I was a prison guard in the Marine Corps. I was stationed in Okinawa, Japan, at a joint services prison. We took in major and minor crimes of those enlisted in all four military branches. I had a 13-month stint in Okinawa that began in July 1974 and ended in early September 1975. Most of my fellow correction officers hated “The Rock,” as we called it, and could not wait to leave. I was no exception. I missed my friends and family and could not wait to get back. The favorite phrase of a person about to leave was “I’m getting short,” meaning that his time on the Rock was ending. We often rotated positions in the prison between the prison dorm and the segregated portion of the prison population. We also rotated shifts. There was not much to do during the swing shift ( 4-12) and the night shift (12-8). It was boring, but also a good opportunity to read.
In the late spring of 1975, I was looking for something to read in the prison library. I randomly pulled a book called Cross and the Switchblade by David Wilkerson off the shelf. It was the story of this pastor who moved to Downtown Brooklyn to preach to inner city gangs. Throughout the story, his attempts are met with disinterest and anger until one of the main gang leaders, Nicky Cruz, becomes a Christian. It was an interesting story, but it did not affect me personally. I had always believed in God. I grew up Catholic, and although I did not attend church or practice any religion, I felt I had a good relationship with God. It was the fundamental belief that I was ok with God as long as I did good and did not hurt anyone. However, it was odd that while reading the book, I found myself rooting for the gang members to become Christians. I did not consider myself a Christian in that way. Why would I want someone else to become that way if I were not?
Around the same time, my fellow prison guard friends and I met Sgt Phistner. One of our jobs during the day shift was to escort prisoners around the facility. Sgt Phistner was a prison counselor who met with prisoners before they were released. The goal was to give them guidance and direction so they would not end up in jail again. Our job was to lead the prisoners to the counseling room and stand outside with the door open in case anything went wrong. The guards were always in full earshot of the conversation between the prisoners and Sgt Phistner. He would follow a regular pattern for their plans when they got out, and how to avoid returning to jail. Inevitably, he would end by telling them that they had to become Christians. It took a while before I realized he was talking about the same thing I had read in Cross and the Switchblade: the need for a radical, life-changing conversion. I felt it was great that he was trying to help the prisoners start a new life. My fellow prison guards and I all spoke positively about him.
Soon after, he also began preaching to us. He talked about the need to accept Christ as your savior and that Christ died to make a way to heaven for us. My initial reaction was that it was not necessary for us. The inner city gang members needed a conversion experience, the prisoners needed a conversion experience, but I was ok, I did not need that kind of help, and months of coercion by him did not change my mind. He constantly took us to religious events that we thought were, at best, boring and, at worst, uncomfortable torture. Around the same time, I found another book in the prison library called Run Baby Run. To my amazement, it was a sequel to Cross and the Switchblade, and it was written by Nicky Cruz, the gang leader who became a Christian in the original book. My attitude again surprised me: I was rooting for people to become Christians when I rejected the idea. I struggled with this inconsistency, finally reconciling it by telling myself that one day, when I was ready, I would become a Christian, but not now.
I had way too much partying to do. I was “getting short,” and I had a month’s leave coming up after my stint in Okinawa was over. I was going to spend the month of September partying and hooking up with as many women as possible. That seemed to settle the issue in my mind. Then, sometime later, on the evening of July 21, I was with my friends in the barracks and Sgt Phistner walked in. I asked why he was here, and my friend Johnny said he wanted to get more questions answered at one of the meetings. I was surprised because we had gone several times and none of us liked the events.
On the other hand, nothing was going on that night, and Sgt Phister was encouraging us all to go, so Johnny, Al, Tobey, and I went downtown to the Teen Challenge building (the irony is not wasted by the fact that Sgt Phister is part of the same organization that David Wilkerson started from Cross and the Switchblade, and they had a building in Okinawa of all places!). It was the same as always. Nothing much is going on. Tobey and I sat down to play board games, and John and Al talked to Sgt Phistner about religious issues. I felt I had heard everything there was to hear, so I did not go with them. After a while, another leader came up to us and said we’re having a Bible study now. The guy we were playing with said you do not have to go, it was optional, but I was bored with the game, so I said I might as well go since I was there.
Tobey came with me. There were about 15 people in the room. The Bible Study was from the Book of James and favoritism to the rich at the expense of the poor. It had no specific impact on me. The leader said, “Let’s close in prayer. After the usual thank you, Lord for this and that (I was half listening), he said, “If there is anyone in the room that wants to become a Christian, raise their hands”. What happened in the next 5 seconds seemed like an eternity of debate to me. I felt this strong urge to raise my hand but said to mysel”, “I am not raising my hand”. I felt the urge again, but refused. What seemed like several minutes passed in this debate with myself, and suddenly, my hand was up. Only seconds had passed. What is my hand doing up??!!! The prayer ended, and the leader said everyone except those who had raised their hands could leave. My first thought was that Tobey was going to think I was an idiot for raisng my hand but incerdibly evryone leaves the room except me and him…I was shellshocked. I could not understand how I raised my hand, but knowing his disinterest in Christianity made me equally shocked that he raised his hand also. The leader led the sinners’ prayer. It was a whirlwind.
I had no idea what was happening, except for this overwhelming feeling that I had made a life-changing decision. After we walked out, Sgt Phister walked up to our Bible Study leader and said, “Meet two new brothers in the Lord. Al and Johnny had become Christians in the other room. The leader said these guys also. At that moment, a heavy guy broke into tongues praising God. I was unfamiliar with hearing that and had no idea what was happening. All I knew was that I felt something indescribable, as if all the angels in heaven above were rejoicing along with him at a soul’s salvation. My mind was reeling. Al and Johnny, too? All in the same night, all at basically the exact moment? Could that be a mere coincidence?
Immediately, they admonished us that the devil would attack us and try to get us to reject the faith. I was cynical but silent. I still did not know what was happening and needed more time to evaluate it. One thing I could not let go of was that the incident was big, very big, life-changing. We left and went back to the barracks. One of the rules of the barracks is that no alcohol is allowed. I had been there since August of 1974, and this was July of 75. In 11 months, I had never seen alcohol there. However, when we returned that night, all our buddies were partying with a few cases of beer and whiskey. I was pretty shocked since the penalty for that was pretty severe. They could have wound up in jail themselves. When we came in, they offered us booze, and we said no because we had just become Christians. They immediately went berserk. I was blown away. The hatred and disgust on their faces could not help but remind me of what they had just told us at the meeting. The devil would attack us. I can still see the anger in their faces and think that these guys are my friends. What’s the big deal about becoming a Christian? It does not harm them. I could not shake the feeling that this was more than a coincidence. In the months to come, similar things would take place. When I shared my faith with others about my experience, it felt like someone else was talking through me. I felt a boldness to preach that seemed to come outside myself.
Eventually, in the years that followed, a lot of that “feeling” disappeared, and I never felt anything as powerful as I did back then. I may get a hint of it on a beautiful spring day, on the beach, or in nature’s beauty as I ski down a mountain on the West Coast. Still, I cannot believe that it was all subjective emotion. The coincidences outside the subjective were just too many. It’s up to my faith in those past events to sustain me the rest of the way.