In the Shadow of Death

In an effort to promote peace, in December of 1986, then Philippine President Corazon Aquino declared a unilateral ceasefire for the government forces against attacking rebel organizations. In turn, the rebels took advantage of the opportunity to raid homes and establishments to acquire weapons and funds for their cause, and some such incidents were published in the newspapers then.

We were then renting a house in a subdivision in San Pedro, Laguna, owned by a Filipino family working abroad. Through their dollar earnings, they were able to make their house look nice on the outside because of the glazed tiles on the front walls, with glass and aluminum front doors.

Apart from pastoring congregations, one of my duties then was to be responsible for the repair and maintenance of vehicles owned by the church, all of which were second-hand. Thus, with expected troubles, various models can be seen parked in front of our house, including one imported computer-controlled car, a Buick Skylark owned by our American Regional Director.

Also, since our living room was spacious, all church activities (Spokesman & Graduate Clubs, DELS classes, choir practices, etc.) were held there and attended by church members, most of whom have their own cars. Thus the street in from of our house would regularly be lined up with cars most days of the week. Moreover, a vibrant late December 1986 garage sale with music and loud speaker was also done at our house garage.

Thus, from outside appearances, we were looked upon as wealthy. Unknown to us then, in the eyes of lawless elements, they spotted an attractive weakness. We did not then care to have any dog, or to maintain outside security lights because we know, we have no wealth to protect.

That Friday, I was not able to finish a repair job before the Sabbath, so the car parts were on the living room. Since it smelled of kerosene, we left all doors open and unlocked to allow fresh air.

The drama begins

That January 16, 1987, 6:30 pm, Friday, after praying for our Sabbath meal, we saw three masked men armed with weapons surround us. My eyes dimmed as I realized this was not a cruel joke.

They announced in Tagalog dialect the hold-up; they ordered everyone not to make any false move, or make any noise, not look on their faces, lest there will be harm or death. They then demanded: weapons, cash, and jewelry; and also ordered that we should all lie face down on the floor.

While my instinct to protect my family was triggered, I quickly assessed that it was futile to resist even if I knew some judo. I was the only adult male and any of us could get hurt or die. I reckon that material things can be replaced, but life cannot, and also, this is not the only day of vengeance. So, I ordered my family to cooperate and just pray. When their leader heard the word “pray” he taunted us and said, “You better pray because this will be your last.”

Since my wife was pregnant then and I abhorred such indignity, I requested that we be allowed to sit and bow our heads around the table, rather than be hog-tied on the floor, which they agreed.

Regarding their demands, I stated that we don’t have weapons (only an air rifle), and have no cash (except 300 pesos in my wallet), and no jewelry (except fancy ones).

The leader did not believe me since he was informed I was an official of a big company. So he pressed the nozzle of his gun against my head, and demanded that I cooperate. Not afraid, I said, I am a church pastor and that he can verify that from the letters on my desk. When he heard “pastor” he said, “Oh, you have plenty of money because your members give to you.” I said that may be true among others, but our organization is unique in that our members do bank-to-bank deposits (which was actually the case in Metro Manila then).

In an effort to prove me wrong, they opened every drawer and cabinet of every room. Seeing we have no such weapons, cash, or jewelry, the leader came back and pressed the blade or his diver’s jagged dagger against my throat and said, “You are making it difficult for us! You better tell us where you are hiding those things.” I said, I have already told you the truth.

Later, I heard him tell his companions, it is a shame that they can’t bring back anything on this mission. So, he commanded them to gather any appliance and tool of value which they placed in two of our suitcases. So they got my power tools, automotive diagnostic tools, camera equipment, our beta tape collection of Herbert Armstrong’s telecasts, our camping equipment, our wristwatches, and even the savings of our children in coins.

When I heard them talk about planning to molest my 23 year-old sister who was staying with us, I loudly and fearlessly ordered them not to touch her! For which thankfully they obeyed.

Then the leader came and said they have a problem. They were prepared to put into their shoulder bags weapons, cash, and jewelry, and then just ride a bus. But now, they need a car. I said they can get the key on my table. Since the car is insured, it will not be a great loss to us, I thought to myself. But he said they only know how to drive a carabao—but not a car.

They also attempted to take as a hostage our youngest daughter, Cheryl who was almost five years old then, but when she cried, they thought it will alert neighbors and will be added trouble for them, so dropped such idea.

After about two hours of ransacking our house, (also waiting for 9 p.m. when soldiers manning military checkpoints will go home), they demanded that we go and I drive. I protested that we have very little gas (less than 1/8 tank). He said they are ready to hold-up a gas station for gas. Also, not having tuned-up the car more recently, I said the engine is not reliable and (in literal Tagalog) can die. He retorted (perhaps knowing I knew auto mechanics from what he saw), if your car dies, you also die.

With his handgun stuck to the back of my head, he ordered me to rise and head for the door toward the car. I did not even have any chance to bid or say farewell to any in my family.

Showing ignorance with vehicles, the leader got angry when the dome light went on when the car door was opened. Also, when the turn signal light flashed, because by habit, I signal before making a turn. Likewise, they did not know about a car luggage compartment, so the two men at the back each had on his lap a suitcase, while their leader was beside me with his handgun pointed at me. He ordered me not to make any signals, contact, or pass by any police or military checkpoint. He also ordered me not to pass through the expressway because of the need to pass through the toll gate, and that we were going to Bicol that night following the old highway.

While I kept praying all along, I wanted to penetrate into their minds and with psychology hope to turn it around in my favor. As expected, the leader refused to carry out a conversation. But somehow, he revealed his anger with wrong data from his informer, making me a wrong target.

One of the men got off with one of our suitcases in Sto. Tomas, Batangas, as the leader told him to make a report to their commander. By about 11 p.m., we reached the town of Tiaong, Quezon, and I was surprised to find the gas station there still open at that hour! The leader asked if P200 worth of gas was okay? Unwilling to cooperate, I just nodded, though I know it won’t get us far. As we approached Lucena, Quezon, by past midnight, I told him we were low on gas, and there were no more gas stations open along the way.

I kept praying in my mind, recalling many of the Psalms, and God’s promises, and wondering what happened to those left behind. I entertained thoughts of crashing the car, since I had my seat belt and they had none; or hoping for a calamity of some sort to deliver me from them.

At almost 3 a.m. and we were already way into the Bicol region, I told them we definitely are near empty on gas, and that they better chose where to stop lest we be overtaken by pursuers and they get killed. They began to obey me, and chose a spot with a house. Before getting off, they wisely ordered me to make a U-turn to divert any possible pursuers (but it was also in my favor).

They got off with the one remaining suitcase, but then ordered me to get off and lie face down on the ground. I knew they will pump a bullet in my head. I boldly refused preferring to die at the wheels, and I was ready. When they did not insist, I knew I now had the upper hand, and commanded them to return my remaining money, which the leader threw into the back seat.

As soon as that was done, I sped off full blast like a bird out of the cage, calculating that if they fired any shots, they could hardly hit the tires. I said to myself that as long as the car runs, I’ll drive it, and if it stops for lack of gas, I will just abandon it and take a bus, and come back for it.

Miraculously, on an empty tank, the car traveled another six hours back to our home, arriving safely at about 9 a.m. the following day.

Events at the home front

I learned later that when we left by car, three other men stayed behind to disconnect our phone and hid the unit, then put off the lights, while they guarded outside the house until midnight to prevent anyone seeking help. (I also learned later that my two oldest sons, David and Daniel aged 15 and 13 respectively then, during the hostage situation were just waiting for my order to help attack the intruders, even if it meant death to them.)

When the lights were put out by the remaining intruders, my wife and children retreated to the most secure place in our house (bathroom inside the master bedroom) and locked all doors behind them. They prayed earnestly, while my eldest son, David, using my Bible attempted to conduct a Bible study in my place as our custom was on Friday nights. Everyone continued fasting.

Past midnight, my wife sent our two oldest sons to my ministerial assistant then in the same village to report by phone the incident to our American regional director, who in turn called headquarters in the United States requesting for prayers that night.

Final outcome

In the midst of such trial of faith, and crises, it is significant that not a drop of blood was shed, and not a single hair was lost. Not only that, God very realistically and dramatically manifested His miraculous divine power and presence by doing the impossible for all of us to witness! He lovingly caused our 2.0 Ford Cortina car to travel for over six hours on empty tank to bring me home! Also, within one year, all of the material things we lost were gained back one way or another. And as a bonus, in the afternoon of my arrival, due to the trauma, my wife labored two weeks prematurely and gave birth to our seventh gifted child, which we named Meryl Lynn. That was on the Sabbath afternoon, January 17, 1987.

On top of the character and faith built through that fiery trial, the most important thing to remember is that God did not fail in His promises, even if we had to pass through the shadow of death…