In general, being an American carries social status and prestige in Colombia. I struck up a friendship with a man named Carlos Herrera⁴ who was a member of the social elite because his family had significant wealth and power. Carlos owned a spray-plane company. He employed the best aviation mechanics in town, and his aircraft maintenance was first-class. I flew into Carlos’s crop-dusting base in the 170 one day, and a lasting friendship developed. He took me under his wing and provided excellent maintenance for my decrepit, old 170 at reasonable rates.

⁴No relation to the Carlos mentioned in chapter 1

Carlos also taught me much about jungle flying. He was an excellent flight instructor with over nine thousand hours’ flying time in DC-3s, PBYs, and crop dusters. He would sit with me and patiently teach me the basics. If he ever caught me show[1]ing off or horsing around in an airplane, his usual easygoing personality would turn serious. He’d say, “Aviation is not a circus. Now shape up and fly right.” By the time I bought the 182, Carlos had helped mold me into a smooth and professional pilot, capable of staying calm even in the worst emergency. Better yet, he had taught me to think ahead in order to avoid most dangerous situations.

Matchmakers

After awhile, Carlos wanted to do another kind of favor for me. He decided I needed to marry into one of the wealthy, high-society families. I was soon being invited to all the major social functions. Carlos was hard at work spreading propaganda about me to the eligible, rich young ladies. I became the center attraction at parties. It was clear that whenever I wanted to get married, I could choose from among several outstanding young ladies from very wealthy and powerful families.

Deep inside, I knew it was only a dream. I could picture a certain blend of physical, intellectual, and moral attributes in my mind of the girl I wanted to marry. None of those high[1]society girls seemed to fit that image. I’d never get very far in my relationship with any of these girls before I would discover some obvious defect that would cause me to think twice about marriage, so I’d terminate our relationship. I hesitated to get into a marriage just for money and power. Dad was very concerned about me at this time, and he also was always promoting some American girl. He introduced me to many fine girls, but none of them fit my dream.

I was twenty-four and losing hope of finding my “dream girl.” Maybe I would have to compromise my best, so I narrowed the prospects to only four girls. Every evening, I would pray that God would help me make the right choice. I was uneasy and scared to death that I’d marry the wrong person.

One night I thought, “If God could create me with a dream in my mind of a specific girl who could completely satisfy my desire for a wife, then God could also create the girl who is the personification of my dream, as well as make us perfectly compatible in every way. She might not seem perfect to anyone else, but she would be for me.” Then I thought, “If this is true, then I had better let God choose the girl I am to marry. If I make the choice and blow it like I am prone to do from time to time, my life will be miserable.”

I prayed again and told God I wanted Him to choose my wife. I expected God would probably select one of the four finalists. I was astonished when thoughts of an entirely different girl flooded my brain. “Impossible!” I told God. “You can’t mean her. Why, she is from a poor Catholic family. Her mother is even an Indian. I don’t mind that, but it’s just not socially acceptable in Colombia for me to marry into a family like that.”

An inner voice seemed to say, “Well, you asked me to make the choice for you, and she is it. If I were you, I would get with it and court her before someone else takes her away. You haven’t even been nice to her recently.”

Marina

I continued to think about Marina, the girl that had popped into my mind. She really was extremely attractive. In fact, she was downright beautiful, far surpassing the other girls I had been considering. Still deep in thought, it dawned on me that Marina was the only girl I had ever gone out with who never presented an obvious character defect, such as being stuck-up, lying to me, or chasing me. I had never considered marrying her though, and just treated her as a friend. How could I have been so blind?

That part about not treating her nice recently hit me right between the eyes as I remembered our last meeting. On November 10, 1979, during the annual festival in our town of San Martin, I had a date with Marina at 7:00 p.m. to take her to a folk music contest. On the way to her house, I ran into some old acquaintances whom I hadn’t seen for years. When I finally pried myself loose, it was 8:00 p.m. I hurried to Marina’s house and intended to apologize for the delay. She answered my knock and I was surprised that she was wearing a nightgown. She coldly informed me that if I expected to take her out, I would have to come back the next night at 7:00 p.m. sharp and that now she was going to sleep. With that she slammed the door in my face. “Women sure are funny sometimes,” I thought as I left.

The next night I arrived at her house at 6:55 p.m., and Marina was all dressed up. We headed for the town square where there was folk dancing in the streets. When we arrived, we met my friend Carlos Herrera. He was accompanied by his wife and several society girls who knew me. Unfortunately, they each decided to greet me with a kiss. When I finally got untangled, I turned around and Marina was gone. “That’s strange,” I thought. “I didn’t even get to introduce her to Carlos. Well, if she wants to be like that, it’s her problem,” I muttered to myself.

Bob and Carol Geiger, an American couple who worked with my father, joined us, and we settled down to watch the colorful folk festival. San Martin is a very historic little town that was established more than 450 years ago. I was engrossed in conversation with Carlos and his friends when Carol leaned over and whispered, “What did you ever do to make that girl who came with you so angry? She just walked by with another guy, stopped right in front of you, and gave him a big kiss. You were so engrossed in your conversation that you didn’t even notice. She stomped out of here mad as hops.”

A couple of weeks later, I felt bad about the incident and wanted to apologize. Marina, however, had left with relatives for Cali – on the other side of Colombia. Several months later, I didn’t know what to do to recover. I thought I might even have to travel all over Colombia searching for her. What if she was still mad at me? I got depressed as I wondered what course of action to pursue. “It must not be impossible,” I thought, “or God would have never brought her to my attention.” I decided to go over to Marina’s house the next night; maybe her family could tell me where to find her.

I felt some butterflies inside as I headed to her house around 7:30 p.m. San Martin is a small town, and I was walking. As I approached the last corner, I was astonished to see Marina and one of her girlfriends walking down the street toward me. With much fear and trembling, I walked up to them and said, “Hi. Where are you going?”

“We’re going to a party,” Marina replied. I noticed they were both dressed up.

With my heart in my throat, I asked, “Do you have a date?”

“No,” Marina replied. “I returned from Cali last night, and no one knows I’m back yet.” It turned out the girlfriend came to Marina’s house for the sole purpose of inviting her to the party, which was at the girlfriend’s house. I timidly asked Marina if she would accept an invitation from me to the local ice cream parlor so that we could talk. Then I would take her to the party afterward. The girlfriend said that she had to get right home, so we went by her house first; then Marina and I wandered toward the ice cream parlor.

I don’t know if it was the effects of the full moon or the lovely white lace dress Marina was wearing, but we never reached our intended destination. We meandered into the municipal fair-grounds, which were deserted at this time of the year. All of a sudden, she was in my arms, and I was telling her that I loved her. She told me that she had missed me. We spent the evening strolling around in the moonlight, talking. Then I escorted Marina home where she kissed me good-night. I went back to my house, walking on air.

The next morning, I woke up and mentally kicked myself. “Now you’ve done it,” I accused myself. “You have really put your foot in it. Whatever possessed you to say all those things to Marina last night? If you ever have to end the relationship, her heart will be broken.” I began to wonder if Marina was really the right girl for me. As I meditated on this, I remembered two things my father had taught me about how to choose the right wife.

“First,” Dad told me, “take a good look at the girl’s mother. If you can’t stand your future mother-in-law, then think twice about marrying her daughter, because in twenty years your wife will probably be very much like her mother is right now.

“Second, pay attention to how your prospective bride treats her father. If she still respects and admires her father, even though she knows his weak points and defects, the chances are that she will still respect and admire you even after she gets to know your weak points and problem areas.”

I decided to apply these two tests to Marina. I was tremendously impressed with Marina’s mother after I got to know her. She was a wonderful example of a devoted wife and mother. Her figure remained trim and shapely even after eight children. I thought, “If Marina looks and acts like her mother in twenty or thirty years, I will be more than satisfied.”

I then turned my attention to her father. On the surface, he seemed to be a typical small-town politician. Underneath, however, I soon saw his strong, moral, and family-oriented char[1]acter. It was quite clear that Marina respected and admired her father. In fact, none of my future father-in-law’s eight children ever rebelled against him. They all felt the same way Marina did toward her father. I thought this was a remarkable feat on his part in this age of parent and teenager conflict.

My parents were planning to leave in a week or so for the United States and would be gone three or more months; my brother and sisters would go with them. I would be alone in Colombia holding the fort. I decided to introduce Marina to my parents before they left because we might be engaged before they returned.

Dad immediately called me to the side and gave a stern lecture about not getting involved with Colombian girls. “No telling what their motives are,” he said, “and no telling what her family’s motives are.” After Dad had taken this position, it was impossible for me to explain my true feelings about Marina, so I said nothing. I had a heart-to-heart talk with Mom, and she promised to explain things to Dad for me.

Engagement

During the school year, Marina stayed with her grandmother in San Martin. About the time my family left for the U.S., Marina moved to Mapiripan to be with her parents. This was not far from Chaparral, and I flew a lot of fish out of that area. All day my thoughts somehow centered on Marina, and at the end of each day’s flying, the 182 somehow ended up in Mapiripan. I remember coldly calculating the pros and cons of marrying Marina, until one day it finally dawned on me that I was madly in love with her. In fact, I was so head-over-heels in love that I was having trouble eating, sleeping, and flying. I had several close calls with the plane, including several occasions when I flew through severe thunderstorms just to visit Marina. I finally decided that it’d be best to ask her to marry me before I killed myself. It was dangerous to fly around in a daze thinking about her all the time.

I was invited to a picnic the following weekend with Marina and her family. I’d already discussed my intentions with her father, as is the custom in Colombia. He gave me his blessing, but the final decision was Marina’s. After the picnic, I asked her to marry me. She was shocked because she had just turned eighteen and had only thought of marriage in the distant future. I pressed her for an answer, but she wouldn’t make a decision. She wanted more time to consider my proposal.

Two weeks passed and the suspense was almost unbearable. I came to the conclusion that I couldn’t live without Marina. She was one in a million. If I lost her, I’d never be the same. I presented my case to Marina’s sisters, so they could intervene on my behalf before I went insane. Matters peaked when I was invited to a birthday party for her fourteen-year-old sister, Clemencia. It was an evening party, and I arrived at 7:00 p.m.

Unbeknownst to me, another girl at the party planned a devilish scheme to break up our relationship, so she could make a try for me. This girl mixed an Indian love potion called chundu. As she served the refreshments, it was easy for her to slip chundu into my glass before she gave it to me. She thought the love potion would cause me to love her instead of Marina. I finished about half the glass when I felt odd. I got up, left the living room, and went to the kitchen. When I reached the kitchen, my sense of balance was severely impaired. There was a hardwood post in the center of the kitchen holding a roof beam. I clung to it with one hand and tried to clear my head. My future mother-in-law entered the kitchen, and I barely managed a weak grin. Inside I thought, “Oh no, I wonder if she thinks I arrived drunk!” She looked at me and then offered a cup of coffee, which I tried to drink as best I could. I knew that if I let go of the post, I’d fall to the floor. Marina’s older sister, Rosario, came in and noticed my predicament. When she saw that I was pale and dizzy, she asked if I wanted to lie down. I told her what I thought had happened, and she helped me into one of the bedrooms. The girl responsible for this prank got scared and split the party when she saw Rosario help me to bed.

I was too dizzy to sit up, and my emotions were having a tug-of-war. I asked Rosario to call Marina. I felt a strong desire to be with her. Marina came in and spent a couple of minutes with me and then she left. She was accustomed to small-town living and feared she’d spark gossip if she was in the bedroom longer. She stayed in the living room with the guests and dispelled any potential rumors. The worse I felt, the more my desire for Marina intensified. This chundu was really bad news, and I must have had an overdose. I couldn’t understand why Marina wouldn’t stay with me. Suspicion flashed in my mind. What was she doing out in the living room? With whom was she talking? Was someone else trying to take her away from me?

It was almost midnight before my head cleared enough to stagger to the kitchen. Most of the guests had gone home, but a few lingered in the living room. I sat on the kitchen table (all the chairs were in other rooms) with my back against the wall. The table was near the doorway leading to the dining room. Marina came through the doorway; I grabbed her and put my arms around her in a bear hug.

“Let me go, you’re embarrassing me,” she whispered to me.

I said, “No, I’m not going to let you go until you give me a straight answer about whether or not you’ll marry me.”

“You’re holding me too tight,” she hissed. “Let me go and we’ll talk in the morning.”

“I won’t let go until you tell me if you will marry me.”

“You’re drunk!” she exclaimed.

“It’s not my fault,” I said. “Somebody fed me a love potion, and it really spaced me out, but it’s wearing off and I feel better.”

“You just want to marry me because I’m pretty,” Marina said sadly. “When you find out some of my problems and weak points, you won’t want to have anything more to do with me. Why do you want to marry a poor half-breed like me when you can pick and choose the highest of society?”

I said, “I love you just the way you are, problems and everything. I can’t face a life without you. I think you are God’s choice for me.”

She said, “I still think that you are drunk, but yes.”

“Yes what?” I asked sharply.

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” she whispered. “Now will you let go of me and stop making such a scene?” I clung to her even tighter and started to cry. She broke down and cried too, and we really did put on a scene. I don’t remember how long this lasted, but the evening finally ended with one of my future brothers-in-law hanging a hammock in the hall and helping me into it. Marina tucked a blanket around me and kissed me good-night.

I woke up the next morning and felt like a heel. “No telling what my future in-laws think of me,” I thought. Fortunately, they knew about the chundu and didn’t hold anything against me for last night’s incident. Better still, I went for a walk with Marina, and she confirmed her decision to marry me.

“I really love you and wanted to marry you all along,” she said.

“Then why did you cause me so much grief?” I asked indignantly

“I just wanted to find out if you really loved me,” she replied, smiling sweetly.

I told Marina that I thought we should get married right away. She was aghast at the idea of getting married while my parents were in the States. “Your family will never accept me if we do that,” she said.

“Trust me,” I replied. “That is the way it has to be. I know what I am doing.”

Wedding Preparations

In Colombia there are only two ways of getting legally married: by a judge in court, a procedure that takes six months of slow paperwork, or in the Catholic Church. I knew Marina’s family would want a Catholic wedding. I also knew Dad would want a legal wedding, followed by a ceremony in a Protestant church. I could not wait six months while this type of explosive situation existed between our families. If we simply got married, I was quite certain that my family would accept Marina, and we would sidestep a problem that could bring lasting damage to the relationship of our families. After I convinced Marina of all this, I still had to convince her mother. After I succeeded in that, I had one more problem.

The Catholic priest I consulted said that it was impossible to marry us because I wasn’t a Catholic. There was a history of friction between Catholics and Protestants in Colombia, and this type of thing just wasn’t done. I spoke with several other priests and received the same answer. I could be married in the Catholic Church only if I allowed myself to be baptized as a Catholic first. I felt my marriage vows should be made directly to God and not to any sectarian church. It would be wrong for me to join the Catholic Church just so they would marry us. Dad was going to have a hard-enough time accepting a Catholic wedding. There seemed to be no solution. My parents were due back from the States in less than four weeks. I prayed that since this marriage was God’s idea in the first place, then He would have to work things out because I couldn’t seem to get anywhere.

I remembered one priest I hadn’t talked to yet. His name was Father Joel Martinez, and he presided over the parish of San Martin. He had a reputation for being very strict, so I hadn’t approached him. I finally went to see him and found out he was a dedicated Christian. He listened to my story and wanted to help. He felt he could convince the bishop to issue a special dispensation for a marriage of mixed religion. It was Friday and Father Martinez promised an answer on Monday morning.

Marina and I went to see Father Martinez early Monday morning; the answer was yes, and all the paperwork was in order. We were required to take a premarital orientation class, but the next class would not begin for three weeks. I nervously explained to Father Martinez that we didn’t have three weeks. He eyed us suspiciously and Marina blushed. I quickly explained the situation with my parents and how I felt it was important to proceed with the ceremony as soon as possible. Father Martinez said, “I have a full schedule this month, but I do have tomorrow night free. If you will come at 9:00 p.m., I will give you a special marriage orientation class. Then I could marry you on Thursday.”

We furiously prepared for the wedding. Marina needed some things, so we went shopping in Villavicencio. On the way home, a terrible storm arose and our bus broke down. It was 11:45 p.m. when we finally arrived in San Martin. It appeared as though we missed our only opportunity for the marriage orientation class. Father Martinez would be in bed, and he was a stickler for rules. I knew he would not make an exception and marry us without it. Our hopes were dashed.

Marina said, “Well, let’s knock on his door anyway; what have we got to lose?” With much fear and trembling, we knocked on the parsonage door at midnight. Father Martinez opened the door and invited us in. He made us coffee when he saw we were wet and shivering. From midnight to 3:00 a.m., he gave us a special marriage orientation class. His sound advice served us well many times during our first year of marriage.

Our wedding was set for Thursday, two days later at the 5:00 a.m. mass. My financial situation was a complete disaster with many bank loans overdue. I was being hounded by lawyers from one of the major banks. I was also writing post-dated checks to obtain funds to keep the fish business operating. Some of these checks were past due, and in Colombia, writing a bad check can result in an immediate jail sentence without bail.

To make matters worse, our mechanic had started the 182 to heat the oil prior to changing it, but he left the plane running on the ramp – unattended. The parking brake slipped, the plane traveled across the ramp and hit a parked car whose owner was threatening to sue me for damages. With the propeller demolished and the engine damaged, repairs would be almost $12,000. Fortunately, I had rebuilt the 170 with an overhauled, chrome engine donated by our friends in the States.

I owed a lot of money. With bad credit, there was no way to raise money to repair the 182, and without it, I was doomed. The 170 didn’t have the payload or the range to fly deep into the jungle where the moneymaking flights originated. It would only be a matter of time before foreclosure, and I’d probably be jailed for writing bad checks anyway. If I could get the 182 running, there was a faint possibility of enough incoming money to stave off my creditors. The engine and the prop to the 182 had been overhauled, but the Cessna company wouldn’t release it until I paid the full $12,000 because I had too many overdue purchase payments on the plane itself, and my insurance had refused to cover the expenses related to the accident.

Armando’s Offer

The day before the wedding, my friend Armando showed up. The last time I had seen him, he was the head of the secret police in our area, but since then he had resigned. He was now making a fortune by smuggling marijuana and cocaine. He heard I was having financial difficulties, so he came to see if I needed help. I told him about the situation with the 182. “No problem,” he said. “If you had the money, how long would it take you to get the plane flying?”

“Oh, about three days,” I replied.

“It’s a deal,” Armando said.

“What’s the deal?” I asked.

“I’ll give you the money you need to get your prop and engine out of hock,” continued Armando. “In four days, I need you to fly a shipment of drugs to the Guajira peninsula in northern Colombia, and then we’re even. I’ll need more flights from time to time, and I think I can advance you money against future flying if you need more. In fact, I have my briefcase full of cash right now. See, I’m not kidding. You don’t have to worry about a thing. I’m representing some very wealthy and influential people. Security is no problem for us. It is impossible for you to get caught because everything on this mission has been arranged.”

“I can’t do it, Armando,” I replied. “I’m getting married tomorrow, and besides, you know I have a strict policy against anything to do with drugs.”

Armando didn’t want to take no for an answer; he wanted me to delay the wedding for a week. He said, “What good will it do you to get married if you go bankrupt? Think it over and discuss it with your fiancée. I’ll be back in two hours for your answer.”

If I hadn’t been under such extreme financial pressure, I wouldn’t have considered Armando’s offer. But I thought about the consequences of bankruptcy, the embarrassment to our families, and of my new wife-to-be. Maybe I should make this one flight for Armando to get the 182 flying again. I would then be able to continue my usual legal jungle flying and pay my bills. Suddenly, I remembered the night flight with Pedro several years before – especially that the end does not justify the means. God had very clearly taught me that lesson, and I knew what I had to do.

When Armando returned, I firmly and forcefully told him that I couldn’t accept his offer with or without any exceptions. Armando finally tired of arguing, picked up his briefcase, and left. I breathed a sigh of relief. I felt a firm conviction I’d done the right thing. After Armando left, it seemed silly to have even considered his offer. After experiencing what was clearly God’s hand in arranging my marriage, I grew in confidence that God would see me through this financial crisis if I just kept my nose clean.

Marriage

We married on Thursday, August 28, 1980, and Father Martinez performed the ceremony as planned at 5:00 a.m. When Marina and I held our candles together and merged the two separate flames into one, I was choked with emotion about its significance. We felt a strong commitment to one another and to God. The fact that we were from different church backgrounds seemed irrelevant.

I tried to keep the wedding a secret, but about fifty close friends found out and gave us a breakfast wedding reception at a local motel. From there we rented a taxi for a five-hour ride over the scenic Andes Mountains into Bogota. Marina was happy, but very tired. She fell asleep with her head on my lap as we traveled the winding mountain road. It was a clear day, and I was awed by the great beauty of the fourteen-thousand-foot-high mountains. Crystal streams rushed along the edge of the road from time to time. I even saw three spectacular waterfalls simultaneously. I looked down at the sleeping, almost-angelic face of my new wife and a great sense of responsibility washed over me. She trusted me completely. Would I be able to live up to that trust? Would I be able to provide for her and for our future children? I decided to forget my financial troubles until after our honeymoon.

That evening we boarded a jetliner in Bogota for a two-hour flight to San Andres Island in the Caribbean. I had written another post-dated check to a friendly travel agent for the tickets. We spent an enjoyable two weeks in this tropical island paradise. I had obtained a new credit card to which I charged our expenses.

On the third day of our honeymoon, as I read the newspaper, an item caught my eye. There had been a drug bust in the Guajira. The details weren’t too clear, but it appeared to have been Armando and a pilot he had hired. A special army patrol caught them landing with a shipment of drugs. Their airplane was confiscated, and they were facing the possibility of long prison terms. I praised God that I hadn’t listened to Armando.

I sent a telegram to my sister Sharon that just said, “Honeymoon/San Andres/Love Russ.” Then I wrote a long letter to my parents to explain the situation. Back in the States, everyone thought the telegram was a joke, but the follow-up letter really shook them. My parents were shocked that they hadn’t even been invited to the wedding, but overall they took it quite well.

Paying Debts

When we returned to San Martin, I worked with renewed dedication to face my creditors. I obtained several well-paying contracts with the 170. Money came in and enabled me to pay the credit card bill and some post-dated checks. I was amazed at how much my outlook on financial matters changed after marriage. God worked on me regarding financial integrity. I longed to be completely free of debt; I realized I was a slave to my debtors. I owed so much money that I hadn’t been able to produce enough income to even make the interest payments on the loans for the fish business. Compound interest is very subtle in how it turns a seemingly stable financial situation into a nightmare when the business suffers a few unforeseen setbacks. Embargo proceedings had been initiated against me at various levels, which added astronomical lawyers’ fees to my bill. The bank presidents who had been so friendly and eager to make me a client earlier showed no mercy now that I was in deep financial trouble. It was clear that I would have to quickly come up with a very large sum of money or go completely under.

My parents had been delayed in the States, but I finally received a telegram that gave the date of their arrival home. I decided to go to Bogota with Marina to meet them at the airport. This resulted in our first marriage fight. Marina was frightened to go with me and face her in-laws. I had to pressure her to get her to accompany me. Everything went well, just like I thought it would when we got married. Dad invited us to lunch at a fine restaurant as a way of showing us there were no hard feelings.

Several months later, Dad confirmed to me that I’d done the right thing regarding the marriage. I was glad to hear this because I rarely did anything against his wishes. Dad told me he thought Marina was the right wife for me and that he couldn’t figure out how or where I had found her. He said he thought the marriage was ideal and was pleased no one had messed it up.

Marina and I made it clear to each other from the start that we wanted God to be at the center of our marriage. One night we discussed the growing, lucrative cocaine business. Several friends were making a lot of money as they worked in the drug trade. Moral and social stigmas against the cultivation and trafficking of cocaine diminished to the point that it seemed nearly everyone was either involved or wanted to be. We decided to sever our ties with some friends to avoid any association with the trade. Marina was concerned that I might be drawn into the drug business due to the enormous financial pressure I was under as I tried to save my business from bankruptcy.

The next morning another old friend drove up to our house in an expensive new car. He had a wealthy mafioso with him from Medellin, the capitol of the South American drug trade. They offered six million Colombian pesos if I would buy coca base (unrefined cocaine) for them. As a pilot, I could fly to the areas where the coca base can be cheaply obtained. It was an opportunity to make a lot of money. They wanted a deal of this size several times a month. They had the payout money with them, ready for me without any strings attached. They wanted to return in a week to pick up the transported coca base.

This time I did not think twice before I said no. In no uncertain terms would my relationship with God permit me to agree to their offer. I proceeded to tell them in a diplomatic manner what I thought of drug trafficking. I consider it to be trafficking with human souls, which are destroyed by their drugs. I knew that God’s favor was much more important than my financial problems. I had a gut feeling that very soon the drug traffickers, as well as the corrupt, bribe-receiving authorities who catered to them, would reap what they sowed. They cautioned me to remain silent concerning their offer and drove away.

I prayed that God would intervene in my financial situation. I admitted that most of my financial problems were due to my lack of planning. I told God that if He would help me out of debt, I would never borrow another cent without His approval.

When I returned to the bank that had the embargo on me, I was in for a big surprise. Their lawyer and manager were in jail and charged with fraud and extortion. Six people had filed charges against them, so the bank was swarming with auditors from the main office. In the process they determined that my case had been improperly handled. I met with the chief auditor and the regional manager of the bank; they apologized and refinanced my loan. Additionally, they forgave most of the previous interest charges and all the lawyer’s fees, which saved me thousands of dollars.

The good news at the bank was followed by a run of fish at Chaparral. For the first time in our fish business, we were able to catch a large quantity of fish that sold for over twice the usual price due to poor catches in the other areas. In ten days, we earned almost $15,000 and were able to pay for the repairs to the 182. After I made the payment, the Cessna aircraft dealer refinanced my overdue loan. I praised God for having mercy on me.

With the Cessna 182 back in service, I worked extra hard to pay my other obligations by flying meat and food to the distant jungle towns that had no road access. I also saw an opportunity to fly gasoline into the jungle for use in outboard motors and generators. It was dangerous to fly gas over the jungle, and few pilots would take the risk. Their reluctance drove the price of flights up dramatically, so I was able to meet my financial obligations and continue benefitting from this development for nearly two years.

With over 150 gallons of vehicle gas in the cabin and 80 gallons of Avgas in the wing tanks, it was potentially a very explosive situation. Any accident would likely cause the air[1]plane to burn. The airfields I used were all short and narrow with trees surrounding them, and the area was known for its poor weather. With the frequent rains, the strips were often wet, muddy, and very treacherous.

Sometimes a terrible fear of crashing and being incinerated would grip me. Any engine failure over the trackless jungle would spell the end of me. If I had not been under such severe financial obligations, I would never have pursued anything this dangerous. Fear is a terrible enemy. I learned to deal with it, but I was never completely free of it. When I felt that icy knot of fear building in my stomach, I would commit myself to God and sing as loud as I could over the noise of the engine.

Marital Tension

Over the years, I had acquired a very high opinion of myself due to being naturally optimistic. I had considered myself a decent Christian young man until after marriage. Problems that I covered up as a bachelor could no longer be hidden. I loved Marina with all my heart, but I soon found she seemed to have an uncanny ability to identify and irritate my weaknesses. We quarreled over many seemingly insignificant incidents. Sometimes our arguments would escalate into full-fledged fights. Fortunately, we realized it was important to reconcile our differences after an argument, but our marriage conflicts became increasingly more difficult to resolve.

I noticed a fundamental difference in the way men and women think. We sometimes seemed to be on different wave[1]lengths. I would focus on what had just occurred and was disrupting our relationship. I considered most of these things to be relatively minor. Marina would add the present incident to a long list of previous offenses, which began with our fight at the folk festival in San Martin before we were married. She would then negotiate from that position. Therefore, every time we had a fight, it kept getting harder and harder to reconcile our differences. I soon became worried about the direction our marriage was heading. I was shocked to notice that the majority of our fights seemed to be mostly my fault. As the pressure in our marriage became more intense, I noticed all kinds of dark, ugly traits in my character that were threatening to destroy our relationship. Our “ideal marriage” was soon in serious trouble. I feared that someday one of our fights would go too far and I would lose Marina. I couldn’t face life without her, but when she was mad at me, she could insult me and rake me over the coals like no one else could do.

I read books on psychology that described our problems to a tee, using fancy language to do it, but the information still failed to help much. Most of these books just made me more frustrated after I read them. As I became more and more con[1]fused, our marriage continued to come apart at the seams.

Our fights would start like this: First, I would have a bad day; something would go wrong in my work, and I’d be upset. I’d come home and Marina would do or say something that would set me off. I’d insult her with a derogatory remark. She wouldn’t appreciate this, so sometimes she’d react and insult me in return. I would then let loose some of my pent-up frustration and make a remark that would really hurt her feelings, such as, “If you talk and act like this, you must not love me anymore,” or “What kind of a Christian are you if you treat me like this?” I’d usually regret my words and try to patch things up, but she would feel so hurt that sometimes it would be a while before she’d speak to me again. It would sometimes take several days to get things corrected. I was concerned that I would eventually do or say something in anger that might permanently damage our relationship.

Sermon on the Mount

One day I ran into Ricardo Trillos. Ricardo was still studying the Sermon on the Mount, and he now understood parts of it better. God had been dealing with his marriage and applying the sermon to Ricardo’s family life. I joined Ricardo in his Bible studies of Matthew chapters 5 through 7 and soon understood parts of it as well. Matthew 5:22 hit me right squarely between the eyes. Jesus said, “You have been taught, ‘Thou shalt not kill,’ but I say, whoever even so much as harbors a grudge in his heart against his brother has killed him already and deserves to be brought to trial for murder. Whoever says to his brother, ‘You fool’ (the Greek word literally means “empty-head”) should be brought before the Sanhedrin; and whoever calls his brother ‘apostate’ (the Greek word literally means “empty-heart”) is in danger of hell’s fire.”

Jesus’ teaching precisely described my marriage fights. Initially, I let anger build inside; then I’d release it by insulting my wife’s intelligence. Finally, I would question the inner motives of her heart and devastate her feelings, which put our relationship into a tailspin.

I realized that it takes two to fight and even a small incident can start a downward spiral of cause and effect with the potential to destroy a marriage. I remembered my childhood at boarding school when another boy stepped on my toe. I’d step on his toe twice as hard to pay him back and to teach him a lesson. Unfortunately, the other boy never learned the lesson and nearly always got mad and punched me in the nose. The original minor incident would escalate into a wild free-for-all fistfight.

Jesus’ words hit me hard when it became obvious that He ran His kingdom on a different basis from mine. According to His words, I was in bigger trouble than I had imagined. I studied further and discovered that His teachings centered on the Golden Rule: “Do as you would be done to.” He also said, “Don’t judge and you won’t be judged. Don’t condemn and you won’t be condemned.” I realized that Jesus encouraged mercy and gave others the benefit of the doubt as to their heart motives. I started to apply Jesus’ teachings in my marriage.

As I understood Jesus’ sermon better, I’d apply it to my situation. Soon Marina and I were in a positive, improving, upward-bound relationship with God in the center. I had discovered the meaning of the Sermon on the Mount just in time.

I saw that most people want to do the right thing, and none of us enjoy problems, bitterness, strife, or violence. It’s all too easy, however, for us to get trapped in a negative, vicious cycle. Jesus’ description of the problem in Matthew 5:22 holds true for most failed marriages, broken friendships, split churches, and even severed international relationships. First, anger and resentment build up; then the insults fly. Finally, the other party’s motives and intentions are questioned and condemned. This sets the stage for physical violence to begin. Many terrible wars have begun with minor incidents that simply escalated out of control.

As I was writing this in the guerrilla camp, news came on the radio about the downing of a South Korean airliner by the Russians. Even the guerrillas were shocked by this report. My guards tuned their shortwaves to the Voice of America where we heard a press conference by President Reagan. Some of the guerrillas were impressed when the president said the U.S. would not retaliate with violence, but that we would use every nonviolent means to impress upon the Russians that this action was unacceptable international behavior. Reagan said he would like to draw Russia into the camp of peaceful, law-abiding nations in the interest of world peace. The next day, the guerrilla leaders issued orders to prohibit me from handling the radio and strictly ordered the guards to only tune in to Radio Moscow or Radio Havana Cuba.

It was interesting that the Soviet-controlled radio stations gave different accounts of the incident, depending on their target audience. The broadcasts aimed at Central and South America flatly denied shooting down an airliner. They called it a spy plane. The broadcasts on the higher wavelengths aimed at Europe and Japan admitted shooting down an airliner, but they claimed it had been done in the interest of national security.

In aviation, there is a maneuver known as a tailspin. If the pilot attempts to climb too fast with the rudder off-center, the airplane will pitch down and spin. The harder the pilot pulls back on the controls in an effort to go up, the worse the spin gets. Soon the airplane is out of control in a vicious downward spiral. Adding more power only causes the plane to spin faster. There is only one way to recover from a tailspin and avoid a fatal crash. The pilot must apply opposite rudder and then let go of the controls. The plane will then stop spinning by itself.

Ricardo and I discovered that in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus teaches how to get our lives on a positive, upward spiral that is the reverse of a tailspin. C. S. Lewis wrote in his book, Mere Christianity, “Good and evil are not static. They are dynamic. Each one continually feeds on itself just like compound interest in the bank.”⁵ Thus, good is continually getting better, while evil is continually getting worse.

⁵C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (New York: Macmillan Publishing Co., 1952).

John the Baptist came to prepare the way for Jesus by preaching, Repent ye, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand (Matthew 3:2). Then Jesus began His ministry and said, The kingdom of the heavens has come (Matthew 10:7). Jesus later said to His disciples, The kingdom of God is within you (Luke 17:21). The Sermon on the Mount explains how to enter the kingdom and how it operates, contrasting it with the way things work in the world. Ricardo and I found that the order, or sequence, which Jesus teaches is just as important as His themes.

Jesus began His sermon by saying, Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of the heavens (Matthew 5:3). Maybe the people who expected Him to preach on fire and brimstone were a little disappointed, but Jesus taught a positive message from the start. C. S. Lewis wrote, “Negatives are rarely useful in a debate, even when they are true.”⁶ Jesus pioneered this concept. The Greek word Jesus used that has been translated poor in spirit literally means “beggarly.” Jesus is describing a person who doesn’t have a spiritual cent. Jesus says the way into the kingdom of heaven is for us to declare spiritual bankruptcy. We can’t make a deal with God because we don’t have anything to offer. Everything we have originated from Him. The only way for us to enter God’s kingdom is for us to admit our faults, acknowledge we can’t make it on our own apart from Him, and fall upon His mercy.

⁶Ibid.

Jesus then said, Blessed are those that mourn, for they shall be comforted (Matthew 5:4). When we admit our mistakes and faults, and the full realization of how badly we have messed up sinks in, our natural reaction is to mourn. But cheer up! If we pay attention to Jesus, we will be comforted.

Jesus continued, Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth (Matthew 5:5). I had a hard time understanding the word meek and reconciling myself to it. I thought that a meek person would be a milquetoast, doormat, wishy-washy individual who lets everyone trample all over him. I didn’t understand what Jesus meant until I studied His words in Spanish and also looked up the word in Greek. I found that the word used for meek⁷ has no direct translation into English. In Greek, it means an attitude of heart and mind. In Spanish, manso comes close to portraying its full meaning. An example is found in the way manso is applied to horses. The horse that is manso is perfectly trained and completely obedient to the rider. It will permit the rider to guide it with a light pressure on the reins without having its spirit broken. It could be a thoroughbred and high-strung, but it has yielded its own plans and allows the rider to lead. This is a good example of true faith in Jesus Christ. Jesus wants us to permit Him to fit us into His master plan instead of us trying to fit God into our plans. He promised to completely fulfill and satisfy us if we allow Him to direct our lives.

⁷The Greek word is praos (πρᾷος).

Jesus continued His sermon by saying, Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied (Matthew 5:6). Righteousness can be defined as “doing what God wants or requires.” After we enter God’s kingdom by admitting our problems and yielding our plans, we develop a desire to get our act together and do things right. Some of Jesus’ thinking starts to overflow into our minds, and we begin to do what God wants because that’s what we now want. The Bible says that God wants to write His laws on the “tablet of our heart” (Proverbs 7:3). The apostle Paul said, Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus (Philippians 2:5). The Christian life isn’t a legalistic list of dos and don’ts that we struggle to keep in our own strength. It is a dynamic, vibrant, delightful relationship with the Creator of the universe.

Here we have the basic Christian message of repentance and faith. We know that struggling through life’s problems in our own strength is not the answer. On the other hand, if we just sit back and do nothing and expect God to do everything for us, we are disappointed when nothing seems to get done. What are we to do? I struggled with this for several years. Deep inside, I knew that there was something missing from my Christian experience. The same thing seemed to be missing in many of the churches I attended. What was missing?

Are you beginning to catch a glimpse of the incredible structure and understanding of cause and effect that make Jesus’ sermon such a masterpiece? It isn’t by chance that next Jesus said, Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy (Matthew 5:7). I didn’t understand this until one evening when I reflected on my flying career. I had flown over four thousand hours with almost half of it over the jungle. In eight years of flying over treacherous terrain, I never had even a minor accident. Many other pilots had been killed or maimed as they flew in the jungle. Others had demolished their airplanes. Even the missionary pilots, who had some of the best safety records in South America, were averaging a major accident every twelve hundred hours of flight time.

I prayed and asked God what was going on. Why did I uniquely receive special treatment? Other pilots had experienced terrible accidents while flying over jungles or mountains in Colombia. I knew that I wasn’t any better than many of the pilots who were killed in flight accidents; some of the casualties were better Christians than me too. I pressed God for an answer as to why I was being treated special. I had encountered more close calls than anybody, yet here I was unscathed, while other pilots made one mistake and lost their lives.

My mind suddenly flashed back to a scene years earlier when I was working on that house in Mapiripan, just before Dad and Ricardo arrived in the 170 for the first time. I recalled my prayer commitment to never turn down a needed mercy flight because of financial considerations. I kept that promise all those years. I heard a quiet voice deep inside me – a voice that over the years I learned to identify as the still, small voice of my Lord. His voice said, “You never turned anyone down who asked you for mercy, so I never turned you down when you were in need of my mercy. Even when you got out of line with that flight for Pedro, I kept you safe and taught you a les[1]son you needed to learn.

I was completely overwhelmed. For a few seconds, I caught a glimpse of how important mercy is to God. Jesus’ teachings center on mercy. That’s what Jesus’ earthly rescue mission is about. He wants us to put an attitude of mercy to work in our lives. He wants us to treat our fellow man in the same manner that we would like God to treat us.

Think about what a difference a merciful mentality could make in our actions and reactions every day. How many times a day do we pass up opportunities to have mercy on someone? Jesus said later in the sermon, “Do unto others as you would have others do unto you.” Over the centuries men have called this the Golden Rule. Mercy is also known as the Golden Key to inner peace and joy. The guerrillas removed my wallet, my watch, even my comb. They tied me with rope, separated me from my family, and damaged my plane. They are asking ten times more money for my release than my family is able to pay. Yet through this entire experience, I found that when I put Jesus’ merciful mentality to work and refuse to let my mind dwell on negative thoughts of hatred, bitterness, resentment, or revenge, no one is able to take my inner peace and joy from me.

Following Blessed are the merciful, Jesus said, Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God (Matthew 5:8). If admitting our faults and acknowledging our need for God with a poor in spirit attitude causes us to mourn, and if yielding our plans and letting God direct our lives with a meek attitude leads to a strong inner longing to clean up our act and do things right with a hunger and thirst for righteousness, then could a merciful attitude result in a pure heart? I think so.

Jesus described people as “peacemakers” who put a merciful attitude to work in their lives and give others’ inner motives the benefit of the doubt. Jesus continued by saying, Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the sons of God (Matthew 5:9). There is an acute shortage of peacemakers in our world today. As you learn to use mercy, the Golden Key, you can be a peacemaker in your own home with your family or maybe at work. When Jesus’ teachings are at work in your life, you can influence everyone you come in contact with.

Blessed are those who suffer persecution for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of the heavens (Matthew 5:10). Jesus’ seventh beatitude ends the same as His first. He wants to launch us off on a breathtaking, uplifting spiral of mercy and love that has no limits, much more exciting than Space Mountain at Disney World. He wants to help stop the fatal tailspin that most of us have been in. Jesus’ beatitudes describe a wonderful, positive, upward spiral of cause and effect that can transform us into mature “sons of God.”

We can witness creation as God takes selfish, proud, rebellious humans who are doomed to death and failure and makes them into sons of God who are magnificent, glorious creatures with whom He can spend eternity. Jesus said that we will be persecuted when we adhere to what we know is right. He didn’t promise us a bed of roses in this life. He promised us that during our time on earth He will eradicate our selfishness, pride, and rebellion if we authorize Him to do so. The treatment is sometimes painful, but He must dig deep enough into our lives to get at the root of our problems. There is no place in heaven for another human ego trip; justice and mercy are required and must go together.

In order to avail ourselves of God’s mercy, we must first recognize that He is just. As Christians, we must be willing to give individuals the benefit of the doubt by extending a merciful attitude, while at the same time we must be willing to stick our necks out for what we know is right. We must oppose evil with every legitimate means at our disposal. Can you understand now how Jesus loves the sinner but hates the sin?

As I was typing this last paragraph, one of the guerrillas, Mariano, asked a question. “Why did Jesus die? If He was really God, like you say, wouldn’t it have been enough for Him to have just left us His message on mercy and love? That you claim He died proves that you just made this all up. If I was God and came to earth like you say Jesus did, I wouldn’t have let anyone nail me to a cross. I would have called down the angels and defended myself. An all-powerful God would have never let Himself be put to death.”

I responded, “Jesus died because in a spiritual sense we’ve all been kidnapped. We have been kidnapped by our own selfishness. Our pride doesn’t let us admit when we are wrong. This has led to our rebellion against God. Selfishness, pride, and rebellion have held the whole human race captive, just like these three loops of rope around my neck and arms are holding me captive here in the jungle. If we continue going our own way, we will die and be lost.

“Jesus came to pay the ransom for us. He came and broke the power of sin and death. Yes, He died, but then He rose from the dead victorious. Now He is standing by to help us through life’s problems. If we place our lives under His authority within His kingdom, He will pry our fingers loose from the problems we insist on clutching. We are like the student pilot who enters a fatal tailspin; like the panic-stricken novice who can’t let go of the controls, even to save his own life. The harder he pulls back on the stick, trying to go up, the worse the spin gets, and the faster he loses altitude.

“Jesus is like the expert flight instructor who wrenches the controls away from the terrorized student pilot. He soon has the plane climbing nicely to a safe altitude. He then lets the student try it again. Now, if the student pilot continues to fight the instructor on the controls, there are only two courses of action open to the instructor. Most instructors would just land the airplane and tell the student to find a new instructor. The only other alternative is for the instructor to let the student make another mistake in the hopes that he will scare himself badly enough to pay attention to what the instructor is teaching him. Fortunately, Jesus seems to have a lot more patience than most flight instructors I have known.”

Author’s Note

I finished the final chapter (10) of the original book at noon on the fortieth day of captivity. I sent the forty completed pages of typewritten manuscript along with Vicente for delivery to Manuel, who was in a different camp. Chapter 9 has since been rewritten, several places have been abridged, and – decades later – the book was edited from start to finish to improve readability and enlarged to include additional concluding resources. Otherwise, the book is essentially what I forwarded to Manuel on my fortieth day. As much as is reasonable, I wanted to keep it true to the original text. If you have difficulty accepting any of its contents, remember I wrote it while being held captive in a guerrilla camp.

Sometimes I think that there are two worlds: a spiritual world and a physical world. Occasionally, while living in the physical world, we get a glimpse of the world to come. It presently seems this physical world is the real world, but someday it will fade away, and we will face reality Himself. We will be required to render a personal accounting to our Creator, the King of the universe. Are you prepared to meet Him face-to-face?