Chapter Twenty

Puente Tampico

Cameron Clapper and I hurried across South Temple Street, neither of us wanting
to arrive late to this impromptu mission reunion. Earlier the previous day, H. Aldridge
Gillespie had been called to serve in the Second Quorum of Seventy, and now, Sunday
evening after General Conference, alumni from the Mexico Tampico Mission gathered at
The Inn at Temple Square to visit with our erstwhile mission president. Many of my
closest mission friends had come from various corners of Utah—Scott Jenson, James
Burch, Joseph Rule, Allen Shaw, and many others congregated in that hotel banquet
room. We laughed at each other’s stories of mission antics and soberly nodded as we
listened to each other relate spiritual mission experiences. As the reunion wound to a
close, the Prez, now Elder Gillespie, called for order in the room. We sat in a semi-circle,
anxiously awaiting words from our beloved mentor.
He reported to us on the progress of the Mexico Tampico Mission. They had
recently baptized 300 people in a single month, and the current record for most baptisms
by a zone was held by Zona Bosque, who had baptized fifty people some months
previous. The mission was now aiming for 350 baptisms, and hoped to achieve that lofty
goal before the president had to leave Tampico for his new calling. We were all thrilled
to hear of the successes being won in our former fields of labor.
The Prez also outlined the new teaching techniques being used by missionaries in
the field. With help from the area presidency, the mission had developed a “breve charla
uno,” which eliminated all of the unnecessary stories and anecdotes that missionaries
inevitably share with investigators. The missionaries were instructed to simply teach a
principle and then testify, teach another principle, and then testify. The follow-up to the
discussion no longer followed a quiz-like format; rather the elders gently reminded the
new family of the doctrines taught in the previous discussion. If the elders felt that their
investigators did not have a sufficient grasp on those principles, they would teach a
longer version of the same discussion.
The first discussion no longer started with a prayer. Although the intent was
good, too often it accentuated the differences between missionary and investigator. The
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Prez reasoned that an opening prayer was unnecessary because the missionaries should
have prayed that morning and thus should already be prepared for any discussions they
were to teach that day. Missionaries no longer compelled investigators to say the closing
prayer at the end of the first discussion, either. And then, too, the prayers were
simplified. “Help this family to learn the truth of what we have taught them,” was the
general gist of these new and improved missionary prayers.
To facilitate the increased number of discussions, the elders no longer gave away
a Book or Mormon at every discussion. Instead, they talked about the book reverently
without ever showing a copy in the first discussion. They would tell the investigators that
“maybe next time we will bring a copy for you to see.” Thus the book was treated as
something special from the first contact with the investigator, and the investigator
imitated that spirit of reverence. When they were finally gifted one, they treated the book
with reverence and respect and even read the assigned passages.
Most exciting was the emphasis on teaching entire families. During discussions,
questions and comments were directed to the head of the household. In the past, we had
been afraid to do this, since the men of the house would often take our discussions into
odd tangents and unnecessary digressions. The Prez helped the elders to develop their
faith, and with that faith came the ability to control each discussion. The elders would sit
close to the father of the family, and be ready to touch his knee, look him in the eye,
interrupt him, and steer his comments in a more productive direction. It was thrilling to
hear of these new innovations.
With reverent gravity, Elder Gillespie concluded the evening with his testimony.
His words burned themselves into our souls. Everyone present that evening knew
without a doubt that a man of God stood before us, and that his words were true. “I know
Christ lives,” said our former mission president with faith and power. And then quietly,
reverently, he added, “I know Christ.”
As we shuffled out of that meeting, filled with the witness of the Holy Spirit, I
thought back on how much my life had changed since I had accepted the call to serve in
the Mexico Tampico Mission. I had now crossed an important bridge in my life, a bridge
that would lead me towards eternal life and exaltation. Before me stretched the rest of
my life, ample time to apply the lessons I learned in the crossing of that Tampico Bridge.

Tuesday, May 26, 1998

Wow, what a long day. I spent a couple of hours in the morning with
Elder Stauffer, as he showed me around the area and briefly introduced me to
some members and investigators. At ten o’clock, we returned to the house, where
Elder Stauffer collected his luggage, and then we took a taxi to the offices. I
spoke with mission friends and swapped mission gossip as I waited for my new
companion to arrive from Huejutla. It felt like I spent half the day waiting for the
elders from Huejutla to arrive. They left late and didn’t get into Tampico until
1:00 p.m. During that time I took Elder Camaal to the doctor. He has chicken
pox (the elder, not the doctor).
Those of us who had once belonged to MTC District 60-B had begun our
missions on June 5, 1996. Thus, the president let us chose our release date—May
27 or June 24, 1998. Elders Callister, Fister, and Stauffer chose to go home in
May, the rest of our generation chose to go home in June.

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My new (and presumably last) comp is Elder Perez. After we got him
settled into our new pad, we went to work getting to know our new area. We met
a lot of members today and walked around a ton. This last area of mine was the
Tampico Ward of the Tampico Stake. I figured it was a good way to end my
mission in the Mexico Tampico Mission. The area included all the apartment
buildings in the downtown area, as well as several colonias that bordered it. In
the following weeks, my companion and I spent very little time in the older areas
of downtown Tampico; I had heard many stories from other missionaries about
pornographic magazines blowing around the streets, and I intended to avoid that
portion of the city completely.
One of my district leaders in Zona Tampico was my first trainee, Elder
Avila. I had been excited about living and serving with home once again, but it
wasn’t long before we reverted to our previous contentious positions. I’m having
flashbacks from Huejutla. It was no easy thing getting along with Elder Avila, I
know that I did it once. It just requires the right sense of humor. I knew that I
loved him like a brother, and I also knew that I treated him like a brother,
arguments and all.
That night, out from under the solicitous supervision of Elder Burch, I
stuck to my new health diet and I dined on fruits. I feel good. However, the
humidity and heat in Tampico provided incentive to quit my exercise regime
several days later.

Wednesday, May 27, 1998

By now, Chad Fister, Michael Stauffer, and Jared Callister are home with
their respective families. I guess I’m next. They fought the good fight, and I was
proud of all three of them. Although they had opted to go home a month earlier
than the rest of us, each of them finished on a strong note. Elder Stauffer, who
had recently been the zone leader in Tampico, left me with a cadre of new
converts and investigators with which to work. Elder Callister had been serving
as the branch president in Tanquián, and Elder Fister had lifted the Bosque Zone
to a level where it could compete with Victoria for position as the dominant zone
in the mission.
We had a pretty schweet day. I enjoy working in Tampico. It’s a ball.
We have so much cool stuff in our area. Besides the downtown area, we also had
the Laguna Carpintero, which was a large lake with parks and plazas and
landscaped walks. I also came to love the old apartment high-rises on the fringes
of downtown; I always felt like the buildings were about to collapse around me.
Even though I was upset with the mission president for taking me out of Victoria, I
remained positive and upbeat about my prospects in the Tampico Stake. I love
being a missionary.
Elder Perez seems to be pretty cool; he knows how to work. I expect to
learn a thing or two from him during this last month. His previous area had been
in the verdant hills of Huejutla and he was able to give me a quick update on the
members in that beloved branch. The most surprising news was the baptism of
Old Man Nieto. Victor was the husband of María Isabel and father to Virginia,

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and had, at one point, denied their requests to be baptized. It was wonderful news
to hear that he himself had taken that vital step. He was eighty-four years old and
his failing health kept him away from church meetings more often than not, but he
had accepted the gospel and continued faithful in the Church of Jesus Christ.
Elder Perez and I worked hard that day. We contacted a bunch, found a
lot of members, visited, and basically got our bearings. I think I’ve got the
directions down; it’ll be hard to lose me from here on out. As I had discovered
during my previous tour of duty in Barrio Independencia, the streets in the
Tampico-Madero area were neat, even, and orderly. Thus I was able to create
my mental map in only a matter of days.

Thursday, May 28, 1998

We got in another good day. I got myself homesick when I heard “I

Would Do Anything For Love,” a song by Meatloaf that had been one of my
favorites when I was in high school. For the most part, I’m more concentrated on
the work than at any other time in the last six months.
My new area is much like Madero, with straight streets, even numbering,
and regular cross streets. I’ve got the Centro (downtown), so even though I
avoided the central core I still found that it’s a lot of fun walking through the
neighborhoods on the periphery. I had spent so much of my mission in rural
pueblos, that being in the Big City was a thrill. I saw several micros that I knew
would take me to my old area in Madero.
Despite it’s lived-in nature, I loved my new home in Tampico. It had a
hot-water heater, which was a luxury that had often been denied me during the
previous two years. It was a second-story apartment, stacked on top of a street-
level house. We had a balcony that looked out over the street, and from it I could
watch the sun go down. The house was located at the foot of a bluff, and our
second-story apartment had ground-floor access because of the rise of the land.
Thus, the quickest way to get to my new area was to exit through the back door,
and walk up the stairs that had been built into the bluff for that very purpose.
From the top, we would wind our way through several residential streets, and
there cross over a busy arterial, which marked the western boundary of our area.

Friday, May 29, 1998

Today I went on a split with Elder Avila. I had a baptismal interview to

conduct that day, in an area of the zone I had not yet visited. Elder Avila
accompanied me to the interview so that he could serve as my guide to Mata
Redonda. This was also one of the areas that the President wanted me to
investigate and determine if it was safe for American elders. Elder Avila and I
had a great time remembering our Huejutla days. We laughed, we cried, we
argued. We even stopped at a phone booth and debated whether or not it was
against the rules to call the Ochoa family, who had returned to Guadalajara nine
months previous.

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Early in the day, we stopped at a Christian bookstore, and I found a book

containing an abridgement of the writings of Josephus. I’ve always wanted to
read his stuff, so I made a 10% down payment and put it on layaway. I’ll buy it
next week when I have money. My desire to read the book was only one reason
why I wanted to buy it. I also wanted my peers to see me with it, and thus
enhance my already scholastic reputation.
We crossed the river by boat (almost underneath the Tampico Bridge) and
went to Mata Redonda to do an interview. I liked the quiet neighborhood; it had
the feel of a small town, and yet was located only a short distance from the heart
of Tampico. We found the branch meetinghouse, which was a large tin-roof shed,
resembling the house in which the Huejutla branch had met before construction
had started on its own chapel. We spent a good portion of the afternoon there.
We returned to Tampico in the evening, where Elder Avila finished the evening by
interviewing some investigators I had inherited from Elder Stauffer.
At the end of the day, I could safely conclude that Elder Avila is still the
same old frito he was in Huejutla. Frito is missionary slang that can’t be
translated directly into English. We often used it to describe flaky investigators,
annoying members, or even as a term of endearment towards other missionaries.
During the previous month, Elder Avila had begun the training of Elder
Draney, who was still in the house when I arrived that May. Elder Draney was
my “grandson” and we swapped stories and legends about his “father” and my
“son.” It was not a common occurrence for a missionary to meet his grandson.
When I returned that evening, I could not stop thinking about my imminent
purchase of the writings of Josephus. I couldn’t’ get it out of my mind; I did not
want to wait another two weeks to buy the book. Instead, I entered into
negotiations with Elder Perez to sell him my camera for one hundred and fifty
pesos. I figured my mission was almost over, and I had never had much luck with
the camera anyways. I was not reluctant to part with it.
Thus a legend was born. A year later, while visiting with the elders over
lunch with the Monterubios, I was shocked to discover that they had heard of me,
“the elder who sold his camera to get money for a book.” The legend had even
expanded to include some patently untrue stories. One of the younger elders
asked me if it was true that I had an entire suitcase dedicated solely to the
transportation of my many books.

Saturday, May 30, 1998

I just broke the rules and called Elder Burch in Victoria. I had been so
lonely throughout the week, and so worried about the investigators I had left
behind in my previous area. I still had the phone number for the house in which I
had lived, so I called Elder Burch and talked with him for half an hour. This was
a sin that I would repeat several times during my last month of missionary
service. During the call, I learned that my replacement in Victoria was Elder
Hernandez, who had also replaced my in Matamoros a year earlier. He had been
able to baptize the investigators I had left him back then, so I knew he and Elder
Burch would be able to do the same in Victoria.

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I received other good news as well. Elder Clapper’s Miguel was baptized.
A week later, Elder Clapper went to visit his new convert, and was met at the door
by a wife in tears. They went to the back yard to find Miguel downing several
beers with his compadres, regaling them with his tales of his recent conversion.
He was celebrating his baptism by getting thoroughly, completely, and most
decidedly drunk. I almost felt bad that I had ever burdened Elder Clapper’s life
with that contact, but happy that my friend had baptized in the month of May.
Elder Burch also informed me that Juan and Jenny had been baptized that day as
well. Esther, the mother of two young women who were baptized six months
previous, will go in this week, and they’ve invited several others to be baptized.
I sure do miss Victoria. I didn’t want to come to Tampico. I don’t know
why I’m here; I’m feeling very apathetic about everything. I’m feeling rebellious
again. I want to go back to Victoria. The following weeks would vindicate the
President’s decision in sending me to Tampico, and I would eventually forgive
(and thank) him for sending me there.

Sunday, May 31, 1998

We passed a regular, normal Sabbath here in Tampico. But surprise

changes just came in again, and Elder Avila is now headed back to San Felipe to
be companion with Elder Ramos. I was so pleased that my two favorite
companions would themselves be companions. San Felipe was a small town an
hour to the west of Huejutla, and I envied Elder Avila that he was able to return
to the Huasteca. Elder Perez is also taking a hike. My last three weeks will be
with Elder Cortes, a former companion of both Burch and Roundy. I hope to
learn a ton from him. We’ll see. Elder Avila’s replacement was Elder Monroy,
who had been my first junior companion. I was almost as excited about working
with him again as I had been to work once more with my first hijo.
I had a meeting with the stake presidency tonight. Present at this meeting
was the leader of the Cuatemoc Zone, another zone which operated inside the
boundaries of the Tampico Stake. It was none other than my co-conspirator Elder
Jorgenson. I was happy to see him again, and quite impressed with the stake
presidency. They seem to be well organized. Having spent most of my mission in
the branches and districts of the Church, being able to work in a well-organized
and efficiently-run stake was an unexpected windfall.
The rest of the day we spent in an interview, a few contacts, a verification,
lunch (mole, yum!), and church services. We’ve got a great little ward down here
in Tampico. I’ll see what I can do with her.

Monday, June 1, 1998

We went out to Mata Redonda for our junta today. I really like making
that trip. It required us to take a route taxi to the river landing, pay a peso to ride
the boat across the Rio Panuco, and then take another route taxi to the church
meetinghouse. I was surprised to find my elders so enthusiastic and animated
about the missionary work. Much of that excitement came from the successes that

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the mission had achieved during the previous month, but some of that, I was later
informed, was due to my very presence in the zone. Many of the younger elders
were thrilled to be working under my supervision, to have the opportunity to learn
from me. I was surprised that my reputation had grown to that extent.
After the meetings, before we crossed back over to the north side of the
river, Elder Perez and I made a side trip. We walked to the top of the Tampico
Bridge. Since I had first arrived in Tampico, that unique structure had been a
mission icon. I can recall looking at the twin towering supports, rising over the
distant rooftops, as I sat silently next to Elder Lopez, waiting for the bus to take us
away to Soto la Marina. It had always been a presence in the city; whenever I
visited Tampico, I would look to its unique spires to orient me and give me
direction. To me, it had symbolized a bridge to exaltation, a bridge that all of us
would have to cross someday. It took me two years, but I finally visited the
bridge, stood atop it, and looked out over the vast expanse of the city and ocean.
I could see for miles around. I could see my former area in Madero. I could see
the entire expanse of the previous two years and understand the impact that
Tampico has had on my soul. It was an awe-inspiring moment.
On the way home, we crossed the river just as the sun was setting. The
bridge was on our right, an Italian love song wafting through the air, the feeling of
a mission well accomplished filled my heart. It was a moment of perfect peace, a
moment that has been firmly etched into my mind. I feel complete. I feel whole.
There are still things in which I need to improve but for now…peace.
In later years, I learned that the name of the song was “Per Amore” and
was sung by Andrea Botticelli. Even now, the song stirs something profound in
the depths of my being, and I can close my eyes and remember every detail of that
moment. It has become emblematic of the peace I found in the declining days of
my mission.

Tuesday, June 2, 1998

Crud. We lost half the day in the offices waiting for the Prez to get it
together. The surprise transfers were not as well orchestrated as regular
transfers. Add to that the fact that the Prez had scheduled interviews with my
zone, and we had organized chaos unleashed on the mission offices.
The other half of the day was spent on a division. I went out working with
Oscar, a new concert. As we walked through a commercial district of downtown
Tampico, we encountered Sandra Batres, a member from Barrio Independencia.
We chatted briefly, and I promised to return to her store when the time came for
me to buy souvenirs for my family.
My new comp is Elder Cortes from Chihuahua. I thought Burch would
was going to be my last companion, then I though Perez would be. I’m afraid to
make any sort of predictions now. There are a ton of new zone leaders in the
mission, most of whom I’ve never met. It makes an old dog like me feel pretty
old indeed.

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Wednesday, June 3, 1998

I’m feeling good about my area. We have a lot of potential. I feel better
about what I’ve got to work with now than any of my other areas. I know that
we’ll baptize a ton in June. We’ve got some stuff to work on still—a family
that’s hiding something, an old man, a worn-out middle-aged lady, and a musa or
two. Oddly enough, each and every one of the persons in this list was baptized in
the following three weeks.
The number of charlas that my companion and I were giving each week
had increased dramatically from what we had been teaching during my first year.
However, with this increase in charlas came a new and exciting challenge. While
other missionaries around the world are simply thankful to find people to teach,
in Tampico, we had so many people willing to talk to the missionaries that we had
to sift through our teaching pool and determine which investigators were
seriously preparing for baptism into the Lord’s Kingdom. Those who simply
wished to gab about God, we discarded. Those who followed through with their
commitments to read the scriptures, pray, and attend church meetings, we
continued to teach. It was obvious to Elder Cortes and I that the investigators
listed in this journal entry had an honest desire to follow Christ. While we had
other in our teaching pool, most of our time and attention was dedicated to these
six individuals.
For the first time since arriving here last week, I’m excited to be in
Tampico. I was feeling the usual nerves working with a new comp, but it’s
mostly passed and I feel that Cortes and I will work well together. We had both
graduated from the schools of Burch and Roundy. We had both learned valuable
lessons from those mission legends, but we were excited about bringing our own
unique style to bear on our area in Tampico.

Thursday, June 4, 1998

My companion is such a stud. I really enjoy working with him. We both

know how to laugh. At first glance, he seems awfully stern and serious. So
much, in fact, that he kind of made me nervous at first. He’s keeping me from
being trunky by working hard and always opening his mouth. Elder Cortes never
allowed me to even think about coasting through my last weeks in the mission
field. Any success I had in this last month, I owe to him for keeping me focused
and dedicated.
I really don’t feel different than I did two years ago. I don’t feel much
stronger spiritually. I know that I’ve grown, but it is sometimes difficult to see
that growth. I think I know in what direction I need to build from here in order to
arrive at my final destination.
I wrote very little about our actual proselyting efforts during my last two
weeks in the mission field. And truth be told, those last few weeks have become a
blur in my own memory. Elder Cortes and I set a relentless pace; we worked
hard to maintain the momentum that we had gained during the previous month’s
mission-wide sprint. One experience does stand out in my mind, though. Elder

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Cortes and I were knocking on doors, using the quick-entry introduction that
President Gillespie had taught us. “Hello. We’re from the Church. May we
come in?” One drunk individual left his home to yell and scream at us for
passing ourselves off as church representatives and attempting to enter his home
under a false pretense. We beat a hasty retreat and avoided that street for the
rest of the month.

Friday, June 5, 1998

Two years ago, I entered the Mission Training Center. I didn’t have a
whole lot of time to reflect on this major milestone; I was in a zone leader’s
concilio most of the day. Instead of being held in the mission offices, as was
customary, the president rented out a dining hall at a local posh hotel. The
assistants had set up three tables, arranged in a square with one side open. It
was in that dining hall that the Prez announced that the Mexico Tampico Mission
had achieved its goal. In the month of May, we baptized 200 converts. I was
proud to be a part of it.
The president also related how we had reached that final milestone. On
Sunday evening, after he had received reports from all of his zone leaders, he
realized that we had only 199 baptisms for the month. He knew that coming so
close to the goal, and failing, would demoralize the mission for months. He
started calling all of his zone leaders, asking them if they had any investigators
who were ready to be baptized on Monday. Elder Frank had an investigator who
had not been baptized during the week because the bishop had not yet met with
the investigator. President Gillespie authorized her baptism, and on Monday
night, the 200th baptism was preformed and confirmed.
During the council, I also learned that Zona Victoria had indeed baptized
thirty-one people in the month of May, thus breaking the record set by Elder
Roundy. However, that very same month, Elder Roundy’s zone in Matamoros
broke the record also, baptizing thirty-two people. Our success was sweet,
nonetheless.
Zona Victoria won the Decathlon that month, a competition similar to the
pentathlon, except with more criteria (ten instead of five) and we competed as a
zone (rather than as companionships). The traditional reward for a zone winning
the decathlon was a zone party, complete with popcorn and video rental. In
Victoria, Elder Burch and his new companion prepared for the party by renting
Phenomenon. However, just as they were about to start, Hermano Regalado
walked into the Institute building with a copy of Batman and Robin. The zone
watched the latter, but Elder Burch felt so cheated by that sub-standard movie,
that he stayed in the Institute building after everyone else had returned home and
watched the movie he had originally planned for the zone. Although I was unable
to celebrate with Zona Victoria, Elder Burch and I shared a triumphant embrace
at the concilio.
Most of the zone leader’s council proceeded as normal, with a training
segment from the AP’s and a spiritual message from the Prez. President Gillespie
had also prepared a small keepsake for each of the zone leaders, a special way of

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saying “thank you” for our hard work and dedication during the month of May. I
still have the seashell framed photo of the Tampico Bridge, and despite its
tackiness, I treasure it. At lunch time, we retired to the mission home, where
Sister Gillespie had prepared a fabulous feast for the zone leaders.
After lunch, we sat in the living room and had a quiet testimony meeting. I
felt such an outpouring of spirit and love today, something I haven’t felt since that
night in Mt. Zerkal in 1993. It was up in those mountains of northern Colorado
on a hiking trip with my teacher’s quorum that I felt the presence of the Savior
more strongly than at any other time in my life. The sixteen of us had been sitting
around a campfire, listening to Darren Jensen present a fireside lesson on the
unconditional love of Christ, when I looked out into the darkness of the
surrounding forest and knew that He was there with us that night. On the
afternoon of June 5th, I felt His presence again as I sat in President Gillespie’s
living room, surround by mission leaders who I had served with and loved for
many years.
As I looked at each face, I though of how much each individual had
contributed to the building of Zion in the Tampico Mission. I began to doubt
myself in that moment. I was not as obedient as Elder Shaw. I had never been as
hard-working as Elder Roundy. I did not possess the social skills that Elder
Burch had in abundance. In fact, I had brought very little to the table. And that
is when the Spirit spoke to me more clearly than it had ever spoken to me before
or since.
I did not have to be the best missionary that Elders Shaw or Roundy or
Burch could be. I had only to be the best missionary that Elder Barrett could be.
Each of us came from a different background which had prepared us to serve in
different ways. It didn’t matter that I had not come to the mission field as a son of
a stake president, as did Elder Harris. My upbringing had blessed me with
unique skills and talents that the Lord had used time and again in bringing lost
sheep back into the fold.
The spirit whispered to me that day, that just as I loved each and every
one of those zone leaders, so too did my Father in Heaven love me. He was proud
of me and of my accomplishments. He knew of my sacrifices, of my trials, and of
my triumphs. There was no shame in the service I had rendered; I had
accomplished all in Tampico that my Lord had set me forth to do.
I broke through many barriers today and am feeling more spiritually
charged than ever before. My life is good. I love our mission president. I love
being a missionary. There is no greater call.
The joy and energy that ran through the mission in those days was
unforgettable. We had broken the two-hundred-baptism barrier! We knew,
however, that it would only be a matter of time before that achievement was again
equaled, and someday surpassed. Six months later, the mission once again
baptized two hundred individuals in a single month. Six months after that, a year
after our first big victory, the Mexico Tampico Mission baptized three hundred
people in a single month. Those of us who had led the mission to that first
milestone rejoiced in the success of later generations, knowing that we had shown
others the path and laid down the foundation for the rising generation.

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Saturday, June 6, 1998

I get so mad at husbands. Tonight we got Maria de los Angeles on track

for a baptism tomorrow. But her husband is dragging his feet. He told us at the
beginning of the week that he had sooo much faith in Christ. He’s letting her get
baptized, but he’s being kind of sulky about it. His words said one thing, his
actions another. As we finished the last charlas with Angeles, her husband sat
outside and smoked, refusing to contribute to the conversation we were having
with his wife about the gospel of Jesus Christ.
I feel so sorry for Angeles. I can just imagine how her life has unfolded,
the shattered dreams, the tear-filled nights, the silent longings of a youthful heart
stifled by the grim reality that surrounds her. Why can’t people open their
freaking eyes and see the peace and joy that comes from righteous living? Can’t
they see the evil they are propagating by their selfish desires, their alcohol and
pornography, their debilitating pride?
“Oh ye fair ones, how could ye have fallen?”

Sunday, June 7, 1998

Roundy sure taught me how to jerry-rig a baptism. He taught me that

nothing should delay a baptism, that all problems were easily solved with a little
bit of ingenuity and elbow grease. Angeles went under, even if only three people
were at the service. We had fun pulling it together. When we arrived at the
chapel that morning, the font had been filled, the curtain opened, but no one had
unlocked the doors leading down into the font. I climbed over the glass divider,
jumped over the water-filled font, and unlocked the door from the other side.
In the one week that we’ve been together, Elder Cortes has become one of
my favoritest comps. He’s got a good sense of humor.
Two years still hasn’t taught me how to use my Sundays effectively.
While at the offices, I received eight puzzle books that I had sent away for while I
had been in Panuco. I spent much of my spare time with those diversions during
my final weeks in Tampico. I’m having a fun time with my new puzzle books.

Monday, June 8, 1998

A regular Preparation Day, with a regular junta de zona. My companion

sure does like to sleep, which is saying a lot, coming from a missionary who
scheduled naps into every Preparation Day. We did a lot of napping and then left
for the Centro, sent the fax, etc. and etc. We spent some time washing clothes and
so forth. The same sister who fed us our meals during the week also welcomed us
into her home on Mondays so that we could do our laundry. While the clothes
were being washed, my companion wrote letters home. I had long since stopped
writing to my family, so I sat in a beanbag chair on the upper story balcony and
read Spanish translations of Reader’s Digest.

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I can’t believe that I’ve only got two more P-Days left to me. And what’s
even more mind-numbing: today, for the last time, I withdrew my quincena from
my account at Bital. I’ll never get to do that again.
After the zone meeting, the evening was spent in chicken and shopping. A
member of our ward was the night manager of a local fast-food chicken
restaurant. Every P-Day, we would stop by his establishment and take advantage
of his generosity. He always gave us a full meal of fried chicken, side dishes, and
a soft drink.

Tuesday, June 9, 1998

We went to the offices today to drop stuff off and pick up letters. Elder
Jenson was there. He’s going to be a zone leader in Bosque. What a stud. I was
so proud of him. Although he had not been an official “hijo,” I had been his
second companion in Mexico, and felt that I had contributed something to his
training as a missionary. Elder Jenson finished his mission as an Assistant to the
President, working in tandem with Elder Fernandez, a sour-faced but dedicated
missionary that Elder Jenson and I had both known during our service in Panuco.
I also received a fax from my former Matamoros companion, Elder
Ramos. He had been living in the State of Mexico, and wanted to see me when I
passed through the Mexico City Airport on the way home. I needed to send a fax
back to him with my flight information and layover times. None of this
information is available to the elders until the day they leave, so I had to get the
info from Elder Taylor about my flight plans. He wouldn’t allow me to see the
actual flight plans, but made a note of what time my plane arrived and left Mexico
City, as well as the flight numbers, so that I could send the schedule on to Juan
Carlos Ramos. It made me trunky to know that I had flight plans, even if I did not
know exactly what they were. I did know, however, exactly where they were
kept—in Elder Taylor’s desk. I sure hope to see my old companion at the airport
in a couple of weeks.
Worked hard, taught good charlas.

Wednesday, June 10, 1998

A fairly well-done day. We taught a bunch of charlas—eight in all. Half

of those were second charlas. I’m into the great winding-up scene of my mission,
and I plan on finishing on the sprint.
Elder Burch and President Gillespie both say that I have a rare ability to
focus on multiple ideas at once. They said that it is an ability which very few men
possess, though women seem to have it in abundance. I’m not sure if that’s
insulting or not, but they probably mean the best by it.
A couple of companionships in my zone are having problems getting
along. We’ll have to do something about that. This was another challenge that I
take satisfaction in knowing I managed well. I worked with both Elders Hunt and
Cetina, counseling them and encouraging them. I even talked about my own
experiences with difficult companions. In the end, I must have done something

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right because the two of them were able to put their differences aside. They
learned to work effectively as a team, and during the month of June, the two of
them baptized nine people.

Thursday, June 11, 1998

What a day! We didn’t get a whole lot accomplished in the morning. In

the evening we did a division with a couple of members and were thus able to get
in a six-charla day.
The new AP’s (Earl and Harris) are now in the offices. I got a call from
Harris, who is my file leader. A year ago, he and I were together in the Huasteca.
He was a junior companion in Tamazunchale when I had been a senior
companion in Huejutla. He became a zone leader two weeks before me. The guy
is such a stud. Of Elders Felley and Tonks, the latter remained in the office to
help train the new assistants, while the former was returned to the field, to spend
his last remaining weeks testifying of the restored gospel.
I’m enjoying life, trying to stay focused on the work, sweating my taco
off, and basically having a ball.

Friday, June 12, 1998

I went on a division with Elder Draney all day, in his area. I crossed the
Laguna Chairel and did some proselyting in an area that smelled strongly of fish.
We taught a goodly number of charlas, and I coinducted some five interviews.
That was a lot of fun. I found some Oreo cookies and ate nearly the whole pack
of eighteen for supper. It was dreamy. Previous to this, the only cream-filled
chocolate cookie I had ever found in Mexico was a cheap Oreo imitation called
d’Oro. When I found these brand-name Oreos, I had to buy and devour the entire
package, which I did promptly and with great gusto.
While on the division, Elder Draney took me by a park that had a large
model of a lighthouse. We climbed to the top of it, only to find that it was stinky
and lacked a good view. I added my own contribution to the mess of graffiti that
covered the inside, a short epithet honoring MTC district 60-B.
While I was off gallivanting with Elder Draney, Elders Cortes and Monroy
were performing pre-baptismal interviews for a mother and daughter that we had
been teaching. My comp did a good job in holding down our area, but now we
have some investigators that need to talk to the Prez.
When we got home that evening, we spent some time on the phone. First,
we called the mission president, but he was too busy to take on the interviews.
Instead, he told us to talk to one of his counselor. We called him next, but he, too,
was rather busy, so he delegated the interview to the stake president. After
explaining the situation to the stake president, he also delegated the matter to one
of his counselors. Lucky for us, this counselor lived in our area. Thus, we were
able to get these interviews taken care of rather quickly, quietly, and
conveniently.

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Saturday, June 13, 1998

It was a long, hot, trying day. We started it with Manuela and Paloma’s
interviews. They did some repentin’ and should get baptized tomorrow. In fact,
every companionship in the zone ought to baptize this week. That would be icing
on the cake. We found some new families to teach and did a ton of walking.
Sometime during this week, while Elder Cortes and I were walking along
one of the streets in downtown Tampico, a beat-up old pick-up trick honked at us,
and then pulled alongside the curb. Out jumped Felix and Oswald, former
investigators from the Independencia Ward in Madero. We talked briefly, and
they congratulated me on the fact that I would be going home soon. When they
drove off, I refocused my mind, and Elder Cortes and I continued with our
proselyting work.
I’ve been thinking a lot about life. I want to be a disciple of Christ, and I
need to maintain a bunch of high standards when I go home. I don’t want to be a
dweeb. I want to set my goals high.

Sunday, June 14, 1998

We had us another baptism today, and like always, we ran into a few
snags. Manuela, and her daughter Paloma, showed up to the chapel without a
change of underwear nor a towel. No problem. At this point in my mission, I feel
like I’ve learned the ropes, and no problem is ever insurmountable. With a little
imagination, faith, tact, and elbow grease, any problem can be converted into a
memorable occasion. On this memorable occasion, we baptized both women in
nothing but regular baptismal clothing (no underwear underneath) and we used
the ward’s spare baptismal jumpsuits for towels.
We went on a division in the afternoon. My comp had a lot more success
than I did. Feeling lonely once again, I called Elder Burch in the evening. Poor
guy is having a ton of problems in Victoria. He goes home in a month, which is
almost as unbelievable as my week.
During one of these illicit calls to Victoria, I learned that Juan’s wife
(Jenny’s mother) had begun taking the discussions. She made it as far as the
fourth discussion, but was still uncommitted to baptism. Instead of trying to
cajole or coerce her, Elder Burch simply proceeded with the pre-baptismal
interview. He asked Elder Clapper, who preformed the interview, to provide her
with some inspiring words of wisdom that would help her to make a firm
commitment to baptism. As it turned out, she loved the Church. She loved the
changes that she had seen in Juan and Jenny’s life, and she loved the elders who
had taught them the gospel. She just wanted to be certain she was making the
right decision in being baptized. Elder Clapper worked some magic, shared some
scriptures, and testified that we receive confirmation of our faith only after we’ve
made the proverbial leap into the unknown.

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Monday, June 15, 1998

It was a nice P-Day. My next-to-last. The assistants came over to our

junta and really got us fired up. We had some excellent stats this week. As a
reward for their hard work during the week, I bought a pineapple pie for the
district tonight. The APs brought letters. My parents sent money and I got a
letter from Adrianne. I slept a lot in the morning, did my crossword puzzles.
We almost had to wash by hand today, because the lady at whose home we
normally washed our clothes was out of town. Instead of relenting and returning
to our home and washing by hand, Elder Cortes and I visited with a few members
hoping someone in the ward would offer us the use of a washing machine. Our
second visit was to the bishop’s house, where the bishop’s wife lent us a hand and
her washing machine.

Tuesday, June 16, 1998

Well, I’m into the great winding-up scene. It was un poco dficil to get
started today. I’ve decided not to be a burden upon my comp. I WILL work hard
this last week. We taught some charlas, and did some other stuff.
I’ve been thinking a lot about baptism—the covenant of salvation. This
covenant, which allows me to receive forgiveness of sins through repentance,
allows me to keep all my other covenants. Maybe I haven’t magnified my calling,
sacrificed, obeyed, consecrated as much as was required. But my baptismal
covenant permits me to receive a remission of these sins and try again tomorrow.
And all these covenants are based on the Atonement of Christ.

Wednesday, June 17, 1998

Today was my last zone conference. I saw a bunch of my old buddies.

And at the same time, I felt a lonely isolation from the rest of the mission; I did
not know most of the young elders who were present that day. But, I felt the
spirit. I found my answers. I am at peace. I can go home knowing I
accomplished in my own life that which was necessary for me to accomplish
during these two years.
The final hymn was “The Spirit of God.” As I listened to seventy voices
singing this hymn with power, I couldn’t help but think how this hymn started me
off on my current path. In August 1991, this was the opening hymn to the Youth
Conference that eventually led to my decision to be active in the church. And
now it is starting me off onto a longer, more important, more fulfilling journey.
Happiness is not my goal; it is my mode of travel.

Thursday, June 18, 1998

We had a better day today than yesterday. My companion is really

helping me to stay focused. We contacted “one last house” tonight, and while we
did find a new family, he was a crazy military dude. He kind of scared me; I

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thought he would go ballistic at any moment. But I was thankful to Elder Cortes
for insisting that, instead of returning home at nine o’clock that evening, we
contact the four or five doors remaining on the street we had been contacting.
Elder Cortes kept me focused during those final weeks, and I will forever be
grateful for his companionship.
I really feel good. I feel like I’ve attained a level of discipleship that will
serve me well as I enter again into the world. I know the direction I need to go. I
will do it. I can’t believe that I only have one more week in which I can, with
authority, testify that Christ lives and is the Messiah.

Friday, June 19, 1998

By far the best day I’ve had this week. I bought some gifts for my sister.
I hope she likes them. She didn’t. They were pirated copies of a young Mexican
singer named Fey, who, apparently, lacks appeal amongst the young urban
American teen demographic.
We got in a good day’s work. In the evening we had another Empty
Church Open House (ECOH) with a young couple we found last week. I had
shared with Elder Cortes this secret weapon that Elder Jenson and I had used to
bring the spirit powerfully into the lives of Ruben and Soledad. We decided to do
the same with this young couple, whom we thought showed similar potential.
They are up to charla three and marching steadily towards a baptismal date.
We found another baptism for this Sunday. We had been working with the
area book, looking for investigators who had broken off discussions with the
elders for one reason or another. One was Victor, an old man who had been
offended by the principle of tithing. We had been working with him for several
weeks, and finally received a commitment from him to be baptized this Sunday.
We also finished the charlas with Fineas and Veronica. Vero was the
daughter of a recent convert, but had been shying away from meeting with the
elders for many months. She wanted to be baptized, but thought that the elders
would be pushy and rude to her husband, who would respond with a stubborn
refusal. Through the course of several weeks, we were able to show Finny and
Vero that we were genuinely concerned with their welfare. They soon invited us
into their home, where we taught them the gospel, and they decided, of their own
free will and choice, to be baptized.
All three of these investigators had the pre-interview yesterday and should
be baptized Sunday morning. I’ll be a happy camper once that happens.

Saturday, June 20, 1998

And thus my mission winds to its close. For seven years, my life has been
centered on this experience. Ever since I started actively attending church
meetings, I had looked forward to my mission. For the past two years, I taught
the gospel of Christ with authority and power. In a matter of days, it’ll be over.
I’m happy that I’ll finish with some three baptisms—a complete family and a
varón mayor de eighteen años—two potential priesthood holders.

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The mission passed by so rapidly. I know I did a good job. I gave two
years of my life to bring souls to Christ. When I think of Roberto, Grizelda, Beto,
Ruben, Soledad, Teófila, Adelfo, and Erika, I know that my labors have borne
fruit. The Lord has accepted of my sacrifices; I hope He will bless me in the way
that I desired of him from the beginning. I want to know what to do with the rest
of my life.
That night, the APs called me to ask my advice for the transfers the
following day. They needed to call a new zone leader, and they had narrowed the
field of candidates to two elders. I had worked with both candidates in one
degree or another, and I recommended Elder Monroy, who I knew to be a solid
and excellent elder. Perhaps my choice was wrong, because the other candidate
eventually finished his mission as an Assistant to the President.

Sunday, June 21, 1998

I guess I’m on my way. My journal has come to an end. The APs have
called with the changes. My first junior comp, Elder Monroy, is now a zone
leader. I’m packing my bags. I feel good about what I’ve accomplished. I feel at
peace. I’m happy that I finished with a bang.
We baptized that old dog Victor, a seventy-four year old with a tattoo of
the Virgin of Guadalupe on his chest. We also baptized a complete family. As
had happened to us once in Victoria, Veronica’s young son broke into terrified
screaming when we immersed his mother under the water.
During the sacrament meeting, I glanced out into the hallway and was
surprised to see a familiar face. Esmerelda had heard from Felix and Oswaldo
that I was serving in Tampico, and she had come to visit me. The friendship we
had shared had been genuine, and although I was happy to see her again, I
desperately wanted to move on with my life and forget about her.
I whispered to my companion to come and retrieve me in five minutes,
then I removed myself from the sacrament meeting. I had once felt an attraction
for her, and did not want to place myself in a potentially compromising situation.
After we had chatted for five minutes, Elder Cortes invented an excuse and told
me that I was needed in the chapel. I excused myself from Esmerelda, who
wished me well, and then we parted ways. I feel peaceful because I know that
book is closed. I could go home without regrets or remorse. I had passed the test
and knew that I could look to the future with unfailing optimism.
That evening, as I spoke to the APs, I received another morsel of good
news. The First Presidency had unofficially announced plans for a temple in
Tampico. The official announcement came a month later, but it was still fabulous
news on which to end my mission. I could look to the Tampico temple, and know
that my labors in Mexico had been directly responsible, even if in a small way,
towards the dedication of that holy building.

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Monday, June 22, 1998

A great P-Day, especially considering that it was my last. Started it with

several naps, after which Elder Draney and I went on a shopping spree in the
Centro. I bought several gifts for my family, including a coffee mug for my father.
He had taken to buying coffee mugs from every place he visited, so I though the
gift appropriate. As the vendor began wrapping the gift in a newspaper, he
realized that the spread he had been rolling it in contained some pornographic
pictures. He hastily switched that newspaper wrap for one more appropriate. I
also bought a decorative mortar and pestle for my mother, which she still displays
prominently in her home. I bought gifts for my entire family, but could not find
something that would interest my oldest brother, Ryan. In the end, I gave him the
snake T-shirt that I had bought in Madero the previous year.
I came home, took another nap, did a logic problem, and went across the
river to Pueblo Viejo. That was another little colonia located across the river
from Tampico. This journey, however, did not require us to pass under the
Puente Tampico. It was a peaceful, sunset journey, and I felt tranquil and happy.
I guess that’s it. I’m outie. It was a great ride. I’d love to do it again, but
with the knowledge and experience that I’ve since gained. I guess the Lord has
other plans for me instead. I’m at the threshold of my life. Never before have I
felt such hope and optimism about my future. Never before have I felt so close to
my Lord and Savior.

Tuesday, June 23, 1998

We went to the offices in the morning, where I saw a bunch of my old

buddies. I said farewell to my closest friends. When the excitement of transfers
had finally died down, we went to the mission home. Returning home with me
that day were Elders Felley, Tonks, Watkins, Taylor, Brockner, and Navarro.
We ate a lunch prepared by Hermana Gillespie. A month earlier, Elder
Tonks had mentioned a yearning for Ruben sandwiches, so the mission
president’s wife stored the comment away as useful information. Lunch that day
was, of course, Ruben sandwiches. When the meal was finished, the assistants
took half of those who were going home and took them on a freewheeling tour of
Tampico. Those of us who stayed behind waited patiently for our exit interview
with President Gillespie.
My turn to be interviewed finally came, and I entered the mission
president’s office. We talked for a few minutes, and he asked me some questions.
He then issued me a temple recommend, my first in two years. As we knelt down
to pray, I placed a single knee on the floor and bowed my head. I felt a touch on
my knee and the president asked me to kneel with both knees on the floor. The
savior, he said, had always prayed “earnestly” and we should seek to do the
same.
After the prayer, I asked the question I had been dying to ask for the last
year. What does the “H” in H. Aldridge Gillespie stand for? The president told

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me, and I nodded my head, understanding the reason why he used his middle
name instead.
The assistants returned with the other elders, whose turn for an interview
had come. Those of us who had already been interviewed piled into the APs’ van
and prepared ourselves for our own tour of Tampico. Our first stop was to the
beach. The assistants told us that the previous group of elders had asked a
scantily clad sunbather to have her picture taken with them. Elder Harris drove
the van onto the beach, careful not to get stuck as he had the previous month. We
all waded in the surf, but Elder Navarro, who had never seen the ocean before,
walked out into the water, wetting himself up to his waist.
From the beach, we drove to the end of the pier. We climbed on rocks, felt
the ocean spray, and off in the distance, we saw dolphins frolicking in the Gulf of
Mexico. I requested a trip to the Laguna Carpintero. Although I had served my
entire last month in the area, I had never walked the park at leisure. There was a
bridge that crossed the laguna, and I had always wished to cross it. We arrived
at the laguna, crossed the Laguna Carpintero, and strolled through the beautifully
landscaped parks and plazas.
The assistants took us back to the mission home, and we sat down to
dinner. I was shocked and surprised when Sister Gillespie brought out the main
course—beef Wellington. She had remembered my smart-aleck comment, from
the first time we had met. As she had served me a hot dog in the kitchen of the
Tempoal chapel, I looked at the food on my plate, and quietly informed her that I
had ordered the beef Wellington. And now, as she served me the beef Wellington,
I looked at the fabulous meal, and with an impish smile on my face, I quietly
informed her that I had ordered a hot dog. She laughed, fully understanding my
irreverent sense of humor. Sister Gillespie later told me that ours was the most
expensive farewell dinner she had ever prepared. I feel humbled and grateful to
that marvelous woman.
After Dinner, President Gillespie gave us his final advice. I once more
claimed the armchair in the corner, as I listened to the mission president talk
about the importance of marriage. He did not encourage us to be married by a
certain date, only stating that we should not avoid serious relationships in the
next two years. He also gave us some wonderful advice on choosing a spouse.
Physical beauty may fade with old age, so do not make that the deciding factor.
Yes, there should be attraction and beauty and love, but there should also be a
mutual devotion to the gospel.
His advice that night covered more than just the realm of matrimony. He
also asked us to reflect on the growth we had experienced in the previous two
years. He gave us each two sheets of paper. On one, we were to write the skills
and abilities that we had gained while serving a mission, skills that would
someday be valuable to a prospective employer. On the other, we were to write
down our goals for the following few years. Years later, I still possess and
treasure these sheets of paper.
The mission president also asked us to choose a scripture, one that could
serve as a guiding star throughout our entire lives. President Gillespie had
chosen as a young man the scripture from Matthew 6:33: “Seek ye first the

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kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these will be added unto you.” He
had it cross-stitched and framed and hanging on the wall of his home. I chose
Doctrine and Covenants, section 93, verse 1: “Verily thus saith the Lord: It shall
come to pass that every soul who forsaketh his sins and cometh unto me, and
calleth on my name and obeyeth my voice and keepeth my commandments, shall
see my face and know that I am.”
The day had been full, and at the conclusion of the president’s message,
we filed off to bed. I opted to sleep in the offices rather than in the assistant’s
house, because the offices have air conditioning. I fly through Mexico City and
Dallas on my way home. Elder Ramos should be waiting for me in Mexico. I
love this country, this people. I shall forever miss them.
Two years previous, I had slept my first night in those same mission
offices. Scared, bewildered, unsure of what the future would hold for me, I went
to bed on that long ago night with a headache. On this night, though, it was my
heart that was hurting as I lay me head down to sleep.
I did find some comfort in knowing that I had finished my mission strong,
baptizing six people in my last month of missionary service. Two weeks later,
after I had returned home, I received a phone call from President Gillespie. He
wanted to personally congratulate me for the strong finish I had put into my
mission. My efforts had helped Elder Cortes and I to win the mission pentathlon
for the month of June. We had also lead our zone to victory in the decathlon. The
president told me that we had caught the rest of the mission sleeping: they had
been so complacent about reaching the big milestone the previous month that the
work had suffered in June.
While my Zona Tampico had baptized twenty-three people in the month of
June (an average of 4.6 baptisms per companionship), the next closest zone had
only baptized fourteen (an average of 1.8 baptisms per companionship). In
addition, Elder Cortes and I averaged 24.5 charlas per week, 14.5 new families
per week, 5.5 families in the teaching pool each week, and 64.3 hours of
proselyting each week.
President Gillespie thanked me for being an example to the rest of the
mission. I was incredibly happy to know that my last month had been such a
powerful one. But, once again, I was unable to attend the zone party that was our
reward for winning the Gran Decatlon

Wednesday, June 24, 1998

I don’t remember much about the day I left Tampico. I did not record
anything that day other than my testimony. I remember an early flight out of
Tampico, and the heavy heart that filled my breast as the plane lifted into the air.
Previous to that, president Gillespie had hugged us each a fond farewell, wiping
his eyes, and complaining that he was losing his best leaders.
To our surprise, we also found Elodia and Susana waiting for us at the
Tampico airport. Both Elder Brockner and I had served in Huejutla, and had
loved the land and the people. Elodia and her daughter left their home at four in
the morning in order to be in Tampico in time to see us off and wish us well. It

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was a joy to see them once again, and it reminded me once more of all that I was
leaving behind.
The flight to Mexico City was short, and when we landed we found two
former Elders waiting to greet us. One of them was my former companion, Juan
Carlos Ramos. The other was Elder Ortiz, a former office elder . With them was
Judith, a member from Matamoros who was now living in Mexico City. The
Church Travel Department had allowed for us to have a sufficiently long layover
to be able to visit the Mexico City Temple before flying north to the United States.
With three native Mexicans as guides, we were unafraid to risk the notoriously
dangerous taxis of Mexico City.
It was the first (and only) time I have ever attended the temple in a foreign
language. All of the temple workers loved us and took very good care of us. I felt
the spirit flutter through my soul and burn in my heart, as I stood with members of
my MTC district in the celestial room and as I stood side by side with one of my
favorite companions in that most holy room.
After visiting the temple, we took a quick tour of the visitor’s center, and
the nearby distribution center. I bought a CTR ring, though being in Spanish, it
was more correctly called an HLJ ring. We bid farewell to Judith at that time;
she had other appointments to keep. Several years later, I received an e-mail
from Magda Olvera, informing me that Judith had died of cancer. In fact, the
reason she was in Mexico City that June was to gain access to the advanced
medical community there. Judith never said anything that whole day to indicate
to us that she was suffering silently through a terrible illness. She never saw her
thirtieth birthday.
After bidding farewell to Judith, Elder Ramos accompanied us back to the
airport, where he waited with us until we boarded the plane for Dallas. Once on
the airplane, the flight was delayed for nearly an hour. A crack had been
discovered in the plastic seal coating around the pressurized doors. We sat
impatiently in our seats as crew members fixed the minor problem. In due time,
the plane lifted off, and we were returning once more homeward bound.
The plane touched down in Dallas with only fifteen minutes to make my
connecting flight to Denver. I rushed through customs and immigration as fast as
the bureaucracy would allow, and ran through the airport at top speed. I barely
missed my connecting flight, and sat down to catch my breath. I checked in with
the desk attendant, and reserved a seat on the next Denver-bound flight. I called
my parents, letting them know of the delay, and of my new arrival time. It was
good to hear their voices, and I was anxious to see them all once again.
Elder Taylor, too, was flying to Denver, but he would continue on to the
tiny airport in Cortez, Colorado. I sat down with him in a nearby restaurant. We
were joined by Elder Watkins. The three of us talked, laughed, and reminisced
about old times. Elder Watkins left us to make his own connecting flight, and
Elder Taylor and I were on our own. The flight to Denver was long, although my
memory of it is probably faulty. I was going home, and any flight, no matter how
speedy, would have seemed too long for me at that point. The plane landed in
Denver, and I collected my carry-on luggage, nervous and excited about seeing
my family for the first time in two years.

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I immediately spotted my parents in the crowd. My mother flew into my

arms, weeping for joy. I recognized my eldest brothers, through Grant had grown
a mustache. I even recognized Blake. Kelli, who had been a twelve-year-old girl
when I left, was now a fourteen-year-old young woman, and I did a double take
before I realized who she was. Evan, too, had changed considerably during my
time in Mexico.
We piled into separate cars, and drove away from Denver International
Airport. Our first stop was the stake center, where I met with my stake president,
a different man than the one who had set me apart as a missionary. He shook my
hand, and with a few simple words, released me from my calling as a missionary
of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. At home that evening, as the
family gathered and friends congratulated me, I reflected on the experiences of
the last two years, and wondered what the future had in store for me.
I reflect, even now, on what could be the truest measure of success in a
missionary’s life. Some have asked, in these intervening years, how many people
I baptized in Mexico. I never kept track, because I never knew who to include in
such a count. I was not physically present for the baptisms of Chela, of Miguel
and Dora, of Ruben and Soledad, nor of Juan and Jenny. And yet I taught them
the gospel, touched their lives, loved them. Nevertheless, I converted none of
them. The spirit converts, and the missionary simply invites.
Perhaps the truest measure of my success as a missionary can be seen in
the number of lives I touched. But even that measure is hard to define. I have
learned in the years since my return from Mexico that no elder can know the
fullest influences he may have on a people. I went back to Mexico a year later,
and discovered some of the impacts that I might otherwise never have known.
Perhaps, since that time, my service continues to impact some people; lives that I
will never know have been changed because I chose to sacrifice two years of my
life serving the people of Mexico.
On the evening of my release, my stake president suggested that I write my
testimony that very night, before the buzz of being a missionary had worn off.
After the house had calmed, after the guests had gone home and my parents had
retired to their beds, I wrote the following words, concluding my missionary
journal with my unshakeable testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ. I leave them
here as the conclusion to these missionary memoirs.
And thus has my mission ended. I have completed that which the Lord
had sent me forth to do. I feel a great calm and peace. My temple covenants are
the focus of my life, and the Atonement which made it all possible. I am so very
grateful for the opportunity that was mine to preach the gospel of life and
salvation. I plan to close the book on this chapter, and follow adelante in the
camino en lo cual me he puesto. I know God lives. I know His Son is my
Redeemer. Joseph Smith was a prophet of the Most High. There are no doubts. I
feel it so strongly that I know that nothing less than the Spirit of God tells me
these things.
And thus, I leave my testimony. It is all true, all so very true. In the name
of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ,
AMEN.

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 PUENTE TAMPICO

The Barrett family welcomes Elder Barrett home

Denver International Airport

Early construction of the Tampico Temple

Taken one year after the temple was first announced

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