Standing Tall

Teeming Zacamil has but one traffic light.

From this one light, the observer has a view of apartment buildings as far as the eye can see. Some one hundred thousand people make their homes in and around Zacamil. Two-room units, combined to form housing complexes with the names Ayuda Mutua, El Hoyo and El Magisterial, house these masses.

From the early-1980's, it was rumored that the heart of the subversive movement was centered in Zacamil; that the revolutionary movement drew its life from the residents of these beehive-like dwellings.

Looking northwest from the traffic light, the towering, lush sides of the inactive volcano bearing the name San Salvador reaches high and dizzying heights. To the northeast, another volcano dots the horizon some 15 miles from the city of San Salvador. This is Guazapa. It too is considered a subversive stronghold. As such, it is the target of incessant rocketing and bombing from the Salvadoran army.

Standing at this light, I felt the earth tremble, as bomb after bomb pounded Guazapa at 60 second intervals.

February in El Salvador is a time of red roses and bright, tropical flowers. Women sit in front of great weaved baskets, tugging at passersby with hopes of selling tomatoes; shirtless teenagers haul their weight in charcoal and wood to fuel fires for cooking.

On a warm February day in 1986, Hennessey, Halbert and I were installed as pastors in Zacamil.

"The Lord is with you," shouted Archbishop Rivera y Damas to conclude the stream-lined installation ceremony.

THUMP...A rocket slammed distant earth on the Guazapa Volcano. "And also with you," responded the congregation.

 THUMP...THUMP. The ground shuttered and vibrated as more bombs exploded.

"Let us go in peace to love and serve the Lord" concluded the prematurely aged prelate.

THUMP.

"Thanks be to God," the people responded with one voice.

The bishop shook a few hands and left quickly. He returned to his room at the well-fortified Arzobispado. Gun-toting guards made sure he was safe behind the high wrought-iron gates.

People emptied the church as the sun set. I prepared to close the church building after all the festivities. It was then that I saw the straggler, sitting alone in the empty church.