David A. Strebe
Aug. 1957 to Dec. 1959
Saturday, Nov. 9, 2002
Florence, Arizona




 
Elder Taylor and I arrived in Korea August 19, 1957 and departed the last week of December 1959. My home at the time of my mission call was El Cajon, California. Presently, La Rea and I live in Pinal County, Arizona. Address: P. O. Box 1862, Florence, Az 85232. We are both retired teachers and we are looking forward to the birth of our twenty-second grand child next February. We are very pleased with our six children. They all give more than they take from society.


I am ever grateful for my experience in Korea. It will last into the eternities.

Like many of the early missionaries, my experience started long before the official mission call. I in an army assignment. As I thought about what to write, my thoughts turned to this military time in 1953 -1954.


In September 1953 I landed at Inchon and was sent at once to the front high in the mountains. The war had stopped and we spent the fall and winter building fortifications and running security patrols in the DMZ. Over the period of six months, I drew close to the Korean soldiers assigned to our unit.


One winter night, I was assigned to a patrol; half GI's, half ROK. We started off the mountain to go down to the DMZ. It started to snow as we departed. The snow came fast and soon buried the trail. Suddenly Private Chang tripped on a wire. He cried out "Stopoo!" The sergeant came back to see what the problem was. The wire marked the beginning of a mine field. The head of the column was about thirty yards into the mine field. We retraced our steps and avoided the hazard. We went on and completed our patrol. It was very strenuous and exhausting. The return climb to our position was excruciating in the snow on the steep slopes.


When we got to the top, we were informed that we would now have to stand guard the rest of the night. It was very disheartening to me. I began to feel the cold as my sweating body now had to be stationary and stand in the wind at the top of the hill.


Suddenly a thought occurred to me. "You have the Gospel of Jesus Christ. If you feel this bad, how must the others feel?" I began to sing a hymn at the top of my voice. When I finished, from another point on the hill, a beautiful tenor voice responded singing a hymn in Korean. We Hasa ( corporal) Lee and I traded off singing hymns the rest of the night.


Through the winter Private Chang and I drew close as we shared the same guard assignment. By sign language and a few words we shared many thoughts and experience. We became good friends. One morning as we came off the hill, after a bitter cold night, I was too tired to go on down the hill where a hot meal was being served. I stayed at our tent. Chang went on. In a few moments, Chang reappeared, out of breath. He had a cup of coffee in his hand. He had gone down in the valley, got the coffee and then ran up the hill to bring it to me. I tried to explain to him that I did not drink coffee, but he did not understand. As I tried to explain the more, I could see the hurt in his eyes. I smiled and took the cup and took a big swallow of the then tepid brew. I was so touched by Chang's caring sacrifice for me.


Spring came and we were to be removed from the front. The ROK troops would leave a week before us. It saddened me to part from these men. Just before they boarded the trucks, about twenty of the ROK soldiers gathered around me. They handed me a gift. It was a leather bound New Testament. With tear filled eyes I bid farewell to my friends.


My heart still aches. For I have not done enough. My mission extended in Korea from August 1957 to December 1959. I may have set some kind of record, having spent my entire mission in one place; never transferred. I served with giants. Elders Carr, Anderson, Orme, Newman, Frye, Tyler. With the help of Elders Brown and Till, Elder Newman and I saw the East Branch in Seoul grow into a second branch, East Gate Branch.


I never did conquer the language. I could not hear the language. I have since learned that I have a handicap. I sometimes cannot hear my own native language. It is all garbled. My contribution to the Korean Mission is simple. I was there, and so others taught the gospel. 


My only real contribution is that I love the Korean people.


I am not sure if any of this is valid. If some is useful I will be pleased.


May the Lord continue with you and yours.


Love, Elder Strebe

A KOREAN QUEEN


The Mormon Elders were walking up the dirt road to reach the group of homes at the top of the hill. It was dry and very warm. Everything was hard and so very dry. The monsoon had not yet began for the summer. The only moisture was in a shallow ditch at the side of the road.


The mud was black as tar and had an odor all of it's own. These Elders had been having a hard time adjusting to one an other's mannerisms. Comically like the odd couple. One Mr. Clean, the other laid back.


So when I , looking off in another direction placed a foot in that ditch, Mr. Clean folded his arms and tried to swallow his nose to keep from laughing out loud. Now this laid-back Elder was distressed as that black smelly slime oozed into my shoe. We were several miles from home. Now, I ask you what is a body supposed to do?


Below the pair, coming up the hill, came an Ah-jah-moon-ee (auntie is the word used for a woman whose name you don't know) with a yolk across her shoulders. On each end of the yoke, hung a five gallon bucket filled with water. In 1959, most homes in Seoul, Korea had no water. Water had to be carried, sometimes for miles from a potable water source. Such was the burden that she carried. When she came up to me, she put down her load. She knelt in the dirt and lifted my foot and removed my shoe and sock. Patiently she cleaned the sock and shoe with her hard earned cargo. When she was satisfied, she again lifted my foot and washed it and dried it with the hem of her long dress. She restored sock and shoe to my foot. I was overcome with gratitude.


"Thank you so much. What can I do for you?"


"Nothing."


"Please may I carry your burden to your home?"


"No. My neighbors will mock me."


"Oh please let me do something."


"No. My children will laugh at me."


"May I come to your home and offer a prayer?"


"No. My husband will beat me. I am just a dog."


"Oh no! Not so sister!" Seemingly there was nothing to do for this wonderful lady. As She finished tying my shoe I laid my hands on her head and said a prayer and gave her a blessing. It was part in Korean and part in English because of my limited ability in her language. I blessed her that God's blessings would come to her in this life and that honor would come to her in the life hereafter. I promised her that some day that she would be honored as a queen in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.


Elder David A. Strebe

ANOTHER KOREAN ROAD


Fall of 1959 would be the last District Report meeting for me. As always, it was a special time. The Elders from Pusan were greeted at Seoul Yok. When they went to shake hands with the greeting Elders, the Pusan Elders were surprised when a couple of Elders produced scissors and clipped off Pusan ties.


In the evening, we all congregated at the West Branch elders home as there was enough room to accommodate all. We were anxious to meet with President and Sister Andrus the next day.


We stayed up and visited for some time. Then Elder Taylor complained of not feeling well, He was administered to and we all settled in for the night.


About 2:00 A.M., Elder Taylor rolled off his bed in agony. For some reason that I cannot remember, Elder Porter and I got dressed and said that we would go find some help.


In those days, Seoul had a curfew. No one was to be on the streets at that hour of the morning. When we got outside, there was a light rain falling and the clouds hung very low on the hills above the home. We stood in the narrow dark road trying to determine which direction to go and what to do when we did move. We were like the buzzards in Walt Disney's "Jungle Book"


"Elder Porter. What should we do?"


"I don't know. What do you want to do?"


As we stood pondering, far up on a hill, a car engine started. Then the vehicle lights came on. We couldn't see them but, we could see the glow in the clouds. We watched as the car meandered down the hill. There were at least 5 or 6 different turns that it could have made. But the driver came directly to us. He stopped and asked if we needed help. We told him that we had a sick person in the house. Could he take us to the hospital? He said yes. We ran to the house and helped Elder Taylor to the car.


Once in, the car jumped. We careened though the narrow street and roared onto one of the main thoroughfares. Suddenly ahead of us was a guard station. The guards started spilling from the office, automatic weapons leveled at us. I was in the front seat and Elder Porter was holding Elder Taylor.


I looked nervously at the driver. He reached down and flicked a switch. The car glowed with light inside. It was then that I saw the diplomatic flags on the front fenders. The guards in the street snapped to attention saluting with their weapons. This happened twice more on the way to the hospital.


We quickly debarked and got Elder Taylor inside. I turned to thank and offer to pay the driver, but he and the car had vanished. After we got Elder Taylor settled, we decided to go to Yurak Dong as it was the closest place for us to get some rest. On the way, we encountered on more guard station. Again we were challenged, but when we got close, the guards saluted and let us pass.


Elder David Strebe

STREET MEETING


In downtown Seoul, there is a Gazebo like structure. It is used for getting on a soap box and expressing your concerns or ideas. In 1958, the Elders in Seoul decided that it would be the ideal place for a street meeting. So we gathered there after having prayer. An individual had most peoples attention on one side of the stand.


We began by singing a hymn in Korean and suddenly there was a huge crowd in front and around us. We each took turns with short gospel messages and sang another hymn.


Then the mob surged on us. Many just curious, some interested. The press became so heavy that we were soon separated from one another. I found my self surrounded by a group of street thugs. They were some what threatening. The apparent leader of the group started jabbing me in the chest with his forefinger.


"There is no God," he shouted, and continued, "Show me a sign!" over and over again to the delight of his buddies. Each time that he poked me, I tried to move back but I would be pushed forward.


The Lord came to my rescue. In perfect Korean I said, "It is a wicked and perverse generation that seeks for a sign."


The leader's jaw fell open and he slumped back as if I had hit him with some force. His companions broke into laughter and started pounding him on the back saying, "There's your sign."


The crowd around me broke up after that.


Elder David Strebe

He's A Member of Your Church


In January 1958, Elder Newman I were out knocking on doors. It was a bitter cold morning and Elder Newman was suffering from the cold and getting sick. It was so cold that the moisture in our noses froze and nobody wanted to open a door to us. We had worked all morning without any contact. We stopped at a spot in the road debating to go on or to quit and go home. We were at the mouth of a lane. Elder Newman said lets try this one before we go home.


We knocked at the first door and were greeted warmly and invited in.


"We have been waiting for you. Kim Jin Jong said that you would come. He's a Deacon in your church you know."


And so it continued into the afternoon. Door after door opened to us because Brother Kim Jin Jong cared enough to share with his neighbors. He had lovingly shared with his peers as well at the high school. He is a wonderful example of the support that we received as missionaries from the Korean Saints.


Elder Strebe