The photo above is of Mike Garner preaching at the Chruch on Hansen St. in 2006. The original church had suffered a fire but was rebuilt.
The Church on Hansen St.
When Trinidad (she preferred her given name as she got older) recalled those evenings at the little church on Hansen streets she says, “I don’t know why, I was just itching all over and knew I needed to go down to the front and accept Jesus. I used to be Catholic, but they never taught me about Jesus. I needed Jesus to help me because my life was like living a nightmare.” She says, “I really didn’t pay any attention to Mike because I needed Jesus. When Mike told me he loved me, I didn’t know what love was but he taught me.”
I remember when I first walked the streets of Olongapo, alone and at night. I felt a terrible presence of evil, and while thinking of how I would lead people to Christ, this presence seemed to say in my thoughts, “Not here, this is my place, you can do nothing here.” I responded in my thoughts, “We will see about that.” How could I stand against a system that was condoned by both the U.S. and Philippine governments? How could a voiceless Marine Corp Corporal make a difference? In the end I stole from Olongapo a life that had been claimed and a soul that was lost. Throughout the years I would pray for the collapse of the system that kept Olongapo alive. I was blessed to return multiple times in the early 2000’s leading STM trips for bible college students. We were able to bless and help some of the girls. The work of my friend Shay Cullen of the PREDA Foundation was inspirational to me. He is an admirable servant of God, an exemplar of faith, a man who walked into the darkness without fear and brought light. The PREDA Foundation is a major NGO that resisted the trafficking of women and continues to rescue children from the streets. I was blessed to have Shay write a cover recommend for my book, Theopoetics.
It seems I had been influential in bringing someone to Christ after all. Only problem was that I was in love with her, and she was one of the bar girls out of a club! Our evenings at the pizza parlor had led to walks and meetings during the day. Trinidad had quit her job in the club the night after she came to Christ, this decision left her with no income. A few goons came from the bar to take her to work and learned I was supporting her. Later, they returned again and said I would have to pay for her to be able to quit her job. I told them I didn’t have any tolerance for their thinking they owned another human being and to get out of my face. It was a tense moment, I made them understand that I was not fearful of them or their threats. There was three of them and in God’s grace they decided it was best to leave me alone. I must confess I was prepared to act violently.
Trinidad had long beautiful streaming black hair that went down past her waist. However, she had only half a comb with half of the teeth missing. When she smiled, she had perfect teeth, but only her front teeth, for her mouth was filled with cavities. She loved people and loved to laugh and talk, she was full of compassion for others despite her own need (she did not change over the years). Her idea of a refrigerator was a wooden shelf with a curtain in front of it where she kept a bowl of old rice to eat. All her possessions could be placed into a small suitcase, and all of it an American would have thrown away.
All naivety about the benevolent goodness of humanity existing within structures of legitimized violence was lost in a moment as I walked the streets of Olongapo. The systemic abuse of young women to relieve the sexual appetite of young and old soldiers was not representative of my concept of American virtue. The harsh contrast of wealth and poverty was an intolerable injustice.
After three sleepless nights of wrestling with both myself and the silence of God, I chose to marry Nympha, for God was only silent because I already knew what I was to do. Once I made this decision God’s silence ended and my faith brought God into the world. Later in life I would learn the book of Hosea and learn that my experience was similar to Hosea’s.
During this time I was running from our barracks to Nympha’s boarding house each day after work. The bus came by our barracks every couple of hours but in my concern for her safety waiting for the bus was not an option. I was suffering dysentery and had become very thin yet still fit and muscular from running and working each day. During work I was walking in the hangar and braced my stance to remain upright because I momentarily experienced a blackout. I did go to the hospital and was given some medicine. While roaming the halls of the hospital I ran upon a wing where men were suffering from tropical illnesses and other diseases.
After work we rode up a hill from the airfield hangars to the barracks in the back of a grey colored military pick up. There was eight of us in the back of the truck. One was a sergeant (named Everett) who had been in the marines for ten years. He was bragging about having sex with, in his words, “A beautiful transvestite with a breast job”. I really didn’t like him at all. The guys told him I was marrying a girl I met out in town. He said, “You’re going to marry one of these ‘flips’”. This angered me so I reared my right arm back intending to punch him in the face but hit the tailgate so hard with the back of my arm that it opened and two of us fell out and rolled onto the asphalt. Sgt. Everett was the first one out of the truck to help me up. I think he knew he offended me and needed to calm me down.
When I made it to Nympha’s room I had to lie down on the bed, she put a fan on me and bought me some gin to help with my suffering. I was feverish and sweating. If my superiors knew I was this sick it would interfere with my effort to marry Nympha and bring her to the U.S. Feeling a lot of stomach discomfort I got up to use the common toilet that served several of the rooms. I was wearing a t-shirt and Levis. My pants filled with diarrhea before I got to the door. Inside was a bucket and faucet for showering so I cleaned myself up but was too sick to bother with my pants. I called Nympha over and cracked the door to show her what had happened. She got me a towel and I went back to bed until morning when I had to get up for work at 4:00 am. Later, Nympha told me she paid an old clothes washing lady to take care of my pants.
Initially I had to obtain approval from the U.S. military to marry Nympha, which was normally a six-month process. After a bold walk into the base commander’s office, (curiously no one stopped me as I walked past Marines in their dress blues). I received permission three days later in the form of a letter delivered to my squadron’s offices. Surely, God was with me in all my youthful acts of determination and faith. The marriage approval process normally took six months. After our wedding I began the visa paperwork. I was told the process to obtain a visa normally took over a year. This was unacceptable for me and so with my raw faith I moved forward.
