April 1, 2004

How are you all? I hope that Chelsea and Jason can forward this on to everyone. I have tried to find Uncle Paul's email but for some reason I don't have it listed. Today is Sunday and it is another hot day in Al Ramadi. I am writing from one of the pleasure palaces of a broken tyrant. Everything is fine here. I work hard all day long and try to keep myself apart from much of what I see. I relate limited details to all of you because memories of violence cannot always be told in bits and pieces suitable for pleasant conversation. More often it is like a flood and once I start I feel I cannot stop. I miss everyone. I talk to Georgia and Ryan a lot. I have seen Jason, Chelsea, Marci, Caleb, and Jarom on the internet.

We are relatively safe here behind our walls. I go out on patrols sometimes and act as an interpreter or I translate at the gate. I am learning a lot about the Iraqi people and Arabic. The danger outside of the gate is small arms fire where inside it is mortars and RPGs. I tell you that I would rather face rifle fire any day over mortar fire. The enemy is often so close that we can hear the mortars rattling out of their tubes on their way to our location. When you hear that and you are caught in the open you know that you have only 2 to 3 seconds before it hits. One has no idea where it will come down. It is sheer terror to live through. But don't count me as a coward as I am not afraid of this enemy. They are cowards to attack from shadow and kill indiscriminately.

This morning I went to the small bungalow that is the chapel. We have 10:00 services and the Catholics and Protestants have it in the afternoon. I prepared the sacrament and set out the chairs as I was the first one to arrive. I waited but nobody came. Usually there are 5 or 6 of us that meet but the others must have had duty today.

Just when I was about to give up and leave, a Lt. Col. from the Army walked in and said that he had just arrived five minutes previous. He had only twenty minutes before he would leave again and wondered if there was a chance he could partake of the sacrament. As he was right on time and the only other person in the room I invited him in and we, perfect strangers but brothers in the priesthood, knelt and blessed and ate of the sacrament.

He then left and I sat there for awhile and read the scriptures some. I started to sing How Firm a Foundation and as I was singing the Spirit overwhelmed me. I felt distinctly that I was not alone in that room. That the dead were with me and worshiping alongside of me. I saw nothing but felt an overwhelming presence of my grandparents Blacker and my Grandpa Waite. I have felt it once before when I was alone in Jerusalem. This was a strong and overwhelming sense, a perfect knowledge of the fact that came to my mind.

My tears flowed freely and after I finished singing I rose up and sought them out with open arms as if I could actually touch them. I felt nothing physically but the feelings in my heart and mind were unmistakable. They have watched over me as I know it is their duty. They have not lost their callings as our guardians only because death has separated them from us. They continue to fulfill their roles as our grandparents. I love the Lord for letting me feel that. For strengthening a very weak person in a moment of loneliness.

I love you all. I hope to see you soon. I can't wait to hear what Mom and Dad saw in England. Goodbye.