Dear Family,
It’s been a quiet week in Fukuoka. Last week on June 19th in our English class, Tom, who is the nicest guy you will ever meet and who seldom says much, suddenly burst forth with the astounding and emotional declaration that it was the 68th anniversary of the fire-bombing of Fukuoka. He recalled how as a little boy when the bombs began to explode, he said to his father, “Look at the fireworks.” “No, son,” his father replied, picking him up and running for the bomb shelter, “those are bombs. The Americans are bombing us.” The bombing raid began just before midnight on June 19, 1945 and lasted for two hours. An estimated 200 tons of incendiary bombs were dropped, destroying about 4 square kilometers of the city and 1/3 of its buildings. 900 people were killed, another 600 seriously injured – terrible, yet insignificant numbers when compared to the damage inflicted upon Japan’s larger cities.
Tom didn’t seem angry, but rather, at once exhilarated and saddened by the memory and very emotional. Who wouldn’t be - having that experience as a child, still vivid in his mind, and having lived with the legacy all these years? In the midst of what is usually a jovial and free-wheeling conversation period, we were all suddenly sobered and saddened by the account. Yet there we were, a group of Japanese being taught English by a couple of Americans in an atmosphere permeated with love and good will. It isn’t that Tom’s experience was irrelevant, but rather that it has been overwhelmed by the good will of intervening years. If there is a legacy of Japanese-American relations, Tom’s spontaneous account in the midst of our class only made it all the sweeter.
Pat works really hard as mission secretary. I sit, leaning back with my feet up on the desk and marvel at her accomplishments and especially the efficiency she has imposed on her assignment. Among other things, she sends, over the mission president’s signature, a nice welcoming letter and package of materials and questionnaires, to each newly called missionary. At first these packages were sent as hard copy by snail-mail. A few months ago, faced with the increasing numbers of missionaries coming, and with the help of some skilled office mates, she began sending the welcoming packages out by e-mail, a huge time and paper saver. Each Tuesday, from the church missionary department, she receives notification of the newly called missionaries from the previous week, along with their recommendation materials. She quickly reviews the materials, then prepares and sends the welcoming package. Now here’s where it got really interesting last week. The day after sending such a package to a young man in Brazil, he e-mailed right back that he was thrilled to learn he was coming to Japan, ‘thank you very much for the information,’ as he hadn’t yet received his official call from Pres. Monson.
We haven’t yet fully recovered from that gaffe, but as we view it now, it opens up whole new vistas. When word gets out about her conduit to the missionary department, we imagine phone calls and e-mails coming in from all over the world, asking for advance information. Plus, the efficiency alone is impressive, all those famous call letters – bypassed, pre-empted, gone! Think of the savings? Where has the BYU Industrial Engineering Department been? Why did no one think of this before Sister Beus descended on the world? Just trying to stay alive, we remain your faithful far-eastern correspondents,
Mom and Dad
PS Well, you know who wrote this letter! I now hold the letters for a week before sending them, hoping that the Missionary Dept. is catching up with the real world. It was a bit of an embarrassment to the Mission President. Efficiency run amok! This ramping up of the work is not without its challenges. Steve has his own issues, getting the right money on the right missionary ATM cards. (We are getting quite a few duplicate last names so it is easy to get mixed up.) We’re glad we don’t work in the hospital nursery—who knows whose baby we might give to which mom! At least we succeed somewhat in keeping life interesting in the office scene.
My wife insists on a disclaimer – so I will add this: We have ultimate respect for the calling of a missionary. We have seen much compelling evidence that missionaries are called of God through a modern-day prophet. We know that when one of the Quorum of Twelve Apostles sits in the room to make the selection of where a missionary will serve, that it is, in effect, the hand of the Lord pointing the way.
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