Rex wrote the Rest of the Story: Nakawakawa

After the meeting, Pita asked if I would drive him home and bring back some food his wife and mother-in-law had made. He said it would only take ten minutes to warm up. Elder Harward came along to help, and Pita’s family all jumped in the truck. While the women cooked, Pita showed us the river behind his home. We stood on the edge of his back yard looking over a fifteen-foot cliff at a beautiful clear pond lined with big rocks. One day Pita’s little daughter had fallen off that cliff. They were afraid she had hit the big rocks right below, but somehow she had landed about five feet out into the pond where the water is three feet deep. They got her out, and she was fine. Now she stays right away from the edge.

     The river continues on with rapids, about double the size of Cub River, and flows into another pond they use for baptisms. We stood at the edge of that pond, and Pita’s daughter picked up little rocks and threw them into the water. I grabbed a big rock about the size of a shot put and hurled it in to watch the splash. It was impressive! The streambed is filled with rocks. A company wants to come and haul them all away for $4 a yard to use for road repair. I said, “Don’t let them destroy your river.”

     Elder Harward gave Pita some advice for his new calling as Branch President, “My own son was just made a bishop and asked me for advice on how to handle the load. I told him, ‘Read the handbook and find all the things that only you can do. Do them and delegate everything else to your counselors. Put God and family first, calling second, and occupation third.’”

     After the ladies finished cooking the food, and we got it into the truck, President Harward looked back at the little house in paradise. He said, “This is like a micro glimpse of Heaven -- a worthy priesthood holder; a loving, virtuous wife; a beautiful child; and a peaceful place to live.”

     We had an enjoyable meal and lots of fun and visiting. We are grateful and privileged to have been part of this glorious day in Nakawakawa. After pictures and farewells, I led the branch in three shouts for Nakawakawa. It was a grand tribute!

     Before the ride home, we divided to ride in the three trucks. The men in the mission and district leaders were in the lead truck to hold a presidency meeting; the women and I were in the middle truck; and the AP’s and the Nakawakawa Elders were in the last truck.  As we left at 3:30 PM, the saints lined the hill by the chapel and waved goodbye. We felt like VIPs in a parade. The plan was to drive the two hours on the graveled road to the junction and then redistribute passengers to get them back where they needed to go. As we drove, I held back a little from the dust of the lead truck. The elders, however, stayed right on my tail, eating all of my dust, making it easy for us to see they were there, but probably hard for them to see. In places, the tiny, loose gravel made the road like driving on marbles, a lot like slushing through the snow at home. The truck fishtailed as it hit some bumps, but nothing that letting up a little on the gas and a careful steering adjustment would not correct.

     I got a little too close to the lead truck as they slowed down near one narrow bridge and turn. Sister Layton acknowledged to herself that would be an easy place to go off into the stream. I was lost in their dust like a heavy fog, but I made all the right choices and kept the truck on the road. I backed off again to see better. We were laughing and talking, looking at all the side roads and feeling grateful we had a guide to show us where to go.

     A couple miles farther, I looked in the mirror, but there were no elders on my tail. I slowed down and then stopped. Where were the elders? Sister Layton was concerned for her boys. We tried to call President Layton to tell him the Elders were not behind us. The phone rang but no answer. Right then, my Iphone died, and there were no other phones in the truck.

     Sister Layton said, “Let’s go back.”

     Betty said, “Don’t you think we’d better go on to the junction first and let the President know what’s going on and then go back together.”

     Sister Layton tried to comfort herself, “They’re probably just making a pit stop.”

     We drove ahead. About a half hour later, we saw the Harward truck coming toward us. The President stopped and told us the elders had been in an accident. He didn’t say if anyone was hurt before they drove off. We followed them. As we drove, we hoped the elders were on the main road and had not taken a side road. The sun was getting low, and we were not seeing them. We passed the scary bridge Sister Layton had noted, but they were not there. A mile or so farther, at about dusk, we saw four elders standing in the middle of road. It felt to me that there were others with them, but I could not see the others.

     We looked for the truck; but we could not see it until we stopped and looked down a steep bank, there hidden in the brush was the bent and broken truck. The marks on the road told the story. The truck had almost gone off a thirty foot drop into the stream on one side. The elder had overcorrected, and the truck spun around backwards, went off the road on the other side, hit the brush, rolled at least once, and came to rest down a steep drop about 30 yards from the road. Only the top of the cab was showing, and its color blended well with the foliage. The truck was totaled. How could anyone have walked away from that? They had followed the rules and were all wearing seatbelts.

     We hadn’t been able to get through on our phone to President Layton. If they hadn’t been able to call, and if they had been injured and not able to get out of the truck, it would have been dark, and we would have never found them until at least morning. That was the scenario that kept playing in President Layton’s head.

     Sister Layton had us get our first aid kit out and ready, but there was only a small cut on a finger, and it had already stopped bleeding. We just kept shaking our heads. We knew they had been protected. As I looked at the scene, it was deja vu. My companion and I had done the same thing on my mission back in 1972.

     After we saw everyone was okay, my first suggestion was that we say a prayer of thanks. In President Layton’s prayer, he thanked a loving Heavenly Father for his protection and asked that we make correct decisions. Even though I really wanted to show my farm boy prowess and pull the truck out with the new tow rope I had just made and brought with me, I knew that would put our truck in jeopardy. It was almost dark; the truck was too far away from the road and down too steep of a drop; and even if we got it out, the truck was not drivable.

We had the Elders gather everything out of the wrecked truck; the President took pictures and made the wise decision to monitor the exact distance from the turnoff so the tow company could find the camouflaged truck. I suggested all the Elders go to Savusavu and come the next day by bus to Labasa for training. We put two elders in the back of Harward’s truck, and they took off.

     President Petero volunteered to ride in the back of our truck with the now twenty-five sideways-facing chairs. It was not a comfortable ride, but he insisted. He just put on his hoodie and held on to my new rope I had used to tie the chairs in. At least it was good for something. I had to drive really slowly on the terribly bumpy roads so I wouldn’t throw him off. At times we would stop and try to trade, but he declined. It took two hours to get to the main road and about an hour more to Seaqaqa where we unloaded their chapel’s chairs and let President and Sister Petero out near their home. Then it was only forty-five minutes to the North Pole to get the Layton’s to their hotel. We got home just before midnight. It had been a day. It felt like two. The next day President Layton had the unpleasant job of calling the parents and Stake Presidents of the four missionaries. One of the elders had just been in Fiji a little over a week. His mother was a little freaked, but President Layton was glad to say they were all safe.