1964 was a year of many changes. My family, the Hoyts, were in the USA, yet Argentina was in us. How did we adapt or adjust to the unknown? Life and customs in the US were now the foreign culture, especially to us kids.
Coming from the heat of summer, we arrived in the cold of winter. How did we manage the necessary wardrobe change overnight? A vague image floats in my memory of walking off a plane wearing heels and a summer dress and jacket onto an icy windy airport walkway.
The decades have erased the details of settling into a new world. The transition drained our time and energy. Few letters remain to record the stories. I am grateful for the miraculous survival of my vast correspondence with Mirtha, my dearest friend. Years back when my brother and sister-in-law lived in Argentina, on one of their return trips to the US, they brought the letters that I begged to borrow for the duration of their visit. During that time, our house burned down and the binder-full was among the archival items recovered!
I wrote one letter to Mirtha in 1964. It saddened me to realize that it was only in February that I began a response to her letter. She was the first to write after our family's departure in December. I was even more chagrined to note that it was not till July that I finally completed and mailed my letter, by then four long pages.
I thanked her profusely, and chided her, "Why did you write me such a beautiful letter when I haven't even written you in months?" then proceeded to explain:
I only have 10 minutes before lights out. Because I don't know if you knew that I am in Grace College, Winona Lake, Indiana. I am studying and working. I barely have time to breathe. . . I've been waiting for free time to open up to write to you, but now I realize that it will never happen, so I decided to use the little moments.
From what follows I understood that there was one person I was corresponding with faithfully, the boyfriend I had left behind.
I will not be able to tell you everything about how I came to be here, but if you wait a little, when Julio arrives in the Bible Institute [March] he will be able to tell you much more.
As I said, I am here. . . My parents wanted me to come, and I also wanted to do something rather than be home without anything to do, so here I am.
I am very grateful that since I moved out, away from my family, the Lord has guided me wonderfully and provided all my needs more than I could ask or think. . . I know that He placed me here.
He also gave me a job in an amazing way. I work part time for Spanish World Gospel Broadcasting, Inc.
I worked part-time doing secretarial tasks for the founder and director, Florent Toirac from Cuba.
I had a new roommate, Linda Crowder, who also enrolled second semester. I wrote about her troubled life to Mirtha.
She's lived in thirteen different homes. The last three years of high school she also worked and had her own apartment. She met a pastor's family in September who welcomed her into their home. Their daughter was studying at Grace and that's how Linda ended up there. She has had many problems these months.
As I read further, I recognized how far apart our life experiences had been. However, she confided in me and I prayed for her. Linda had a hard time keeping to a schedule and abiding by the rules. She was so used to living independently and doing her own thing. The dean of women, Mrs. Miriam Uphouse, was very good to her, like a mother, even when she reprimanded her. Linda appreciated the discipline. In fact, she said that all her life she had envied other children who were spanked or punished.
The story ended tragically. Linda tended to fall behind, get depressed, disappear, and get in trouble. She finally took her own life.
After the end of the semester, Daddy and my brother Lynn came to Winona Lake to take me away for a two week vacation. I joined the family in Evans City, Pennsylvania, for a visit as they packed and prepared to leave the Hirschy homestead and spend the remainder of their furlough based in Indiana.
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| Hoyt family, summer 1964 Rita wearing waitress uniform |
Other news in my extended letter to Mirtha, dated July 16, was that I had a summer job as a waitress at the Westminster Hotel. Winona Lake was a popular venue for a variety of Christian conferences. I mentioned that some weeks were busier than others depending on the attendance at each event. It seems that this particular week there was not as much work. I then dedicated time to write a page to each of my neglected faraway friends.
I ended the letter apologizing profusely for not communicating all those many months and, despite my admission of total failure, finally determined to mail it anyway, including the outdated entries.
How much richer these memories would be if all the letters I received from my friends had not gone missing throughout the travels and travails of many decades.
~~~~~
I have one surviving letter in my mother's beautiful handwriting, written to her mother, December 2, 1964, almost a year from the time of our arrival in the US. The date tells me that I was not the only one with time management issues during this transition year.
The family was based in the Winona Lake house Dad built during the previous furlough. And, not surprisingly, they continued to make improvements on the house, finishing areas of the basement--a bedroom and paneling.
Dad was often invited to speak in the various supporting churches. Mother and the boys traveled with him on weekends if the distance and their school schedule allowed. I usually stayed back, very involved in college obligations. We did, however, spend a week together as a family at a camp during the summer.
Two of our uncles lived nearby. Some from out of state came to visit, and we stayed with others on our travels. Slowly we were getting reacquainted.
We celebrated American holidays. Our neighbors invited us over for a sumptuous Thanksgiving dinner.
I treated my family to one of Grace college's theatre events, "Father of the Bride." They enjoyed the performance.
Interestingly, that winter Dad took up a side job in construction working for Mr. Kaiser. He liked it, but not the cold. Brrrr!
~~~~~
Meanwhile, significant changes were taking place in Argentina. The Missionary Herald, in a June 13 article "ARGENTINA MOVES FORWARD" attempted to summarize what God was doing in each area---Bible Institute, literature, radio, Christian Day School, and more--recognizing that much more time and space was required to convey the complete picture.
The work here is in the midst of change--CHANGE--but not in the message we proclaim nor the purpose we pursue. . .
The change in the midst of which we find ourselves is a healthy one. Our Argentine Brethren are taking over more and more of the responsibilities of the work. Thus we need no longer speak of the "Brethren Mission" in Argentina, but of "The Brethren Church of the Argentine Republic," duly orgnized, functioning, and recognized before the government.
There were several firsts that year, among them:
- The first family camp, added to the other three for children, adolescents, and youth.
- The first time annual conference convened at the denomination's campground, Cerro San Lorenzo.
- The Santa Rosa congregation met for the first time in its own meeting place on March 1. And in April, Alberto Sotola was ordained there.
- The Cover family moved to Río Cuarto to initiate the evangelical literature ministry. The bookstore El Heraldo opened in August.
- Another Christian bookstore, La Buena Lectura, opened in Lomas de Zamora in September.
- The first printed special edition of El Heraldo Evangélico Argentino came out in October.
- Two recent graduates of the Bible Institute began serving in Buenos Aires area churches: Angel Camandona (Pachín) in our own Don Bosco, and Benjamín Enrici in Mármol.
Pachín is such a fine young fellow, and very unfortunately he happened to be driving and went to sleep (at 5:00 in the morning) and they plowed into the back of a truck. It really wrecked the car but could have been much worse. The car went out of control and went for about 100 yards, into a ditch, but didn't turn over. Pachín had his hands cut badly from the glass from the windshield, and the other fellow, . . . received a blow to the head. He was unconscious all the next day, and the doctor wasn't sure he was going to live, but the following night he awoke and it looks as if he will be all right. He and Don were sound asleep when it happened. They notified the men who were still in Río Cuarto, and Jim and Hill left as soon as they could in Mr. Shrock's car and got to the town where they were about 8:00 Friday night and stayed with them Friday and came on home about noon Saturday. Jim sat up with Juan Colle all night. He [Juan] was to preach all this week in special meetings in Don Bosco [correction: Villa Domínico].
Poor Pachín. Jim said that their hardest job was trying to cheer him up--he naturally felt so badly about it. Said he'd never preach again, never drive a car again, etc. Juan is one of his best friends and he was afraid he was going to die and felt responsible. Well, it was just too bad, but we know some good will come of it all.
Jim said it was really impressive how nicely everyone treated them, the policemen, hospital people, believers who opened up their homes to them for eating and sleeping, the mechanics, just everyone.
Both Pachín and Juan went on to lead very fruitful ministries and raised wonderful families.
And now, decades later, from the perspective of many weathered trials, I too am encouraged to keep on keeping on!
"Let us not grow weary in well-doing, for in due time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up (Galatians 6:9 BSB)."
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