At the beginning of 1966, the number of U.S. military personnel in South Vietnam totaled 184,300; South Vietnamese military forces totaled 514,000 including the army (ARVN) and the Regional Force and Popular Force (the “Ruff-Puffs”) militias; the North Vietnamese People’s Army of Vietnam (PAVN) numbered 400,000, most still in North Vietnam; 50,000 People’s Army of Vietnam (PAVN) also known as the North Vietnamese Army, leaders and soldiers infiltrated South Vietnam during 1965. The U.S. estimated the number of Viet Cong (VC) and North Vietnam Army soldiers in South Vietnam at nearly 280,000 by June 1966, including part-time guerrillas.
Into all this commotion entered a barely 19-year-old Southern California lad; too tall and blonde to hide for very long. Was I afraid? Of course. The unknown is often the carrier of fear. On the other hand, I was somewhat numb. Before I ever arrived, I had determined that I would die there, so I began to end my life by selling all that I cherished and subtly ending friendships and relationships. I somehow thought that this would make it easier on those that I truly loved. Did I mention that I was barely 19? So foolish.
There were approximately 58,220 American soldiers that died in the Vietnam war, and many, many more that suffered from the effects of Agent Orange inflicted on us in country. An unknown number of those became casualties of that war several years after returning home; some were close friends. Here’s a number that is not openly spoken of, but with some research you can find these figures. Related to the Vietnam war, 94,497 suicides were identified. How many more that were not identified or connected to that war could there be?
Because of those statistics, out of respect for the fallen and their families, I have chosen to not relate personal experiences that I had while in country as I have been requested, except to say the following: I have seen things I did not want to see, neither can I forget those visions of evil. I have heard things that I continue to hear out of nowhere, that I pray might end. I have smelled, felt, touched, even tasted things I never dreamed that I might experience; and even as I write some of those senses are returning. I learned that trust was a thing to pursue, but one never completely holds it close in a war zone.
Even toward the end of 1967, the airport in San Francisco was frightfully crowded with a different America than the one I had left behind. Long-haired freaky people everywhere I looked. Flowers and beads, bell-bottomed pants, flip-flops or moccasins, and strange aromas emitting from each person. For this young man the scariest was the American woman with the longest legs and shortest skirts I had ever seen. Hair was flowing everywhere you looked.
I finally was allowed on a flight to Los Angeles, California. Since I was flying military standby, I was the last to board and there was only one seat available, an aisle seat next to a 6-year-old boy. I was in uniform, so the lad asked me where I was coming from. At that moment, and knowing no reason not to be proud, I told him. I thought he might be somewhat excited to be sitting with a hero. A flood of emotions came into my mind and heart when he responded, “My daddy says you are all baby killers!” Oh, how the blood filled my face!
From that moment until about 10 years ago, I never spoke of being a Vietnam Veteran, in fact, I began to dress and grow my hair and beard much like what I saw in that airport in San Francisco. I was hiding in plain sight.
After discharge from the military, having survived Vietnam, I began to try to rebuild some of the life I had put to death before. Most relationships were not too difficult to restart, but there was one special person in my life that I felt I may have lost altogether. I was deeply in love with her, but in foolishness, I gave her room to seek another love. This was a difficult period in my life.
I also struggled with some personal issues of PTSD, though I did not know what it was or if it could be addressed. I simply thought that every now and then, I felt that I was losing my mind. I never shared those episodes with anyone for that reason.
Well, as a few months went by, I found my way into at least a friendly relationship with my long-time heart throb, Ruthi Parker. I did not want to blow it this time. Oh, how I loved and longed to be with her. Eventually, in an hour of desperation, I prayed to the God I had ignored when I needed one most in Vietnam. I did not know Him, but I knew of Him. I asked Him through many tears if I could have her as my wife. He came through for me and we were married on February 20, 1971, and I quickly forgot how God had answered a desperate prayer. I wish I could say that we had a storybook marriage, but we all know of the challenges we face in those early years. We survived the struggles and managed to grow a family together. We were in love, but we did not know the truth of love yet. That understanding would begin during the first week of February in 1978. We both were saved through faith in Jesus Christ and were soon baptized together into Bristol Street Baptist Church in Santa Ana, California.
What I did not know at the time, was that God was moving through that church to change several young people’s lives. I was one. God planted a seed within my heart deeply that first year as a Christian that very quickly grew into a struggle with a call to ministry; a call to pastor and to preach the holy Word of God. I knew that the call was real, but I had trouble believing that God could ever use one such as I.
Finally, I surrendered to God’s call into pastoral ministry in January of 1981 and was licensed in March by First Southern Baptist Church of Hemet, California, and ordained in 1983 by North Heights Baptist Church in North Bakersfield, California.
I attended Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary in Ft. Worth, Texas and later graduated from Golden Gate Baptist Theological Seminary in Mill Valley, California.
God called me to pastor 3 churches totaling 43 years including 20 years here at Green Valley Bible Chapel in Green Valley, California. At present, I am overseeing the building of a new Worship Center right in the heart of Green Valley. I am keenly watching as God continues to provide finances and materials for His House of Prayer.
I was also called to mission work internationally in Russia, China, Vietnam, Malaysia, and multiple mission trips into Mexico. I have been involved in various prayer ministries since 1993, and at one time in the city of Tehachapi, California, I had a citywide group of intercessors on loan from many other denominational churches in town to assist me in monthly prayer over the city from a high vantage point.
While CSBC Prayer Consultant, I assisted churches and associations in the training and development of personal prayer and corporate prayer ministries. As Impact Prayer International’s founder and director, I have worked across denominational and international borders to do the same.
In addition to pastoring, God has called me to encourage Christians worldwide into a deeper, more intimate relationship with Jesus Christ; one that is real and personal, which comes through a life of prayer. This world needs praying people! God seeks praying people! In addition to leading souls to Jesus Christ as Savior, my passion is to excite Christians to the possibility’s prayer opens before them. I do not understand exactly why God chose this dumb old country boy from Missouri and Kansas to work within His glorious Kingdom, but I am so humbled and honored that He did and never gave up on me. With God all things are possible! He wants you. He wants to use you. Draw near to God and He will draw near to you.
