Miracles In El Salvador

By Robert Cook

This book tells the story of Rev Robert Cook's journey to El Salvador to learn about poverty in the lives of the people in the developing world. His self-declared search to understand third world poverty became a decades long learning experience that the poverty lifestyle of the Salvadoran people who became friends

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert C. Cook Publishing
• Release date: Feb 28, 2024
• ISBN: 9781959483144

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Copyright © 2023 by Robert C. Cook.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Printed in the United States of America

ISBN: 978-1-959483-12-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-959483-13-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-959483-14-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2024903004

History

2023.12.26

Table of Contents

Acknowledgments

Timeline of Rev. Cook’s Mission and Ministry Trips to El Salvador

Preface

Introduction

Baptism By Fire

Sixteen Days of HeartBreak

A Return Visit:

A Taste of Oppression

The Shadow of Death

Can They See What I See?

Expanding My Understanding of Mission

Blood Soaked Soil: An Orientation to Death Squads and Massacres

The Dark Night of My Soul

The Woman Angel in the Blue Dress

Get Out of Jail Free Card

The Miracle of Claudia Nadina

The Miracle of Birth: The Origin and Growth of Our Sister Parish Mission

The Miracle of Milagro: A Battle for Truth

Out of Darkness: The Miracle of a Legacy of Light Project

My Family Continues to Grow

Postscript: Undocumented Immigrants

This book is dedicated to my grandchildren, those who are among us today, and those who are yet to be, who are the greatest loves of my life.

Our father has been a source of inspiration since we were young children. We have been blessed by having such a stellar example in life. He preaches doing the right thing, treating others with respect, and helping anyone in need, and he then goes above and beyond his words. This makes being his sons and raising his grandchildren an honor. We have uttered the following words many times over the years: ‘When I grow up, I hope to be half the man my father is.’ This still holds true in our hearts.

—Steven and Jason Cook, Bob’s Sons

Acknowledgments

It takes a community to w rite a book. Thank you to everyone who contributed to the publication of Miracles In El Salvador, A Minister’s Journey for Justice and Hope. Thank you, Doug Maben, my friend and colleague of many years, for your time and talent as editor of my manuscript. I appreciate the many hours you spent making sense of my writing and giving clarity to the thoughts and experiences that are the narrative of this book. I also wish to express my deep gratitude to Jacque Maben, Doug’s beautiful and gifted partner in life, who not once now but twice has loaned me his time and energy to work on this new publication. Thank you, Dr. John Else, my long-time friend and colleague, for the hours you have spent reading the content for corrections for the improvement of the narrative— with overall consideration of content and organization. In the end, John’s insight and wisdom led the entire project in a whole new direction, toward the development of a new book, combining valuable, historic information from my first writing, When the Sun Comes Up in the West , with the further developments of the new mission that has become A Legacy of Light . Also, many thanks for the three days of hospitality in your lovely home in Omaha, where you, Doug, and I met and worked many long hours on the final detail and layout of the publication. And to John’s lovely partner, Cathy, a HUGE thank you for your humor that provided much needed levity for the tasks at hand, for the delicious meals you prepared to energize and encourage us in our labors, for the nightcaps in your living room around which many thoughts and new ideas arose, and finally, for allowing the dining room table to be converted into our workspace for the task of publication.

My gratitude also goes to Judge Tom Mott, who encouraged me to write this book, and to Rev Alex Thornburg, pastor of Heartland Presbyterian Church, who, over lunch, helped me to analyze the fruit of what I might publish. And of great importance are the churches I currently serve as a pastor: First Presbyterian Church of Vail, Iowa, and United Church of Westside, Iowa, whose reassurances and backing by both the leadership of those congregations, as well as from the membership at large, uplifted me and allowed me the inspiration to pursue the mission and message contained in this soon to be published book.

Furthermore, I feel I would be remiss if I do not offer tribute to the congregations and participants that, as of this writing, have sent medical supply and support delegations nearly every year since their inception in the early 1990s. Rev. Bill Calhoun, then of Newton First United Presbyterian Church, made the first delegation an ecumenical group, and several volunteers came along from the Sacred Heart Catholic Church in Newton. Veronica and Lee Mangrich from that church participated, and over the years, they and members of their family and friends have continued to organize and send the medical delegation. It continues to be a powerful mission and certainly deserves to receive spiritual and financial readers of this book.

And lastly, I want to thank Diamond Media Publications for the counsel and direction in the publication process. And a special thank you to the thoughtful and encouraging Ms. Sophie Smith, the counselor assigned to me to bring the publication to print, as well as Isabela White, who works closely with Sophie, helping with the untenable task of getting my book into print.

Timeline of Rev. Cook’s Mission and Ministry Trips to El Salvador

1990 – The first trip to El Salvador and El Tablón Canton as a representative of the Presbytery of Des Moines, as the Hunger Action Enabler, seeking projects to benefit from the Rural Harvest Offering.

1991 – Spontaneous trip to Guatemala made with Rev. Don Fisher to study Spanish. Rev. Fisher urged a trip to El Tablón, about which Rev. Cook had often spoken. While on the trip, they were stopped by Salvadoran military at a checkpoint, the result of which may have been an arrest or worse.

1992 – As an invited guest of Professor Marilyn Mueller to join in with a student delegation from Simpson College going to El Salvador and to assist in educating the students about the country and its current challenges.

1993 – At the invitation of Fr. Potasio of the Parish St. Joseph and its Parish team, arranged by Mike Hoffman of SHARE Foundation, to discuss a proposal that Rev. Cook come and work with the parish for one year.

1994 – The trip to begin the one-year of mission work with the St. Joseph parish.

1997 – A return trip by Rev. Cook and his sons, Steven and Jason, to show them the country and his mission work there.

1999 - Return to El Salvador to meet with the Priest of the parish of St. Joseph in Berlin to discuss the construction of a new church facility in El Tablón.

2001 – Returned to begin 6 years as a missionary with St. Joseph Parish, including participation in the development of Our Sister Parish Mission within the parish and the development of rainwater collection tanks to serve as a water source for cantons during the dry season. He also supported educational, medical, and agricultural projects in the cantons.

2007 – Rev. Cook retire from pastoral ministry in Des Moines Presbytery. He returned to active ministry the following year.

2016 – Fr. Candido invited Rev. Cook to come to the Berlin Area to begin organization of a project to bring solar-powered light to the Cantons on the mountainside surrounding Berlin. Rev. Cook incorporated, formed a 501c3 to obtain tax exempt charitable status for the project. He formed a Board of Directors for the project and named it A Legacy of Light. A 5-person team of Salvadoran residents was hired to install and maintain the solar light systems.

2019 - Rev. Cook and Board member, Dr. John Else, visited El Salvador together to observe the process and progress of the work of A Legacy of Light.

2021 – Rev. Cook revisited El Salvador to be updated on the progress of A Legacy of Light project and to plan for future development and implementation.

Preface

In as much as it depends on me, I wish to turn my dreams into realities.

M. Gandhi

The title of this book reflects the Miracles that occurred during my years living in and subsequently working on behalf of the country of El Salvador.

The most important miracle was a woman named Milagro (Spanish for miracle) Rodriguez. My experience with her is detailed in Chapter 14. She is a woman of vision and is committed to justice—she is the spark and the energy in the work that enabled the Parish of St. Joseph to care for the needs of its parishioners. She is brave in the face of opposition, and she even stayed in Berlin during the war rather than escape to the safety of San Salvador. In every respect, she is honest and faithful to her commitment to peace and justice. She is kind and determined. She cares for her disabled mother. Furthermore, she is a faithful friend who took care of me from my arrival and throughout my life in El Salvador. A false rumor circulated, and I made extensive efforts to correct that misinformation.

The second miracle is the formation and action of A Legacy of Light, a non-profit providing solar electrification of small farm family homes on the Berlin mountainside in eastern El Salvador. Fr. Candido of the Parish of Saint Joseph contacted me in 2016 requesting that I organize this project. I created a non-profit corporation, obtained tax exemption status (Chapter 15), and continued my ongoing El Salvador work through the fund-raising and implementation of solar panels on homes of low-income rural families.

This is my second book about my experience with El Salvador. The first was "When the Sun Comes Up in the West (2012). The content of this new book reflects the most important pieces of the Salvadoran legacy that will continue beyond my years. It will include the life of Milagro Rodriguez and the influence she had on the development of Our Sister Parish Mission. Without her continued care and support, Our Sister Parish Mission may never have happened. The other is the story of A Legacy of Light, a project of solar electricity for small family farm homes on the Berlin Mountain.

March 24, 2021, I turned 78 years old. In 2006, while eating breakfast in a rooftop café in Panajachel, Guatemala, I made one of the most difficult decisions of my life. It was time for me to leave Our Sister Parish Mission, a mutual mission/ministry between Des Moines Presbytery and the Parish of St. Joseph in Berlin, El Salvador. With Presbytery’s permission, I had moved from Des Moines, Iowa, to Berlin, El Salvador, in 2001 to serve as founding missionary for the ministry. The seed for the relationship began in 1990 when I made the first trip of my life outside the United States to learn about Salvadoran poverty. My talent is not one of administrating existing programs but envisioning hopes and dreams and embracing the challenge of making them come true. During the weekend retreat to Guatemala, it became apparent that programs for potable water, medical care, and education, which had become the mission of Our Sister Parish, people I had come to love like my own family, needed someone who could administer these dreams that had become reality. To leave Our Sister Parish Mission in 2006, however, did not mean a decision to abandon the Salvadoran friends I had grown to love and trust with my life. This book is my telling of what Paul Harvey would often describe in his commentaries as the rest of the story.

I had officially retired as of 2007, at least I believed I had. That was what I told everyone. El Salvador had become my home. I had become accustomed to the smog of rush hour traffic that unmercifully jammed all the streets of San Salvador. In the six years that I had lived in Berlin, I traveled the streets of San Salvador frequently. The layout of the streets was determined by the mountainous landscape, and there were plenty of landmarks. Only once did I have my pickup stolen. This took place soon after I arrived in Berlin. The carjackers approached me when I stopped for a red light. Showing me their guns but not pointing them directly at me, I smiled slightly as they said, "Tu pickup esta newstras…" (Your pickup is ours). I was out of my pickup with lightning speed, and they jumped in and drove away. Once was enough of a lesson to teach me where to and where not to go.

My comfort level of living in El Salvador was such that when I retired from the work of Our Sister Parish Mission, I decided to continue to make it my home. I found a lovely, spacious 3-bedroom home with a 2-car garage, patio, maid’s quarters, washer and dryer, and a hillside cascading with flowers and trees. The rent was only $230 per month with an option to buy for $35,000 at the end of the year. I was very happy in the home, but it turned out to be a horrendous experience (Chapter 13).

I was now homeless. The home I had occupied at Our Sister Parish was now occupied by the interim missionary. I had transformed my home in Des Moines into a hospitality house for ex-offenders. At 64 years of age, I had lived in 23 different locations. Each move had been another step to define my life. I was free of the fear I had carried for many years. It is ironic that it was El Salvador, a country filled with gang violence and a recent 12 year-long civil war that was the setting for over 100 massacres and the disappearance of 75,000 people, that had become for me a safe haven to protect me from fears of personal violence.

So, for a variety of reasons, I decided to return to Iowa, but my commitment to El Salvador never wavered. Fr. Candido’s invitation in 2016 to provide solar panels to light the houses of families on the Berlin mountainside provided a very specific set of goals. I quickly created a non-profit, A Legacy of Light, assembled a capable team of implementors in El Salvador, headed by Milagro Rodriguez and a Board of Directors, and began raising money and channeling it to the team for implementation. As of July 2021, A Legacy of Light has installed solar panels on 125 homes (which provides three bulbs for light in the home, power for recharging cell phones, and a battery to operate the system). The team has just begun to replace batteries (A Legacy of Light bought newer lithium batteries with 5-year normal life) and provide other repairs to keep them operating effectively. Experience has proven that maintenance of these systems is an important issue, so the maintenance costs will be included in all future budgets. Hundreds of families on the Berlin mountainside still need and desire solar panels. Significant amounts of contributions are required to meet these needs.

Contributions can be made c/o Deb Quant, Treasurer, A Legacy of Light, Westside State Bank, P.O Box 224, Westside, IA 51467.

Introduction

I am neither a prophet, nor the son of a prophet,

I am but a common man,.. and the Lord said to me, go speak to my people."

Amos 7.14-15

I am a retired missionary to El Salvador for Des Moines Presbytery. I never felt a desire to live in a foreign country, nor was I enamored with the vision of a missionary vocation. Nevertheless, from 1990 to 1999, by fate, design, and spiritual movement, I was immersed in a quest to know the political and social dynamics of Third World poverty, which became the force of change that made El Salvador the focus of my new faith journey.

The genesis of my decision to move to Berlin, El Salvador, to work with the Parish Team of the Parish of St. Joseph began in November of 1990. That was the year I visited the Cantón El Tablón, a community of dirt- floor homes, one of the seventeen cantónes on the mountainside in the municipality of Berlin. El Tablón had been chosen by Des Moines Presbytery to receive 50% of its 1990 Rural Harvest Offering, an offering designed to impact hunger by providing developmental resources for selected projects in developing countries. As Hunger Action Enabler for the Presbytery, part of the responsibilities was to write promotional materials for the offering. The visit to El Tablón grew out of my certainty that, by seeing first-hand the poverty of a developing nation, I could do a better job of promoting the Hunger Offering in the ensuing years. El Tablón came to be the catalyst of a new spiritual direction in my life and ministry. My visit to that cantónes changed me forever.

When I made that trip in 1990, El Salvador was in the tenth year of the civil war. My visit to El Tablón taught me of the fear that can imprison the souls of the innocent, especially women and children, caught in the midst of the combat of war. The sixteen days I lived with the residents of El Tablón taught me that poverty has a repugnant odor. Its sounds are disconcerting, and the sight of it instills mental anguish that brings silent sobs in the night. Environmentally, it is a scene that melds into an array of discontent and disorder. It erodes the foundation of the soul and eventually evolves into a surrealistic aberration of reality and life.

I sat many hours under a large tree in front of the home where I slept. The tree is my personal monument that marks the place where a truth gradually seeped into my soul, bringing about unfathomable dismay—a truth that was an affront to what had been conveyed to people through the political propaganda of the United States to excuse funding for El Salvador’s war against the poor. The convenient lie told repeatedly was that Communist revolutionaries were fighting for control of the El Salvadoran government and its people so as to recreate El Salvador as a staging area for the Communist march through Mexico to invade the U.S. Over and over again, I witnessed consequences of extreme poverty in the lives of the people of El Tablón. What I saw belied any truth to the invasion scenario, and more logically, the revolution was a grassroots movement to liberate the poor from oppressive poverty.

From the shade of my tree, I witnessed two women tie a gaping machete wound shut with a strip of cloth from a t-shirt, a little girl whimper from the pain of a jaw swollen caused by an abscessed tooth, a mother worry for the life of a baby with uncontrollable diarrhea, a child with a stomach distended from malnutrition, and no medical care for anyone, anywhere. Sadness or fear, or maybe both, replaced the sparkle in the eye of many children. A tortilla for lunch was common. There were no sweets for children, let alone a balanced diet to quell the ever-present pang of hunger and provide for a child’s proper growth and development. There was not a day that any child went off to school because the war made it too dangerous for any travel to the school, which was only available through the sixth grade. Moreover, the building had been falling into disuse and lack of repair due to the war economy eating away at human resources. These were only some of the daily worries of a people of whom Jesus said, Blessed are the poor. At that point in time, the primary motivation of their lives was survival. Education would have to come later.

For certain, there was more that I witnessed, but by the fourth day, I had learned more about third world poverty than I had bargained for, and I simply wanted to go home. I yearned to go home. I was aching to go home. I counted the days when I could walk away from it all and never have to look back. I checked the calendar... twelve days, and my heart filled with despair.

If the house where I slept still stood, it would be the monument rather than the tree. It was in that house that I experienced the dynamics of Jesus’ words: You shall know the truth, and the truth will set you free. Truth, I learned one night, sitting and conversing with five women— set-ting me free from a brutal violence that had cowered in protective denial within me for five decades. The truth of that remembered brutality united me with the Salvadoran poor on a seemingly common ground that I needed in order to complete my education about third world poverty. It would be the penultimate point that would ensure that I would never be able to walk away from what I had learned in those few days and not look back. The truth, my own truth that I rediscovered, and the power of that moment with those women are recorded later in this book. It would take many months for it to be fully known, but it began to emerge from vague memory briefly one night in El Tablón. And it was indeed the truth of brutalization that bridged time and space to define a mutual affirmation of life between myself and the poor of El Salvador. I considered long and hard as to whether I should include this part of my story in these writings. My best friends, Doug Maben and Frank Cordaro, convinced me this knowledge of brutalizing violence was key to the telling of my story. It took more than a year of counseling for me to heal those memories.

Each year, until 1999, I visited El Salvador. Sometimes I led delegations in order to educate them of the reality of the poverty with which Salvadorans lived. Sometimes I went alone. Always, always, I felt the pull to act and do something, but resources were limited for making much of an impact on the incredible privation of that land and its people. I took it one year at a time. From my perspective in the early 1990s, I could not imagine what the years ahead would bring. I only knew that the poverty I encountered each time I returned to El Salvador brought more disquiet to my soul and a greater sense of unity with the poor of El Salvador.

The moment of decision came one evening in the winter of 1999. Cold winds whipped at my face, and the darkness of the season set the stage for what began to illumine my mind. I had been locked out of my home, and circumstances were that only by breaking a window could I access the comfort of warmth inside. I sensed conflict stir in my soul. My discomfort in the cold was a moment in time, but poverty is a barrier to all comforts all the time. The refrain God hears the cry of the poor became a reoccurring echo in the silence of the night, and from it came the conscious recognition of what had been until then an unspoken tug in my heart. I was being called to live with the poor in El Salvador

I began a process of putting my life in such an order as would allow me to move to the mountainside in eastern El Salvador, to that place called Berlin. It took me two years to complete that task. The message I received that night was to leave behind my preconceptions of what my life is or should be and allow the Spirit to recreate my way of life. So, without the knowledge of how or from where the resources would come, I chose to accept the call to a life journey that only faith can initiate. It was faith alone that allowed me to believe that the resources would come and that God’s grace would prevail in my plans to move away from the area I had called home for fifty-eight years. Words written by the theologian and martyr Dietrich Bonhoeffer come to mind: What does it mean to believe, I mean, in-so-far as we might be willing to give our life for it?²

In the beginning, ignorance reigned regarding my knowledge of Salvadoran life. And it would have been presumptuous of me to say I had an exact plan