada. I asked her to come out and take a 15 minute coffee break with me as my remaining 30 rubles would buy two cups of coffee.
So she did, and we drank coffee. I was sad. I had a credit card, but no money to back it up with. I told her I had to close the soup kitchen, and said no more. I was also thinking about the first of September coming around the corner and the thousands of rubles I would also need to send our 19 Christian college kids to school.
We sat there saying nothing, but I was thinking about how I hated to give Satan those victories. I had worked too hard just to throw it all away. We sat there quietly for about 10 minutes. Then I thought about Katya and her “first love” and Alex wanting to pray first before eating. I couldn't end it all. I handed Vlada my credit card and asked for three thousand dollars.
By the end of the year I was sixteen thousand dollars in debt.
I returned to America to raise funds. Traveling from Alaska to California, to Texas, to Alabama, to Illinois and back to Alaska I raised eighteen thousand dollars! Praise Jesus, Katya, and Alex!
In Jesus love, BUD.
Date: Friday, February 1, 2002 6:37 p.m.
Dear Brother Duane, Greetings, I love you. I hear you too have been under Satan's attack. The longer I am home here in America the more I feel our Lord has sent me here for a rest. Take pride and joy in knowing you are worthy as Satan expends most of his efforts on those who serve Jesus with all their might and energy.
In Thornville, Ohio there is a Lutheran pastor named Jeff Morlock! I found him on the net. I've spoken to his congregations. Satan is attacking Jeff through his wife and daughter. Both have been very, very ill, with many, many operations, for years now.
Jeff, the Pastor mentioned above is Duane Feldman. I have spoken to his congregations. His church is Peace Lutheran in Chicago. I love you too.
“...be strong and do not let our hands be weak, for our work shall be rewarded!” - 2 Chronicles 15:7
May our Lord bless you both, BUD.
Date: Friday, February 1, 2002 5:53 p.m.
As I indicated earlier, Satan hated our soup kitchen and so he launched his attack through Raissa our chief cook. She found that she could buy our kitchen's food at our two local stores on credit and on Sunday, after church, I'd cover her expenses with cash. I could trust her - I thought!
However, during the summer I noticed the children's attendance was dropping off as the local gardens were producing produce, but the weekly amounts that she asked for kept slowly increasing.
Then one day, while I was in the city, I bought lunch for myself and two friends. We ate like kings, three full meals for only 30 rubles! How great! Then I thought, well, really it was God hitting me on the head to get my attention If I brought all 100 kids here to eat it would cost Project Little Lamb 1,000 rubles per day, and 7,000 rubles a week. So, why was I giving Raissa 12,000 rubles per week? I fired her. I gave her this work when she had lost her job and husband all in the same week. Why would she do this?
Silent Panic is the fear of an unsecure future.
She took revenge on me and told the Territorial Counsel Member of Religious Matters so many lies that I was forced to return to America. That is why I am here in Alaska now. At least, that is how it seemed at first, but now I know our Lord had many, many other reasons also. Writing this SILENT PANIC is one. I could not use a computer when I came home. My two Bible printing trips to China in these past six months and my plans to go into North Korea this coming April with scriptures are other reasons. There are and will be more.
In Jesus Love, BUD.
Date: Saturday, February 2, 2002 1:45 p.m.
I've questioned myself as to whether or not I should approach this subject. I've prayed about it, and have come to the answer that I should. So what about Baptism?
I was first baptized by having water poured on my head as a baby - a Lutheran. In my ministry I felt Jesus was baptized by going completely under the water, and so I wanted to do the same, and was in a Baptist church in Alabama where I was teaching Sunday school.
In Russia, I wanted to baptize as our Lord would wish. Once a Baptist pastor announced in a sermon that the Greek word “Baptiso” meant to be “fully immersed in water”. I had to wonder about all the millions of Catholics, Orthordox, Lutherans, and a host of others who died without being immersed! Also, what about the thief who died on the cross to the right of Jesus. How much water was he baptized with? I'm very sure he went to heaven.
One Sunday after my baptism by immersion the very same Baptist pastor who preformed the ceremony announced in a sermon that no water was necessary at all! He was a Doctor of Theology. So even the Baptist can't agree among themselves.
A couple of Sundays ago a Spirit Filled Pastor I dearly love also said the word “Baptiso” meant complete immersion. However, many times I've heard him say, “Don't take my word on these things. Research them for yourself.” SO I DID! I looked into a Greek/English dictionary! Under “Baptiso” it said: “1) to wash 2) to cleanse and 3) this MAY BE done by immersion.”
Then I went to the Bible itself to reread about the baptism of Jesus. Nowhere does it say he went fully under the water. The Jordan river is only 6 inches deep in some places. The Bible does say that Jesus came up out of the water. That does not exactly mean he was fully immersed. I can come up out of the bath tub water and not have been fully immersed, but have washed and cleaned myself.
What about all the wounded soldiers who made battlefield confessions of faith moments before they died. Did they all go to hell? I think not.
Now, that I've made 50% of you angry with me, let me tell you where I stand. It is here, “Here I Stand”. First, I believe Jesus was baptized by immersion. Second, I believe that we should emulate Him - being baptism by immersion. Third, Immersion IS NOT KEY to salvation. Fourth, it is possible to be baptized without water. Jesus said, “If you confess Me before men, I will confess you before My Father.” Fifth, Baptism is an outward expression of an inward feeling. Sixth, We, as Christians, should not be fighting over this subject. We have no choice but to love each other. John 13:34, 15:12, 15:17. If you won't read them I'll tell you. Jesus commands us to love each other. It is His command - black, white, yellow, red. Seventh, and lastly, we do not express Christian love when we try to belittle other Christians by sarcastically using the word “Sprinkle” in relationship to Baptism. A less offensive and more accurate word would be “Pour”.
Oh, how I love you all, IJL, BUD.
Date: Saturday, February 2, 2002 2:38 p.m.
This will .be the last story that I have to tell 'about Novokurovka. It is about my last three days there.
As I was being forced out of Russia I returned to my village for one last time. As it was, there came a lad to my door named Pavel (Paul, in English). He wanted money. There were five people in my home - all wanting money. I asked him to return tomorrow. He did. I had six people inside - all wanting money. Again, I asked him to return tomorrow.
The third day was my last, and I had forgotten about Pavel, but I went to our soup kitchen for one last inspection as it was to remain open even though I'd be in America. I then left the building and started to walk down to the river to catch the boat back to the city. I was on a gravel path when I heard a little voice calling to me. “Bud, Bud”. I turned to see him running after me. He was just a little guy, eight years old.
Suddenly he stumbled in the gravel and fell on his knees and elbows. Laying there he started to cry. I ran to him. Picking him up (As I type this I am crying) I said, “Pavel, Ya tut. Ya tut, Pavel”. (In English: “Paul, I'm here. I'm here, Paul.”)
The reason I cry now is because I knew then why he was crying. It was not because his knees and elbows hurt. You see, Russian men are taught at an early age to be strong and that crying is a sign of weakness. He was crying because he had given up on life. His mother was a harlot. Having known four men and having a son by each one of them she could in no way provide for him. He stumbled because the sole of his left boot was flapping like a bird's wing in flight. There was no way to repair it as it was made out of very cheap materials. This was early November. Tomorrow or the next day snow would surely fly, and he would be forced to face the cold unprotected. I held him tight, until his tears ended. Then I took him by the hand and we walked up to the food store. Sometimes they had clothing there. Guess what? (Now, I want to cry again - it's too beautiful). They had one pair of warm leather boots, and they fit him perfectly. He had no warm coat. They had one of those also, at least, until I put it on him! Oh Father, in heaven, how you have blessed me. I love you so very Much.
And I love all of you too. BUD.
Date: Wednesday, February 6, 2002 1:02 p.m.
In some of the recent episodes I told stories about how cruel my fellow villagers were in stealing and robbing old people. I could write an entire book about how I was cheated and robbed over 210 times. In that book there would be a few chapters about how I was lied to by Christian leaders and cheated out of money by those same people!
Well, WHAT KIND OF PEOPLE WOULD DO THESE SORT OF THINGS? Here are the answers.
First: People who lived under Communism for over 70 years.
Second: People who all their lives were told there was no Triune God.
Third: People who had loved ones murdered for being BAPTIZED in their faith.
Fourth: Those who were told, “Work hard under a Five Year Plan, and we will all have a very good life.”
Fifth: After working hard through FOUR Five Year Plans most of them could see their dreams would never materialize!
Sixth: People who could see others who were on the lowest employment level go without wages for a few months, and then watched others on the mid level go without wages. It was like being on the upper decks of the Titanic, everyone scrambling to the top deck. I knew school teachers who went six months without any income, and then the Mayor of our village went three months without pay. Now, the Titanic sinks.
Seventh: Living in a country where everyone stopped paying their taxes, and thus the government could not provide services, causing these kind of people to exist.
Eighth: Generation after generation teaching their children, by their actions, that lying, cheating, and stealing are necessary for survival. It becomes a way of life and is accepted as a normal.
COMMUNISM, in my way of thinking, is Satan's most powerful tool to lead souls to hell.
Satan tried to establish Communism in America a few decades ago. Thank God - Our Lord didn't let him. Otherwise the people I described above would have been US! Russians are no different than Americans. We are all human, and in the normal course of events respond the same way to the same stimulus. If the situation were reversed I would have described Americans.
Our Bible tells us that when the shepherds become corrupt our Lord will drive them off and scatter the sheep. Then, after the bad shepherds are dead, He will rejoin the flocks and provide them new and good shepherds. That is what happen in Russia. Decades ago, the Orthodox Church in Russia became very CORRUPT. Now, and now again, I listen to this Church and I hear it singing the same song. Only now, I hear the second verse! I see this Church planning a re-takeover of the government!
The eight reasons I outlined above are the reasons for the “SILENT PANIC” I have experienced in my work. If I were to forecast, “what next?”, I would have to say the “SILENT PANIC” will be followed by the “SILENT TERROR”!
I love you all,
BUD.
Date: Wednesday, February 6, 2002 3:50 p.m.
On my Baptism dissertation I may have lead some of you to think that I feel multiple ceremonies are necessary. I do not. I was baptized three times, each time for a difference reason. Each had to do with our Lord's and my personal relationship. After ministering to my congregation in Novokurovka I had no doubts about performing baptisms there, but both up and down our river there were villages that had no church or chapel. People were dying there regularly. I wanted to give them the same benefits that I was providing my parishioners, but I didn't have time to give them any Biblical instructions. However, after discussing this with other Christian leaders I came to the conclusion that it would be better to baptize believers who would confess their faith than let them die without it. One woman in the village of Kukan told me she was 52 years old, and in her entire life no Priest, Pastor, or Missionary ever came there. I baptized her, her daughter, and her grand daughter all in the ceremony.
Kukan is a very remote village about an hour's flight from the big city. On my arrival there I went straight to see the Mayor. He gave me permission to put up signs and to baptize. He had been previously, his wife not, but she desired it. In three days 242 people came forward out of 1,000 or more villagers.
Galina, who worked in the little hotel, told me about Naoomovka, a village about an hour's drive away. She set me up to ride the school bus home with the kids who lived there. On arrival I set up an altar in the little local store. I needed a table and usually these little stores have none. I prayed about this, and when I walked inside I .saw it there beside the far wall. It made me think about the donkey waiting for Jesus! The children ran all over the village telling people the service would soon begin. They came. I baptized 31. Galina sent a car for me, but before I left I gave the Mayor 5,000 rubles for the children's Christmas. She had told me they'd have a party, but no presents to give the kids.
Back in Kukan, Galina told me a car would give me a six-hour ride to the nearest cities' train station the next morning. The ride was in a crew cab truck. Three men sat in the front seat. The Mayor and his wife gave me room in the rear seat. Her name was Zina. During the whole trip we didn't talk even though she sat next to me and I knew she desired baptism.
Once we arrived in the city, and time was running out, I asked her if she wanted to be baptized. She said “Yes.” I told the driver to park under some shade trees where there was no traffic. She and I got out and went to the tailgate of the truck. I opened my suitcase, took out a jar of water, a towel for an altar cloth, a large cross, a candle stick, and a bowl. She made her confession, I baptized her and gave her a certificate. The four men in the truck never turned around! The reason was the Mayor could have lost his job if there were witnesses. This was, and still is a carryover from the days of Communism.
I love you, BUD.
Date: Wednesday, February 6, 2002 5:03 p.m.
There was a time as I was traveling on the riverboat Zarya that a man asked if I'd get off at his village and spend some time with him. His name was Vladimir. I told him if he'd help me put up baptism signs I would. He said he would and so I did.
That evening, at sunset, we set up an altar on a large stone on the river's edge. It was 6 feet long, and 4 feet square. It was appropriate, as the name of the village was “New Stone”. The sunset was beautiful. I still have photos. Vladimir left me to my work and went home.
In these small villages there are no street lights. It gets very dark, but I had lit a candle. I stood there and waited. If someone was standing up on the high bank I could not see them, but I felt watched. I waited some more. The beach was gravel. Then I heard a few footsteps approaching. A man came out of the darkness. I baptized him, gave him a cross and a certificate. He signed my book and left.
Then another man appeared. It was the same.
Then a third man came forth. This was very unusual - three men. No women! Usually more women are sure of what they want than men when it comes to baptism. I believe this is true in all countries. Seldom have I counted more men at a worship service than women.
Well, to get back to my third man. He took the cross, but wanted a blank certificate except for my signature, date and Project Little Lamb stamp. Later I found out his name was Valeri. Again, a person wanted no proof that others could hang him with as Communism was not long dead and could return.
The next morning Vladimir gave me cold greasy fish and beer for breakfast. He had no tea or coffee and apologized. When finished I needed a paper napkin. He tore a page out of a book and told me to use that. I thought that was strange as Russians treat all books as Holy Scriptures. I needed to go to the outhouse. He gave me three more pages from the book.
When I returned to the house I had to see just who's book he was destroying. I can't read Russian well, but I could read this name easily. It was Vladimir Illeavich Lenin, Father of Communism! I tore out that title page and later a friend translated for me the name of the book. It was “The Defense Of Socialism In The Motherland.” So much for Communism! I still have that page.
Soon the Zarya arrived and we said our “good-byes”. I boarded. After a couple of hours a man came up to my seat and asked if I'd baptize him there on the boat. I had prayed about this many times, and now my prayer was being answered. Following him a girl, who's mother had sent her forward. Now, everyone in all the river villages knew that God loved them and had sent me there for their salvation.
After I finished, I sat down where I had been sitting, next to a native woman. She asked me when I would come to her village to baptize. I told her I had two problems. One, I'd have no place to stay, and two, I needed permission from the village's mayor. She replied, that one, I could stay at her home, and two, she was the mayor. I started my second church in Ooleeka and eventually baptized 91 of the 110 people who lived there.
In Jesus' love, BUD.
Date: Wednesday, February 6, 2002 8:54 p.m.
At the very end of our Kur River system is the village of Pobeda (means Victory). I think Pobeda is my victory as in three trips there I baptized 540 people. At one ceremony I walked into the Hall and counted about 56 people waiting for me. We started. I had two young women filling out certificates, passing out crosses and literature, and registering each person in our ledger.
I started and after an hour I was tired so I took a short break and went over to look at the results of this labor. The answer was 44. I looked at the crowd and there were more there than when we started! I baptized a total 137, and that evening we added 10 more.
Now, you may ask, “Bud, did you ever turn anyone away?”. There was a time when a man came forward who did not believe in God, Jesus or the Holy Spirit! I did not baptize him. I gave him a New Testament. He told me he thought it would be a good idea to be baptized since all the others were doing it.
Now, back to Pobeda. At one evening service, at about finishing time, the Police Chief walked in and started yelling at everyone. All there were gone in seconds. The Major walked over and locked the door. We were alone and I was a bit afraid, so I started to introduce myself to him by telling him my name. He tilted his head back, much the same way Hellen did in China that day, and looking down .his nose at me and said, “I know your name!”. He wanted to be baptized and in his position he could not afford to have witnesses. I did as he wished, and the next day he brought his wife and daughter to my quarters.
As I was leaving the town I walked down the old railroad tracks to the river boat. As I walked a young couple caught up with me. The man went on, but the woman wanted to know what an American was doing in their town. After she made her confession I baptized her right there on the tracks! In a way, walking with her, I felt the presence of Jesus, and felt like we were on the Road to Emmaus.
I love you all so very much, Bud.
Date: Wednesday, February 6, 2002 9:46 p.m.
Pobeda was my victory, but Dogordon was my greatest blessing.
As it was I returned to Kukan because Galina had told me about one other little village which was very significantly isolated. It was a two-hour truck ride to Dogordon after a one hour plane ride to Kukan. Ninety minutes or so into our trip we started a gentle climb which became steeper. It became so steep that I was looking up at the sky. There was no pollution and I had forgotten the skies of my youth until that day. With a few snow white clouds here and there the sky was beautiful. The blue was a blue I had not seen in decades. We were hundreds of miles from anywhere.
It was September and the birch tree's leaves were a delightful mix of yellow, red and a few remaining green. There has never been a prettier day in my life! Truly.
Finally, we crested the hill and I looked down into the quiet valley and saw a quiet village of about 20 homes. On arrival I found out there was no Mayor, doctor, dentist, Post office, or policeman. Only a schoolteacher and her school.
Galina was along to explain my mission. Children playing nearby were sent out to each home to announce my presents. We prepared the school for worship. When 55 were baptized and we started to pack our things we were told Peter Ivanovich was coming down the road! Peter was the eldest member of the village. He was in his eighties, a veteran of the Great Patriotic War (WW II), could hardly walk even with his cane, and was very sure of his faith. Peter's baptism was timely as he died not too long thereafter.
Reaching the top of the hill, on our departure, I asked the driver to stop. I wanted to look down and reflect on what had just happened to me. God truly loves EVERYONE. He had sent me to the FOURTH CORNER OF THE WORLD -Dogordon!
In Jesus' love, BUD.
Date: Thursday, February 7, 2002 1:36 p.m.
Yes, SILENT PANIC was finished yesterday with part 4 of 1,402 Baptisms.
I'm planning a fund raising tour to raise monies for our expanded work in North Korea. I plan to start at the west coast on or about mid-March and work east ending up in New York on or about mid-April. Please consider letting me “sing for my supper” with you.
IJL, BUD.
P.S. Let me know as soon as possible so I can plan you in my schedule.
Or...Send support to Project Little Lamb, 14804 W Heath Drive, Wasilla, Alaska 99654-9616
Thanks
This is the page you have been looking for! Acknowledgments and Thank you to:
Sally Reimer, Charles Howe, and Rev. David Balla for input and comments as we went along.
Elizabeth Woods for her encouragement and support.
And lastly, but perhaps most important, for all those who have given donations to Project Little Lamb. Without you our Project would have accomplished little to nothing.
Note: Except for profit or financial gain, anyone who would like to extract, copy, or reproduce these writings for the glory of our Lord's kingdom may do so, and with my blessing.
Project Little Lamb bud@projectlittlelamb.com
Box 200085
Anchorage, Alaska 99520
94