From the BIC Missions Office --- Long term BIC missionaries Alvin and Thata Book were killed in an auto accident in Zimbabwe on Tuesday, August 5, 2003.
In an evening trip from Bulawayo to the BIC Bible School at
Mtshabezi, where they had recently volunteered to serve, they were involved in a head-on collision with a tractor trailer.
For over 50 years the Books have faithfully served our Lord through the church in diverse places like Zimbabwe, Venezuela and the Bronx, New York, as well as in the role of Bishop in North America. Since 1993 the Books have served as representatives-at-large for Brethren in Christ World Missions.
While their sudden passing is a shock to us all, we know that our brother and sister were at peace serving in the place they considered home in many ways. John Brubaker, Director of BIC World Missions, talked with Al before they left for Zimbabwe and cautioned him about their trip because they are "getting up in years". Al responded by saying that Zimbabwe was their home, and they were ready to die there. Al and Thata will be buried at Matopo Mission, where they began their ministry and where all of their children were born.
They leave behind a grieving family of grown children and many ministry associates. Their son, Curtis, and his wife, Les, missionaries to Colombia, were in Zimbabwe for the Mennonite World Conference, at the time of the accident; so they got to see Al and Thata briefly earlier that day.
The Books will be buried at Matopo
Mission in Zimbabwe, where they began their ministry and where all of their children were
born. A memorial service is tentatively planned for Sunday, August
17th at 2:00 pm at Grantham Church on the campus of Messiah College, Grantham,
Pennsylvania.
The lives and service of Alvin and Thata Book were remembered and their bodies interred in Zimbabwe at Matopo Mission on Sunday. Following tributes from Zimbabwe, Colombia and North America; son Curtis shared on the Stewardship of Life concluding with a word that his father's spear has been passed on to him, the spear of service.
Curtis and Les plan to join the rest of the family for a memorial service planned for Sunday, August 17th, 2:00 pm at Grantham BIC Church. Read the Bulawayo funeral service program and tributes from North America here: www.bic-church.org/wm/news/book.htm
August 15, 2003
Dear family and friends,
Priscilla is writing this letter. I am one of the communicators in the family. I am also a detail person - always wanting to know the details about what happened. I'm also a tell-me-the-story person. Maybe you are one of those people too, so I will share some of what I know with you. I have received literally hundreds of e-mails and calls.
Some of the most precious communication has been with Edgar Moyo in London. Edgar is a Zimbabwean gentleman who has lived in London for many years now. He worked in Mom and Dad's home in their early days at Matopo Mission and they had a special bond. Last month, Mom and Dad visited with him during their 12-hour layover in London. I have received many e-mails from Edgar in which he has shared so very meaningfully with me. You'll read some of that.
Dad and Mom left here July 21. They had a couple of days in Johannesburg before they took the bus to Bulawayo and arrived there July 24. Shortly thereafter, they left and went out to Ekuphileni Bible Institute (EBI) where Dad was going to teach one course, do general maintenance and repair, and together they planned simply to meet the spiritual, physical, emotional or social needs of anyone who had needs to be met. In a nutshell, that summarizes what their lives were all about.
My cousin Beth Book described them well. "Your parents are heroes of the faith. . .modern day heroes and do you know why they were? It is simple! They represented Jesus so authentically -- no frills, no need for praise, no special skills . . . just acted, thought, and spoke like Jesus would have if He were here! We loved Al and Thata because we loved the Jesus we saw in them. What a challenge for all of us!" Dad and Mom had worked in Africa, the Bronx, the Brethren in Christ Allegheny conference, Nicaragua, Honduras, and Venezuela. They loved people on all those continents. Edgar says they were "very happy, and very much looking forward to their return to 'e Kaya', which is Ndebele for 'home.' " Indeed, we know that Africa was home. Shortly after arriving, they left to go out to Ekuphileni.
On August 5, they went back into Bulawayo to buy supplies for a work team that was to arrive at Ekuphileni to help with repairs. They were returning home in the mission pick-up truck when they had the accident. It was about 7:30 p.m. and dark. They were on a two lane paved highway. However, the lanes are not very wide. They swerved into the pathway of a truck. Many others and I had assumed that the fact that vehicles drive on the left side of the road in Zimbabwe had something to do with it. Apparently not.
From Curt and Les's letters, it seems that the on-coming truck (lorry) was traveling too close to the center of the road. Dad veered off the road to avoid hitting it. The rugged shoulder must have caused loss of control and they careened into the on-coming truck. An EBI student who was on the passenger side sustained no serious physical injury.
It was he who notified Jake and Nancy Shenk - veteran Brethren in Christ missionaries in Zimbabwe. Mom, who had been sitting in the middle died immediately of head and internal injuries. We don't know the extent or nature of Dad's injuries. When pulled out of the vehicle, he was moaning and praying. He died shortly thereafter. We feel quite sure that Dad's will to live would have been lessened by knowing that Mom was already gone. Survival without his lifelong companion would have been so very difficult.
My dear brother Curtis and his dear wife Les were in Zimbabwe for the Mennonite World Conference (MWC). They have carried the major family responsibility so far - not the least of which being that Curtis offered to preach the funeral sermon and give the family tribute. The funeral was held at Bulawayo Central Church. About 300 people were there.
Tributes were offered by Isaac Mpofu (who wrote the play about early missionaries to Zimbabwe seen by many of you several years ago), Ken Hoke and Ricardo Tovar. Ricardo is Curt and Les's pastor in Colombia and is married to Sandra who was from Cagua -- the church planted by Dad and Mom in Venezuela. These three gentlemen represented the continents on which Mom and Dad served God.
Burial was in the Matopo Mission cemetery. Dad and Mom were buried next to Jesse Engle, one of the first BIC missionaries to Africa. I know they wanted to be buried there in the event of this. They would have felt so honored to have that particular spot. Dad's grave is right in front of Jesse Engle's, and Mom's in front of that of Sara Zook Cress. They are shaded by a lovely big tree -- the "m'kuna" tree as Edgar names it (I still haven't learned the meaning.) All of my siblings and I were born while Mom and Dad served at Matopo.
From my early childhood where we frolicked over the beautiful African terrain, I remember that tree. It seemed large then, so I surmise that it was either there or planted at the time the cemetery was laid out - over a century ago. Mom and Dad were placed in their graves next to each other with their heads next to the patriarch and matriarch who preceded them "as if they can just lay back and look up at the leaves of the beautiful tree and see the African sunset" (Les). Les writes that one of the things she noted was that when the Africans give a hug to console, "they press very, very tightly as if to absorb your pain and lend their very strength."
This past Tuesday, Curt and Les went out to Mtshabezi Mission to Ekuphileni to sort through Mom and Dad's things. Curt and Les had worked at that very place. Les writes . . . "It was very, very hard for us to see. Mom and Dad had only just started to organize their things. By their bedsides were Mom's prayer notebook, some novels, books, and all of their things. Dad's work clothes were tossed over one of the chairs as if he expected to put them on as soon as he returned. All of the drawers were nice and tidy. Really, they took very little to Zimbabwe.
We ate and Curtis and I got weepy. I said to Curtis, 'I thought and dreamt about drinking tea here with mom and dad, and taking walks and just reminiscing together.' Curtis and I walked around a bit alone and saw the house where we lived. Then we drove down to the shop. There we saw that Dad had already welded together a frame for his workbench. He was all ready to work and get started. I was especially sad to see Mom's fridge. She had a few quarts of beans cooked up -- I imagine for the hungry when they would come to her door. There were chocolate chip cookies in the fridge and another container in the freezer. I imagined drinking tea with her; in fact the little teapot still had two teabags in it. I will bring the Tanganda teabags she had and we can all drink it together remembering them."
When Mom told me in June that they had definitely decided to go to Ekuphileni, I commented about the danger there because political opposition forces are known to be targeting people such as them. Mom's response went something like this. "It doesn't matter. I would be honored to be murdered and die a martyr. Then, I'd just go home to be with God and my body could be buried at Matopo."
My nephew Andrew commented to his Mom, Sheila, that he believed that Grandma and Grandma were going back to Africa to die. Because I am intrigued by statistics, sometime I want Clinton -- my son who is known for his mathematical ability -- to calculate the probability that all the remarkable events surrounding their death happened by what we humans know as "mere coincidence." (Okay, mathematicians, I acknowledge that even figuring out how to set up such a problem is almost impossible.)
The factors: Mom and Dad died together, in the land they most loved, with son from South America there, on the day before the Roxbury Camp Missions Day, and we had had the chance to say goodbye and tell them we loved them. The probability figure would be mind-boggling. Andrew was right. I think Dad and Mom had some foreknowledge of their upcoming death. Our grief is profound because the world's loss is profound. However, since death is inevitable anyway, our main wish is that we could have had ten more good years. Everyone knows wishes like that are frivolous.
In an e-mail, Edgar Moyo wrote that "dear Rev Alvin Book's nickname was 'Ngwalo' - none other. It is a si Ndebele translation for the Book as in the Good Book (Bible) - 'U Mfundis u Ngwalo.'" He continued, "When next you are in Bulawayo you tell them you are of the 'Mfundisi and Nkosikazi Ngwalo.' If they are BIC they will know instantly -- just as the Climenhaga brothers were always telling the story about someone saying these boys are John Climenhaga's sons. Everyone looked confused until Arthur and David would say 'of S'Kwabayile' (he who struts along with extreme confidence) and enlightenment would prevail."
My siblings and I consider it an unspeakable privilege to be children of Mfundisi ("the revered one") and Nkosikazi ("the first wife") Ngwalo. Truly, our own children have also received a remarkable heritage, a true blessing. Among those blessings are our friendships with you who knew our parents and the ways in which you have enriched our lives. We have received literally countless expressions of love and support from you, our dear friends and acquaintances.
Thank you for being here.
With love,
Priscilla for all the Book family