#80 our story

The high school seniors began their practicum (student practice) at various businesses or government agencies.

We flew to Houston where Malcolm picked us up and drove us to Lake Charles. We are staying at Mark and Gina’s again. Debbie brought me all of the 2018 Christmas cards and fotos so I will be addressing those this week.

 

In 1992 or thereabouts we attended a church in Chimaltenango. One of the ladies in the church introduced me to her husband who actually lived in the United States but was back visiting her.

A few nights later the woman burst into our bedroom crying, “He is dead.” I did not even know the woman very well. She asked me to take her to the hospital in the city to claim his body which I did. Then she asked if I would preach his funeral. I could not speak Spanish very well but I agreed.

As I was introduced by the pastor and entered the pulpit a well dressed woman entered and began screaming, “You cannot bury him. The hospital killed him and we need to do an autopsy.” The wife fainted. I had no idea what to do but it was decided that we would just leave right then and take him to the cemetery.

We placed his casket in the back of a pickup and began walking the 2 miles to the cemetery. As we approached there were half a dozen soldiers blocking our path. They told us the coroner was on the way. They made us remove the body from the coffin and when the coroner arrived they did an autopsy. It was a few hours later and in darkness that we were able to bury him.

When a person is buried the people attending the funeral stay as witnesses to watch as the bricks are laid to seal the tomb. The lady waving the court order was a lawyer for the man’s family. They were not Christians and he had died in a Christian hospital they were accusing the hospital for the death. There is more to this story.