Journal Highlights: Roads I Have Traveled ... Excerpt #3 Nagorno-Karabakh, 1998

(continued): Nagorno-Karabakh: August, 1998:Stepanakert was our destination. It is the capital of Nagorno-Karabakh and houses the country’s government buildings. The helicopter pilots gently set our ugly orange bird down in the midst of its own tornado and dust storm. When the chopper blades ceased rotating, a pilot named Uri opened the door, and we were allowed to crawl out. The air was hot and muggy, and there was no breeze at all after the helicopter’s windstorms died down. Vans were at the airport runway to meet us at Zori’s prearranged direction. I already perceived that Stepanakert is a lot different than Yerevan. There was something of bleak solemnity that permeated the spirit of the city. I could feel it. No one smiled. The expressions on people’s faces showed neither happiness nor pleasantness; rather, their facial muscles drooped, which had the effect of making their eyes look even sadder.

Our vans and taxis rendezvoused at the government buildings in the center of Stepanakert. The hotel in which four of us are scheduled to stay is only one block away from the main government building. I grabbed my luggage and went quickly with the others to get checked into our rooms and freshen up a bit before our scheduled 5:00 p.m. meeting with the minister of health.

The hotel had known its days of glory and splendor in the past, I was certain. But that must have been over a hundred years in the past. Since then, I don’t think any maintenance had been performed at all. In addition, the building had taken some direct hits during the bombings of the past few years. As we entered, I looked up to the ceiling of the lobby area and marveled at the half-destroyed remnants of crystal chandeliers hanging precariously from the ceiling. Most of the crystal pendants were missing, and the few that remained closely matched in color the tarnished brass of the fixture. I guess I should have just kept focusing on the broken chandeliers, but I made the mistake of looking around at where we were expected to stay. Most of the rooms were uninhabitable, with collapsed plaster ceilings or broken walls or doors. I recalled all the terrible places around the world where I had been expected to lay my head down and sleep, and at first I figured I would just take a deep breath and make the present situation work.

A pudgy, unkempt woman met us as we came in and handed us a couple of keys. She then accompanied us to our rooms on the third floor. On our way upstairs, I began to notice that the hotel wasn’t just old and war damaged; it was grossly filthy. At the door to one room, the unpleasant innkeeper communicated to us in Armenian that she expected three of us to stay there. But there were only two beds. We protested, but she countered by showing us that it was the only room in the hotel that had its own bathroom. We stepped in to have a look-see—we shouldn’t have. She lost her sales point. The bathroom was a terrible fright. The floor had been torn up and not repaired, so there were piles of dirt and broken concrete to sidestep. The mirror consisted of just a few broken chunks that still stuck to the wall. The sink was crusty, but we were to discover that this didn’t count for much, since there was no running water available on floors two and three. Obviously the toilet wasn’t of much use, since there was no running water. But they had tried to compensate for that by filling the dilapidated bathtub with some drain water they had carried up in a rusty bucket and dumped.

I made signs to the lady as if I were turning on and off a water spigot, and hand motions as if I were taking a shower. She cracked about a half smile and pointed back down the stairs. We all then communicated to her that we wanted to see the running water downstairs. After all, we were going to be here the major portion of a week! She pointed to her watch and indicated that there would be no water even downstairs until after 5:00 p.m. We insisted on seeing the shower room anyway. I will let your own imagination paint the picture of what we found there.

Thinking we had no other options, we put our suitcases in the rooms, and as we walked down the stairs and out the door to our meeting with the minister of health, Dr. Scott Stenquest, Dr. Anthony Peel, and I talked about perhaps using the old sofas in the lobby as beds.

Our meeting with the health minister, Dr. Aleksander Petrossian, really got our visit off on the right foot. There was an instant bonding between the two of us, and I knew I would be able to work with him in the future. I explained to him all about Project C.U.R.E., why we had come, and how the needs assessments would be conducted in his hospitals with his cooperation and blessing. I was then perhaps a little more stern with the health minister than I needed to be in explaining my expectations for getting the containers into the country and the distribution process. 

While I was laying down my points in no uncertain terms, I had a flashback of my presentation in a similar situation in Benin, West Africa, when my snippy, little Baptist missionary, who had never had a meeting with a government official higher than the local traffic cop, chided me and told me I had no right talking to a cabinet minister in that tone of voice. Pushing that picture aside, I kept up with the pressure. I was demanding written assurances of getting the medical goods into the country without customs hassles, levied taxes, or transportation delays. I also demanded the right to distribute the goods as we see fit based on the findings of our needs assessment and not based on political determinations. I joked with him just enough to keep him smiling and his head going up and down.

I asked the minister to give me wise counsel as to which hospitals we should visit and in what order. He agreed that by Monday morning at 9:00, he would have all the answers ready for me, and the hospitals notified of my arrival.

At 7:30 p.m., Zori Balayan ushered our delegation into the office of the prime minister of Nagorno-Karabakh, Zhirayr T. Poghosyan. Baroness Cox was extremely gracious in her introduction of Project C.U.R.E. to the prime minister. We only had time to greet Mr. Poghosyan with a few words, because he had pulled himself from another scheduled meeting to meet briefly with us and greet us. It is certainly helpful having Zori make sure we receive our requested appointments with any of the government officials.

Dinner was scheduled at 9:00 p.m. in the lower level of the government building. At dinner Zori told us that this is Lady Cox’s thirty-ninth trip to Nagorno-Karabakh. I have watched in amazement while we have been in Armenia and Karabakh at the recognition and reception the local people give to Baroness Cox. Everyone knows her, or at least who she is. To them she is almost a patron saint. She was there all during the war and held nothing back within her ability, giving aid and comfort during the people’s darkest hours. My respect for her has grown by the day. She really has a gift of love for the oppressed and particularly those of the persecuted Christian church. I am not surprised in the least that she has been given nearly every international humanitarian award for her spirit and her work.

Next Week: Mountain Top Banquet

© Dr. James W. Jackson   

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Journal Highlights: Roads I Have Traveled ... Excerpt #2 Nagorno-Karabakh, 1998

(continued): Nagorno-Karabakh: August, 1998: The road to the city center of Yerevan, Armenia, passed by a lot of evidence of poverty and deferred maintenance. But the closer we came to the metro area, the more impressive Yerevan loomed. In the distance the beautiful national football stadium, which has a seating capacity of seventy-five thousand soccer fans, could be seen. There were several new buildings, and construction cranes were in place erecting other buildings. Could this be the city that suffered so much from the catastrophic earthquakes in Armenia in 1988, when a quarter of a million people were killed or displaced? 

The downtown hub of the city of Yerevan is one of the most attractive I have ever seen. Buildings of coordinated architecture form a loose circle. Fountains, trees, and one building with a huge city clock grace the city center. But the streets were nearly void of people on this quiet Saturday morning. Business people were home with their families, resting from a busy week, and the majority of movement in the streets was from a cool breeze that wafted its way through the large green trees lining the freshly washed streets leading toward the city hub. I thought to myself, These people have a lot of personal and civic pride. What a welcome contrast to the thousands of dirty, unkempt cities I visit in the developing world. 

Our plans had been to leave right away on our journey to Stepanakert, Nagorno-Karabakh. But somehow the personal communications network had tangled, and since our hosts had not yet arrived at the hotel to meet us, we retreated upstairs and ate a lovely breakfast in the hotel dining room. Eventually our hosts arrived, and we piled into some Russian-built vans and headed to a domestic airport on the outskirts of Yerevan. 

While in Yerevan, we were introduced to one of the most interesting characters of the entire cast of players in Armenia. The historic saga has included many colorful players, but perhaps none more enigmatic as Zori Balayan. Zori is a trained surgeon and has throughout his life been a master sportsman. He has written more than forty books, and during the Soviet occupation of Armenia and Nagorno-Karabakh, he represented his people in Moscow as a people’s deputy in the politburo. Now he is perhaps the leading member of Parliament in the Nagorno-Karabakh republic. In my estimation, Zori is the most influential behind-the-scenes leader in Karabakh. He has a godly old mother of character and wisdom, who prays for him daily, and he honors and respects her greatly. 

I might be mistaken in my personal evaluation of the situation, since I’ve known Zori Balayan for such a short time, but after reading some of his works, observing him up close, and watching the people around him, I judge that he is the kingmaker of Nagorno-Karabakh and perhaps even of Armenian politics. If Zori scheduled a meeting for Baroness Cox or me, the people at whatever level canceled everything else to attend the meeting. 

Zori led us from the downtown hotel to the airport. We passed easily through the heavy security, and our vans actually drove right down the runway to where the flying equipment was parked. 

You have no idea the delight I felt as I crawled out of the van. By going into that guarded airport facility, I had been suddenly transported back into the pages of recent Soviet history. The feeling of awe I felt as my feet hit the tarmac was supercharged as I looked up and spotted in the background another object with even more emotional significance to me. Imposing itself on everything within its influence was the gigantic, snow-clad phenomenon of Mount Ararat, where Noah’s ark had landed so many millennia earlier. The mountain towers more than sixteen thousand feet from its base, taller by two thousand feet than any of the majestic mountains in Colorado. 

Lined up on either side of the runway were pristine vintage Soviet aircraft from a bygone era. The Armenians are still using the large biplanes from World War II. Mixed in with the other planes were the Russian hot-rod Yak-40 military planes still used by many of the Soviet officers. The Yak-40, as you know if you’ve read my other journal entries, has become perhaps my favorite airplane. It seats about twenty-five people and is powered not by one jet engine but by three jet engines mounted at the tail of the plane. It’s like riding on the back of a rocket. 

Farther down the runway were parked perfect specimens of Russia’s famous MiG fighters. The Soviets had abandoned all the equipment in Armenia following the breakup of the Soviet Union. 

Our van had stopped right in front of two Russian Mil Mi-8 combat helicopters. One was painted in camouflage colors; the other was an ugly faded-orange color with blue-and-black trim. It was obvious that the helicopters had been used and abused during the war and in subsequent months. 

Zori told me, “We used to have to negotiate these rugged mountains with mules. Today the helicopters are our mules.” 

Our pilots jumped out of the vans and quickly began to scurry around performing the necessary preflight procedures. It quickly became apparent that we would be flying in the monstrous, ugly, orange-colored machine. At a later point, Rafee, one of the pilots, told me that they will only be able to use the old Soviet helicopters for a maximum of another two years. No more spare parts are available, and no one is making any parts for repairs or maintenance. I only hoped they had been diligent in their maintenance up to the present. 

Once I had satisfied my photo cravings to preserve in pictures the rare sight, I climbed on board the Russian-made bird. As I entered I looked up at the turbo engine that powered the Mi-8 chopper and noticed areas of fresh oil from the engine compartment on top that had run down over the old, oxidized paint. I prayed a brief prayer for protection as I found myself inside the padded cargo area. The seats were in a configuration around a command table in the center of the helicopter’s belly. Lady Cox went up and mingled with the pilots while the rest of our team slithered into the available seats. Zori sat at the head of the conference table, where I suppose he was most used to sitting. In Nagorno-Karabakh, the military people still refer to him as Commissar. 

It took a while to warm the engines up to operating requirements. As the massive blades on top began to rotate, the helicopter began to vibrate. The more I convinced myself to relax and enjoy the experience, the more the severe vibration made my teeth chatter. I decided it was better to be a little tense. 

The severity of the shaking intensified a great deal more as the giant bird tried to lift itself off the ground. But suddenly we reached the necessary height, and the nose of the chopper tilted forward. Immediately the long blades on top began to bite into the air ahead of us, and we took off like a shot. In no time at all, we were traveling not only up but ahead at terrific speed. It was a sensation and thrill I will not soon forget. 

In only minutes we were flying over very rough terrain and between steep mountain peaks to gain the necessary altitude required for our trip from Yerevan, Armenia, to Stepanakert, Nagorno-Karabakh. I was sitting close to a round porthole window and had a perfect view of the terrain below. I spotted a narrow, winding road below, the alternative passageway to Stepanakert for those not fortunate enough to have a helicopter available to them. Some recent repairs applied to the roadway cut about four hours off the regular travel time. Now it only takes ten to fourteen hours to make the journey. We would cover the same distance in about an hour and fifteen minutes. 

No more than twenty minutes into our flight, I began to observe the ravages of the destructive war. I didn’t know then that I was being introduced to emotions and insights that would change my life forever. Having been born just before the United States was plunged into the Second World War, I had seen plenty of pictures and newscasts of the devastation of war. I remembered the pictures of the Korean War and the Vietnam War, and I had subsequently visited all those war sites in my travels. I had also been up close and had personally seen the results of African tribal wars as they were taking place. But before Armenia and Nagorno-Karabakh, I had never been to a war zone on the front lines and felt the impact of loss and the devastation caused by modern weapons of mass destruction.

As I gazed from the windows of the chopper, I began to see whole villages where every building had been blown apart. Trees were uprooted, orchards were burned, and bones of livestock were still strewn in the abandoned farmyards. 

Mile after mile along the once-closed corridor between Armenia and Nagorno-Karabakh, nothing moved. Towns were totally obliterated. All was silent and left to ruin where families once lived in community, children had played, and old women had gathered to gossip. Now all was silent. 

Next Week: Meager accommodations

© Dr. James W. Jackson   

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Journal Highlights: Roads I Have Traveled ... Excerpt #1 Nagorno-Karabakh, 1998

Nagorno-Karabakh: August, 1998: Baroness Caroline Cox, the Deputy Speaker of Parliament’s House of Lords in London is the international head of the English-registered charity, and Stuart Windsor is the United Kingdom’s national director. They had requested the help of Project C.U.R.E. in Nagorno-Karabakh, a little-known but terribly distressed area of the old Soviet Union. 

As far back as AD 340, the Armenians can trace their Christian religious heritage through church buildings and monasteries located throughout the region of Nagorno-Karabakh. From the early 1900s to 1916, the Turks employed radical methods of ethnic cleansing and genocide against the Armenians in Turkey. Those activities all but eliminated the Armenian population from Turkey. Likewise, in 1905 Azerbaijan chose to eliminate the minority population of Armenian Christians from their country. In addition to the tens of thousands of Armenian Christians killed in Azerbaijan, over half a million more fled the country as homeless refugees. In 1919 and 1920, the Turkish and Azerbaijani military forces took land masses for their own that once belonged to the Nagorno-Karabakh Armenians. More ethnic cleansing of the Armenians followed. During the late 1920s and early 1930s, Joseph Stalin tired of the continual tribal fighting within his Soviet Union. He thereupon arbitrarily and capriciously declared the Armenian region of Karabakh part of Azerbaijan. Stalin paid no attention to the fact that there was neither moral nor historic nor ethnic reasoning behind his action to give Nagorno-Karabakh to the Azerbaijanis. He didn’t need a reason; he was Stalin the Supreme. He totally cut off the Armenian enclave of Nagorno-Karabakh from the geographical borders of Armenia. He also destroyed or closed down all monasteries and churches from that time on. 

As the Soviet system began to weaken by 1988, the people of Nagorno-Karabakh voted to secede from Azerbaijan. On December 10, 1991, they passed a referendum for independence and freedom. Azerbaijan’s answer was to impose a harsh and effective blockade around Nagorno-Karabakh, completely cutting off food supplies and travel from the rest of the world. Further, Turkey joined in Azerbaijan’s punitive efforts against the ethnic Armenians in both Armenia and Nagorno-Karabakh by imposing a choking embargo and total blockade around Armenia. They simply hoped to starve out the Armenian Christians. 

Moscow’s Soviet authorities then joined in the fray and once again declared Nagorno-Karabakh under the jurisdiction of Azerbaijan. The Armenians in Nagorno-Karabakh sensed the seriousness the looming death sentence. They endeavored to reopen a route to connect them once again with Armenia. The Soviet Fourth Army joined forces with the Azerbaijani and the Turkish troops and attacked Nagorno-Karabakh with tanks, armored personnel carriers and helicopters. In the early fall of 1991, the joint armies made their intentions known to annul Nagorno-Karabakh’s declaration of independence and autonomy and rename its capital city, giving it a Turkish name. 

Somehow the Nagorno-Karabakh forces were able to fend off not only the army of Azerbaijan but Soviet and Turkish forces as well. As all-out war raged, the idea of genocide in Karabakh grew as a final goal in the minds of the leaders of Azerbaijan. Former Azerbaijani president Abulfaz Elchibey pronounced in June 1992 that if there were still Armenians in Nagorno-Karabakh by October of 1992, the people of Azerbaijan could hang him in the central square of Baku, the nation’s capital. Now, President Aliyev has been reported as saying that the only solution to the problem is the elimination of all Armenians in Nagorno-Karabakh. 

Eventually, against all odds, the Armenians of Nagorno-Karabakh were able to recapture the town of Shushi and open, once again, a corridor to Armenia through Lachin. However, it was accomplished at an incredibly high price of bloodshed and loss of life. The Karabakhi loss was not limited to just the soldiers; thousands of women and children became the express targets of the Azerbaijanis, Turks, and Soviets. Today, the blockade could once again be imposed even though a fragile cease-fire is being somewhat honored. 

Thursday, August 13, I arrived from Denver at London Heathrow Airport. At 5:00 p.m., I was able to meet up with the other team members I will be traveling with to Nagorno-Karabakh. Lady Caroline Cox is the excursion leader. During the terrible war years in Nagorno-Karabakh between 1990 and 1994, she went at least once a month and rode with the helicopter pilots as they flew the dead and wounded out of Stepanakert, Nagorno-Karabakh, across the blockaded corridor into Yerevan, Armenia.

The people of Armenia and Nagorno-Karabakh view her as a hero for her work in bringing supplies and aid to the Armenians, as well as standing boldly before British Parliament. 

Stuart Windsor, a retired British military chaplain who lives in New Malden, Surrey, England, is the UK national director. Stuart went many times to the front lines of the war and prayed with the Armenian soldiers and held the heads of the dying men. Stuart and his wife, Ethel, will also join us on our trip from London as well as a team of five doctors from US and UK. 

It was a five-hour flight from London Heathrow to Tbilisi, Georgia, south of Russia on the Black Sea. Our delegation took British Airways flight 6711 to Tbilisi and then continued on with British Airways to Yerevan, Armenia, arriving at about 8:30 this morning. As soon as the luggage was collected and we cleared customs, we took vans directly to the Armenian hotel in downtown Yerevan where we will be staying. 

Next Week: From Yerevan into war-torn Stepanakert

© Dr. James W. Jackson   

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Journal Highlights: Roads I Have Traveled ... Excerpt #1 1998, Introduction to Baroness Cox Deputy Speaker of the House of Lords

Note: I want to share with you a bit of the life of one of my very dear friends from England. Baroness Caroline Cox is one of my heroes. This short introduction is taken from my soon-to-be-released book, “Better Off: Rediscovering the American Experiment.” In the weeks that follow, the JOURNAL HIGHLIGHTS series will include excerpts from my actual journals that cover our work together in the little country of Nagorno- Karabakh Keep an eye open for the new book release.

One Tough and Compassionate Lady
When it comes to personifying the economics of the interior, I don’t believe there is any finer example in our contemporary era than Baroness Caroline Cox. 

Caroline Cox became a registered nurse in the 1950s and met her future husband, Murray, while working at a London hospital. After marrying and starting a family, Caroline earned a first-class honors degree in sociology at the University of London and a master’s degree in economics. She went on to write several books on nursing and teach sociology at a London university, where she collided head-on with academic elites who forced their Marxist views on the students. 

After enduring years of their intimidation, she coauthored The Rape of Reason, which courageously exposed their warped beliefs at a time when standing for democratic ideals was extremely unpopular. In 1977, Caroline embraced a new challenge as the director of nursing education research at Chelsea College, University of London. 

Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher was so impressed with Caroline’s indomitable spirit, high energy, and brilliant work that she exerted her considerable influence to see Caroline become Baroness Cox of Queensbury and a life peer in the House of Lords in January of 1983. Lady Cox became Deputy Speaker of the House of Lords in 1985 and served in that position until 2005. 

What did Baroness Caroline Cox do with her new title and position of influence? 

Instead of just parking herself on the red leather benches in the gilded chamber of the House of Lords, Baroness Cox began using the precious assets in her market basket to help other people become better off. Penetrating the Iron Curtain of the Soviet Union, she risked her life to deliver load after load of desperately needed humanitarian goods to Communist Poland, Romania, and Armenia. 

Lady Cox also sought to help the people of Nagorno-Karabakh. Mass murderer Joseph Stalin had arbitrarily separated the small country from its motherland, Armenia, and had given it to Azerbaijan to placate the violent Muslim extremists. Eventually Azerbaijan, Turkey, and Russia embarked on a plan of ethnic cleansing that would systematically annihilate the inhabitants of Nagorno-Karabakh. Baroness Cox stood up in the House of Lords and brought the situation to the attention of Parliament and the world. No one else seemed to care … except Baroness Caroline Cox. But Lady Cox didn’t just talk about the situation; she sprang into action. She traveled to Yerevan, Armenia, climbed into a military helicopter, and flew into the war-torn enclave of Nagorno-Karabakh to help evacuate the wounded and dying. Her nurse’s training also equipped her to provide essential medical care to the evacuees. 

I first met Baroness Cox in 1997 when she and her executive assistant, Stuart Windsor, came to Colorado to get better acquainted with Project C.U.R.E. After learning about our international experience, they had determined that we were the best organization to help them with their humanitarian work in Nagorno-Karabakh. 

I joined the baroness on her thirty-ninth trip to the decimated country, where I learned that she had once walked directly through the line of weapon fire, waving a white tablecloth attached to a branch, and crossed the Azerbaijan border to personally confront the Muslim thugs who had been murdering the Karabakh inhabitants and torching their homes. She was determined to meet these thugs face-to-face so they would take her seriously. They soon learned that Caroline Cox was one tough lady! 

Over the years her compassionate endeavors have led her into many zones of conflict throughout the world, including Sudan, Nigeria, Uganda, Myanmar (Burma), and Indonesia. She even injected goodness into the former Soviet Federation, helping government officials change their policies on orphaned and abandoned children and establish a foster-care system that would place children in families rather than institutions. (I would enthusiastically encourage you to read Andrew Boyd’s book Baroness Cox: A Voice for the Voiceless, which chronicles Lady Cox’s inspiring life story and the magnificent humanitarian work she has been involved in.) 

Baroness Cox has received many international awards for her humanitarian work, including the Commander’s Cross of the Order of Merit of the Republic of Poland; the prestigious Wilberforce Award; the international Mother Teresa Award; the Mkhitar Gosh medal conferred by the president of the Republic of Armenia; the anniversary medal presented by Lech Walesa, former president of Poland; and an honorary fellowship of the Royal College of Physicians in London, England. 

After all these years, Lady Caroline Cox is still investing her life, her unique abilities, and her influential position to spread goodness around the globe. She’s a classic example of how just one person, guided by the economics of the interior, can help others become better off. 

Next Week: Connecting with Project C.U.R.E.

© Dr. James W. Jackson   

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Journal Highlights: Roads I Have Traveled ... Excerpt #5 Ukraine and Atlanta January 1997

(continued): Ukraine/Atlanta: January, 1997): After sharing some other more generalized observations of international health-care systems, I began to describe the unique role Project C.U.R.E. plays in providing donated health-care products to newly developing countries around the world. I explained how we are presently shipping medical goods to over forty different countries. Then I related to them the way Pro­ject C.U.R.E. got started and a bit of its colorful history. The group was fun to talk to because of the extreme diversity of the individuals, combining the Ukrainian delegation with the board of directors of the Association of American Physicians and Surgeons (AAPS) resulted in a very interesting mix. 

While I was talking, one of the AAPS board members raised his hand. I stopped and acknowledged him; then he asked, “Mr. Jackson, just why are you doing what you are doing, and why are you here helping the Ukrainians rewrite their laws?” Dr. Ballantyne, who is famil­iar with my past, just looked at me and grinned. I knew he was wondering just how I was going to handle the question.

I began to tell them what a dramatic difference God had made in my life—how he had changed me from a person who was totally consumed with accumulating wealth for myself to a person devoted to sharing God’s love by helping hurting people around the world. As I glanced across the room, I saw Dr. Raisa Burchak, the wife of Dr. Fedir Burchak, the legal advisor and personal confidant of the president of the Ukraine. She had her lace handkerchief out and was crying. Perhaps it was the first time she had ever heard about the transforming grace of God.

I finished my part of the speaking agenda by challenging everyone there to consider moving from a personal position of success to a position of significance in their lives:“Do some­thing significant that will last forever.”

After the session, Dr. Fedir Burchak and Raisa came up to me and hugged me. Dr. Raisa said, “I learned many things during these hours, but perhaps the greatest thing I learned I learned from your heart.”

Sunday, January 12

It is necessary for me to return to Denver early, so I will be unable to personally say good‑bye to my new friends from the Ukraine when they board their flight for their return trip. But as I left the symposium and boarded my plane to fly home to Denver, I had to stop and thank God for allowing me to be a small part of such a historic occasion.

Who would have ever believed on December 17 that all the necessary elements for success would have come together in such a short time and allowed us to actually organize, offer, and present this economic symposium?

I don’t know at the moment how the newly proposed health-care laws will be accepted in the Ukrain­ian Parliament, but I rest in the fact that when Dr. Mark Johnson and I saw the need to help, we were able to respond in instant and complete obedience. I will always hold as extremely valuable the memory of how God blessed our simple efforts to help and brought together all the correct people in such a short span of time, and did it in a way that brought honor to God and dignity to the efforts. 

© Dr. James W. Jackson   

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Journal Highlights: Roads I Have Traveled ... Excerpt #4 Ukraine & Atlanta 1997

(continued): Ukraine/Atlanta: January, 1997: Nowhere else could they have accessed the information, intelligence, and experience available to them in Atlanta this weekend. And perhaps most important, they are experiencing the gift of love and concern for the people of Ukraine and their future. They have been, for the most part, responding with appreciation; however, each has lived an entire lifetime under the old, centralized Soviet system, and occasionally I could see that it is difficult for them to break from the “security” of that system.

Dr. Mark Litow, the actuarial consultant, used his time to identify and explain some of the strengths and weaknesses of the US health-care system. He spoke of the types of systems involved and the six distinct market groups receiving health care in the US. He pointed out how, as the US has moved toward a more socialized, centralized health-care system, we have increasingly been pushed further and further into debt. Today half of the US deficit is caused by Medicare alone. He suggested three desirable elements to be included in health-care reform:

1. Reasonable cost

2. High quality

3. Access to treatment

Dr. Litow used a lot of charts and overhead projections to simplify the understanding of his facts. For the largest portion of his time, he presented concepts he feels are necessary for the reform process and package.

The openness of the meeting made it conducive for the Ukrainian delegation to freely discuss their present health-care system. They revealed that in 1985, the equivalent of US$180 was allocated per person per year for health care in the Ukraine out of the government budget. In 1994 it dropped to only $16 per person per year. Now the system has completely collapsed, and the state is completely irresponsible. They have eliminated over sixty thousand beds from hospitals throughout the system, and their doctors have not received their government paychecks (only the equivalent of US$50 per month) for four or five months.

The situation has made criminals out of nearly every doctor, since doctors are now forced to treat patients privately (from their back doors or in some secret place) in order to try to generate some cash on which to live. Presently such activity is punishable by imprisonment. The situation has presented the entire country with a huge moral problem. The state simply cannot come up with the necessary $1.8 billion to provide medical care for the people this year.

As we broke for the dinner hour, a whole lot of frustration was evident, but what had been presented to the delegation was making sense, and comments were indicating hope and the possibility of workable ideas.

Following dinner we combined the Ukrainian delegation, all of our presenters, and the board of directors of the Association of American Physicians and Surgeons (AAPS) for our final session of the day. I was chosen to speak during the first half of the session. The final portion would include a round-table discussion in which the Ukrainians would explain their present system and situation, and the entire group could ask questions or offer insights.

I had thought about what I was going to say for several days and had also used the flight time from Denver to Atlanta as an opportunity to crystallize my thoughts. I did not want to denigrate the Ukrainian health-care system and exclusively emphasize their problems. So I decided to share with the whole group some of the observations I had made in my hospital Needs Assessment Studies around the world. The Ukrainian delegation could readily identify with each of the problems, but I wouldn’t be pointing my finger directly at them. I titled my presentation “International Health-Care Observations.”

I am continuously crisscrossing the avenues of a bankrupt portion of the world, viewing the aftermath of the great social experiment of the past eighty years. It promised everything and ultimately delivered nothing. Why? Because you can only pursue the philosophy of redistribution for a limited period of time. After you have stripped the treasure chests of accumulated wealth from a nation and wasted it without any plan to replenish the coffers, it becomes impossible to redivide and redistribute “nothing.” That sort of set the groundwork in my presentation for the following observations:

1. In theory, you can argue that a centralized health-care delivery system has the advantage of efficiency, but lost-opportunity costs are unacceptably high. In my bookWhat’cha Gonna Do with What’cha Got?, I tried to explain the economic principles of scarcity, choice, and cost. Items are scarce because they have two or more alternative uses, but eventually you must choose one of the alternatives. The next highest valued other thing or other use you give up is the real opportunity “cost” of what was chosen, because you have to do without that. In North Korea, the health-care system is very centralized and very regimented. It appears to be efficient, but the rigidity of the system disallows any creative or altered approach to a medical procedure. The lost-opportunity costs are very high. 

2. A centralized health-care system does not allow for keeping pace with medical discoveries and new technologies. Example: The head doctor in one of Cuba’s largest hospitals begged me to bring in new medical procedural and research books. “We are so restricted,” he said, “we don’t even know current medicine.”

3. Health care that is freely available to all is the same as equally unavailable to each. Example: In Brazil and Peru, I saw people coming to a clinic in ox carts, in old buses, or on foot. They would stand in line all day only to have to return the next day and get back into line because they were unable to receive help.

4. A centralized health-care system produces overspecialization and undertraining in general family medicine. Example: In Uzbekistan, a young doctor told me, “I am trained to remove gallbladders. I don’t have to be responsible for anything else.” One man in Moscow told me, “I’m sorry the hallway is completely dark, but the man who is trained to change lightbulbs doesn’t work anymore, so we are in the dark now. I don’t change lightbulbs.”

5. In a centralized health-care system, there is a built‑in disincentive to take any risks or make any decisions to do anything new. Example: In Minsk, Belarus, I watched a medical team in a burn unit just stand and watch rather than deviating from the standard care procedure. In a centralized system, there is no way to experience a reward for doing something new or different, but there is almost a certain possibility of experiencing loss for trying something different.

6. When a centralized health-care system controls a single source of medical supplies and goods, the level of quality usually suffers, and the delivery system for those goods becomes inadequate. Many of the hospitals I visit around the world experience the same thing. Example: Doctors often tell me, “Mr. Jackson, we have not been able to get the medical supplies we need for several years now.”

7. A centralized medical system can seldom get the cost-versus-value ratio correct.Example: In countries where the value of the health care given is greater than the individual cost paid, people use too much health care. Long lines form, and the people who really need the care are excluded because of the long lines. If the cost charged is greater than the value received, then no one can afford the health-care services.

8. Hospital stays are longer where there is a centralized health-care system.Example: In Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan, it is not unusual for a patient who has experienced a heart attack to stay in the hospital seven or eight weeks. The hospital receives its budget allocation based on the number of patient days. There is no incentive for the patient to be sent home earlier.

After sharing some other more generalized observations of international health-care systems, I began to describe the unique role Project C.U.R.E. plays in providing donated health-care products to newly developing countries around the world.

Next Week: Change in more than health care.

© Dr. James W. Jackson 

Permissions granted by Winston-Crown Publishing House 

Journal Highlights: Roads I Have Traveled ... Excerpt #3 Ukraine and Atlanta, 1997

(continued): Ukraine/Atlanta: January, 1997: Dr. Mark not only got the right Ukrainians lined up to make the trip—even on such short notice—but was also able to raise almost $7,500 in twenty-four hours to cover the airline tickets from Kiev to Atlanta. In addition to Dr. Ballantyne, we were able to secure Dr. Michael Tanner of the Cato Institute, a prestigious, conservative think‑tank organization from Washington, D.C., and Mark Litow, a consulting actuary from Milliman and Robertson in Brookfield, Wisconsin. We are going to have a powerhouse symposium!

Dr. Mark was relentless on the phone, and I was tempted to buy some stock in AT&T as I watched his international telephone bill escalate. But everyone was amazingly available, and all the speaking participants were willing to come and charge no fee at all!

Friday, January 10

I arrived in Atlanta about 3:00 this afternoon and checked into the Sheraton Gateway Hotel. Before long the rest of the group began arriving. Our chosen group from the Ukraine includes Dr. Fedir G. Burchak, head of the Committee for Legislative Initiatives and the personal confidant of and legal advisor to the president of the Ukraine. Accompanying Dr. Burchak is his wife, Raisa, a very intelligent Ukrainian lady and editor for an encyclopedia company. Also attending the symposium are Dr. Alexander Korotko, the deputy minister of health for economic affairs, and Dr. V. G. Nicolaev from the R. E. Kavetsky Institute of Experimental Pathology, Oncology, and Radiobiology. He is also head of the academy of artificial organs and biomedical engineering as well as a member of the board of directors for the National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine. Additionally, there are three Ukrainian translators.

The speakers for the symposium include Dr. Paul Ballantyne, head of the economics department of the University of Colorado, Colorado Springs; Dr. Michael Tanner of the Cato Institute, Washington, D.C.; Dr. Mark Litow, consulting actuary for Milliman and Robertson in Wisconsin; Dr. Miguel Faria, editor of the Medical Sentinel and author of Vandals at the Gates of Medicine; and yours truly, Dr. James W. Jackson, representing Project C.U.R.E.

It is absolutely a miracle to have arranged for all these important people to get together in one place in the world. It is an even greater miracle to have gotten them all together on such short notice. Who would have dared to think it was possible.

Saturday, January 11

This morning we all met together and hit the ground running. Tape recorders were set up to capture the audio portion of the symposium.

Dr. Ballantyne had the responsibility of handling the first session of the symposium. His assignment was to explain the basic principles of economics in terms that can not only be understood but can also be conveyed to members of the Ukrainian Parliament. It will probably be the first time anyone has ever taken the time to explain the basic concepts of free-market capitalism to the Ukrainian delegation.

I was so confident of Dr. Ballantyne’s ability to share the simple, basic rudiments of economics that I found myself relaxing and thoroughly enjoying the presentation. He began by talking about wealth versus poverty and the importance of production factors like land, labor, capital, and the entrepreneur. He explained the gross domestic product (GDP) concept and asked why it is possible for the United States to produce $25,000 per person per year in output while the Ukraine produces only $1,600 per person per year. He went on to explain how the market system works as it does and how people benefit through voluntary exchanges.

He then explained the economic trilogy of scarcity, choice, and cost and drew a graphic of the supply-demand curve, discussing how to determine “just the right price” for a commodity or service. Dr. Ballantyne, as usual, was nothing less than brilliant in his presentation. He has always had the ability to take complex concepts and make them extremely easy to understand and remember.

When Dr. Ballantyne finished laying the economic foundation for the free market system, Dr. Michael Tanner took over. He began to slowly build on the foundation Dr. Ballantyne had formed. I could see where he was going and chuckled inside. He methodically presented the concepts of health care as they relate to basic economics. He explained logically why long lines of people wait in the Ukraine to receive health care. He also showed with simple economic graphs why their system pushes people into criminal activities on the black market. He then presented the three necessary elements of a successful health-care delivery systems: (1) the recognition of the self‑interest factor, (2) the need for encouraging competition, and (3) the absolute necessity of including and honoring freedom of choice. He pleaded with them to allow into their new health-care system the right for patients to legally contract with the doctors of their choice so that there would be an accountable relationship established between the doctor and the patient rather than the doctor and the government, which would ultimately leave out the consideration of the patient. 

Dr. Tanner recommended the inclusion of three main elements in the new Ukrainian health-care system:

1. Ensure the right of contract between the patient and the doctor. 

2. Reform how payment is made (i.e., have the patient pay the doctor rather than having the government paying the doctor). 

3. Develop some rational formula for the people to purchase adequate health care.

By that time the Ukrainians were really beginning to understand the benefits of a free-market-system approach to health-care delivery. Dr. Tanner carefully explained the formula Va (actual value) and Vi (value to the individual) = C (cost). When both values (Va and Vi) are equal to the cost, the patient will purchase the optimal health care available. The Va (actual value) could be zero if the Vi (value to the individual) is equal to the cost. For example, if the doctor is very pretty, you may pay for the visit even if there is no actual medical value to you at all. The big problem is when the Va and Vi are greater than the cost, which encourages people to use too much health care. Then the people who really need the health care will be excluded because of the long waiting lines to see the doctor.

Dr. Tanner told them that when the formula for health care has to be reformed, there are really only three ways to do it:

1. The traditional way: The government intervenes and rations health care (e.g., “You can only see the doctor once a month.”) 

2. Managed care: The insurance company steps in and says, “You can only come in and see the doctor once a month.” 

3. Cost Increases: Take the control away from the government or the insurance company to arbitrarily increase the cost and allow the individual patient to pay with his or her own money for the cost of the service.

Several times the speakers cautioned the Ukrainians not to design their new health-care system after the current US system. The Ukrainians agreed. They had already proven that the centralized system of more government does not and cannot work over the long term. That’s why they are now demanding free-enterprise reform.

Dr. Tanner then patiently taught the group the concepts of insurance. The Ukrainians quickly agreed that they had been thinking of insurance as simply another way to prepay and finance their old centralized government system rather than seeing it as a way to spread out the risk among many people. The Ukraini­ans said they would have used insurance funds to cover known and routine problems rather than uncertain eventualities.

In recapping his session, Dr. Tanner encouraged the inclusion of four factors in the new re­form:

1. Link all the monies for payment of health care in some way to the patient. 

2. Allow patients the freedom to establish a contract with the doctor of their choice. 

3. For routine care and voluntary care, raise the cost of treatment and have the individual pay for part of it. 

4. Develop a private insurance market for spreading out the risk among a large number of people for high cost and nonroutine procedures.

By the time Drs. Ballantyne and Tanner were through with their first sessions, the concepts they had presented were making a world of dif­ference in the minds of the Ukrainian delegation. They began asking questions about the possibilities of including the creation of medical savings accounts for individuals and families. 

Next Week: Changing a nation's health care system. 

© Dr. James W. Jackson   

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Journal Highlights: Roads I Have Traveled ... Excerpt #2 Ukraine & Atlanta, 1997

(continued): Ukraine/Atlanta: January, 1997: As soon as Mark returned to the USA, he called me and we talked. Who could help us? How would we get everyone together? Where would the money come from to finance such a project? It was the holidays; would anyone be available to get together on such short notice?

Everything had to be finalized for presentation to the Ukrainian Parliament in about thirty days. Would it be feasible to bring a group of the top Ukrainian leaders to the US for a symposium? We would have to do a crash course for them in basic democratic, capitalistic, free-market economics and make sure they understood the concepts well enough to debate them on the floor of parliament. A majority of the members would have to understand and buy into a new paradigm of economic thinking. It is one thing to talk about freedom. It is quite another thing to allow the consequences of freedom to move in and upset cultural institutions that have been established for many years. No other republic of the old Soviet system has ever been so bold.

But even if the Ukrainians overcame the boldness factor, they were faced with the awesome reality of logistics and implementation.

As Mark and I talked, we began to get excited about the historic possibilities of such an undertaking. We both encouraged each other and caught ourselves saying, “Let’s go for it.” If we could help implement the free-market changes into Ukrainian medical law, perhaps we could use the model to influence other former Soviet republics.

I had personally met many of the ministers of health from other Eastern European and Central Asian countries. Maybe we could just roll an adopted Ukrainian medical-law package right over into the other republics. It suddenly became a challenge worthy of our focus and efforts. With God’s help we would “go for it.”

Mark got busy working with Edward Gluschenko in Kiev on choosing the appropriate Ukrainian leaders to bring to the US. A national board of directors meeting of the Association of American Physicians and Surgeons (AAPS) was to be held in Atlanta, Georgia, January 11–13, 1997. The board offered to let us utilize some of their conference space at the Sheraton Gateway Hotel near the airport in Atlanta. They encouraged us in our efforts and pledged to assist in any way they could.

I got busy on the economists. We really needed at least one heavy hitter with the recognized economic credentials. Immediately a person came to my mind: Dr. Paul Ballantyne, head of the economics department at the University of Colorado (CU) in Colorado Springs. He was my economics professor for several graduate courses I had taken at CU in the early 1980s. I have found him to be a wonderfully devoted Christian gentleman, and we have developed a warm friendship over the years. He encouraged me to become part of the Colorado Council on Economic Education and furthermore had offered his advice and helped proof my original manuscript for my gold award winning book What’cha Gonna Do with What’cha Got?

Dr. Ballantyne is also a good friend with internationally famous Dr. Michael Novak, author of many economics books, including The Spirit of Democratic Capitalism. He had introduced me to Dr. Novak at an economic conference held in Vail, Colorado, in the mid‑1980s. If Dr. Ballantyne wasn’t available for our meeting with the Ukrainians, perhaps he could persuade Michael Novak to have mercy on us.

I had lost Dr. Ballantyne’s home phone number, and the university was on Christmas break, so I contacted the folks at the Colorado Council on Economic Education and finally weaseled the number out of them. When I reached Dr. Ballantyne, he and his wife were just on their way out the door to spend Christmas with their son and his family. I barely caught him.

In as short a time as possible, I tried to tell him about my involvement with the Ukraine and about Project C.U.R.E.’s humanitarian, spiritual, and economic mission. He quietly listened as I painted the picture of how I terribly and undeservedly needed his help, even though I knew there was really no reason for me to be optimistic about his assistance. I explained how I needed a real expert who could quickly and convincingly present the fundamentals of Adam Smith and free-market economics to a bunch of ex‑Marxists who are desiring to reform their health-care system.

When I shut up, he nearly knocked the phone out of my hand with his reply: “Jim, how very interesting that you would call. I have thought of you many times and wondered if you are still working with the Brazilian government on their debt repayments. Let me quickly bring you up to date on what I have been doing in addition to my work at the University of Colorado. I have been teaching free-market, democratic capitalism courses at Sumy State University in the Ukraine. In fact, my wife has been accompanying me and teaching English courses at the university using the Bible as her English textbook. We’ve had some absolutely wonderful opportunities to witness for Christ, and one family over there has adopted us and made us the godparents of their children.

“I would be pleased to help you in your efforts to aid the Ukraine, and I have the dates of January 9–12 open and available between my CU class schedule. Now I’d better run, or I’ll miss my plane to celebrate Christmas with my son and his family. Here’s my son’s phone number; let’s talk about the details.”

I hung up the phone and cried.

Continued Next Week: Historic Conference in Atlanta

© Dr. James W. Jackson

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Journal Highlights: Roads I Have Traveled ... Excerpt #1 Ukraine 1997

(Note: These following Journal entries represent one of the finest episodes of the early life of Project C.U.R.E. We happened to be at the right place at the right time to providentially influence the scope and sequence of change in the health care delivery system in the country of Ukraine. Later, those seeds of change lapped over to influence change in other countries of the old Soviet Federation. My heart is again warmed as I share these journal entries with you. JWJ).

Ukraine: January 10, 1997:

Earlier in these writings, I chronicled the details of our involvement in the remarkable republic of Ukraine that had been a part of the former Soviet Union. Project C.U.R.E. had shipped literally millions of dollars’ worth of medical supplies to the cities of Vinnitsa and Kiev, Ukraine. In fact, Project C.U.R.E. had donated and shipped over eighteen tons of medical library books to the National Pirogov Memorial Medical University in Vinnitsa. The institution can now boast of having the finest English-language medical library in all of Eastern Europe.

I had the opportunity of meeting many of the high-ranking government officials in the Ukraine and toured a high percentage of their medical facilities while conducting our Needs Assessment Studies.

I returned to the old Soviet Union and the Ukraine in September of 1996, accompanied by Dr. Brian McMurray, Dr. Mark Johnson, and several other wonderful people from the Nashville, Tennessee, area. The trip was very successful, and Project C.U.R.E. followed up the visit by sending another approximately $750,000 worth of desperately needed supplies to the Ukrainian hospitals. I thoroughly enjoyed being with Dr. Brian McMurray. He and his wife became Christians only about a year prior to our trip. His high energy level and enthusiasm for doing something for God and helping the needy people in the Ukraine was contagious. It was refreshing to just be around him and watch his excitement focused on the medical needs of Vinnitsa.

But I was equally impressed with the young Dr. Mark Johnson. He was in his mid-thirties and had already gained a great deal of respect in the medical community as a urologist. It was Mark’s first venture away from the sophisticated hospitals of Nashville and the Vanderbilt medical community.

I will never forget as long as I live Dr. Mark’s first encounter with the university people the day he arrived in Vinnitsa. He had procured and taken along with him some state-of-the-art urology probes and scopes for bladder, prostate, and kidney procedures. His intent was to train the medical-university surgeons and professors in advanced urology techniques and then leave the high‑tech instruments with them. They would be the first in the whole area of the old Soviet Union to be trained in how to use the equipment and perform the procedures.

When Dr. Mark arrived to meet with the department leaders at the university, he discovered that there was no interpreter to translate the doctors’ Russian into English or his English into Russian. But true to his young American ingenuity, Dr. Mark never let the mishap throw him off beat for one minute. He simply unpacked all his urology equipment and medications, pulled out a large piece of clean paper, and began to draw pictures for the university doctors. After he had completed his masterpiece on the human anatomy, he began writing labels in English on all the appropriate body parts. When finished, he pushed the pictures over to the Ukrainians and motioned for them to label all the pictures in Russian. Next, they practiced saying the names of the body parts in both English and Russian. Equipped with pictures, urology instruments, and the names of body parts, Dr. Mark then proceeded to explain and illustrate the use of the new probes and scopes.

The Ukrainians were absolutely delighted, especially when they realized that Dr. Mark had brought all the equipment for them to keep and use.

After Dr. Mark had spent the entire day with the Ukrainian doctors, they took him to dinner to celebrate their new friendship. Fortunately, by that time the interpreter had caught up with them, and things went a lot easier. At dinner, with the aid of the interpreter, Dr. Mark gave the Ukrainian doctors an explanation of why he had come all the way from America to be with them. He explained what Jesus Christ had done in his life and how he had changed the lives of his entire family and their lifestyle. Now he was there to share Christ’s love and concern with them. 

The doctors arranged for Dr. Mark to operate on some of their patients the next morning. He was able to demonstrate the urology equipment and explain the latest medical procedures. I went into the operating room while Dr. Mark was doing the procedures. They had given him Russian operating scrubs and a tall stovepipe baker’s hat worn by the surgeons. I must admit, it was one of the proudest days of my life with Project C.U.R.E. What was taking place halfway around the world from Denver, Colorado, and Nashville, Tennessee, had to be making God smile.

The day after Thanksgiving, Dr. Mark Johnson and Dr. Brian McMurray went back to Vinnitsa and held free clinics at a Russian Orthodox church, a Pentecostal church, and several of the Baptist churches in the area. On that trip they each took with them their eleven- and twelve‑year‑old daughters. Their entire families were now locked into sharing the love of God through medicine with people they had never even known existed two years before.

While returning to the airport in Kiev for the flight back to the USA, Dr. Mark asked Edward Gluschenko, our English-speaking liaison in Ukraine, what we could do for them that would be uniquely helpful. Edward explained that the Ukrainian legislature was in the process of determining the direction of the health-care industry in their new republic. In the past, Ukrainian medical philosophies and practices had been sternly dictated by the Soviet designers in Moscow, as in all the other republics. Ukraine’s health-care delivery system was rigidly centralized. Doctors and other medical personnel were simply workers of the state assigned to take care of the sick people of the Soviet Union. There was no invitation for creativity and no tolerance for deviation from mandated procedures.

Now, with the collapse of the Soviet regime, Ukraine was facing a historic opportunity for change. Now was the time to change the philosophical direction of health care for the first time ever. Edward explained to Mark the desire to take full advantage of the fortuitous timing and build into the new system some basic cornerstones of free market, non-centralized medicine. The new laws were to be voted on by parliament in late January or early February of 1997. Those new laws would set the direction for the future of the medical profession.

The only problem was that no one in the Ukraine knew enough about free-enterprise economics to even begin to formulate the concepts, let alone articulate in a written proposal to the legislature the articles expected to be voted into the new law of the land. Edward asked if Dr. Mark might know of anyone who might be able to help them at this juncture.

Continued Next Week: A Bold and Crazy Plan

© Dr. James W. Jackson   

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Journal Highlights: Roads I Have Traveled ... Excerpt #8, June 2002

Thursday, June 13th

(continued): Israel, West Bank, Ramallah: June 6-14, 2002: At about 3:45 Thursday morning I woke up to the cleric’s call to prayer from the Muslim mosque. When I heard it, I started chuckling out loud. The episode that was playing through my head was another Muslim cleric wailing another early morning call to prayer. It was in the village of Diorbivol out in the Saharan Desert along the Senegalese River in the West African country of Senegal. I was laying on a woven straw mat listening to the call to prayer. Just on the other side of a fence from me was a scrawny rooster who had given up trying to wake up the sun and had gone to mimicking the cleric on the top of the tower with the loudspeaker. Perhaps it was the funniest thing I had ever heard. 

Thursday morning I wasn’t in Senegal. I was in Ramallah, West Bank. I couldn’t help laughing. Part of the laugh was from recalling the psychotic old rooster, the other part from the unspeakable joy I felt knowing that the tanks were leaving Ramallah, meaning I would be free to leave. 

We called a taxi and even before breakfast, Mohamed and I made our way through the torn up streets of the city to the ministry of health for the Palestinian Authority. The taxi driver had to make a number of different attempts and detours to finally get us to the right building, but we made it in spite of the leftover roadblocks. 

We had an exceptional meeting with the minister of health. I explained how pleased I was to have made the connection with Red Crescent, who would see to it that our medical goods made it into West Bank without all the problems we had previously encountered. 

The minister of health listened and asked a few questions about our previous experience in West Bank, Gaza, and Beirut, Lebanon. Then he said, “Look, I am really sorry that you had problems before. But, I guarantee you will not have any problems this time. Here is a list of the items that we desperately need in our small hospitals and clinics throughout the West Bank regions. Everything that Red Crescent brings in has to go through me right here in this office.” 

“Let me see if I am hearing you correctly,” I responded. “If I worked directly with you I could shortcut the whole process and not have to ship the donations in through Jordan? And you will guarantee safe passage and delivery to the hospitals we designate?” 

“That’s right,” he assured me. 

“If that’s the case,” I added, “then I’m sure we can help fill the list of your needs for the smaller hospitals and rural clinics as well.” 

Our time was getting very short. Mohamed, realizing that I had to get to Tel Aviv to catch my flight that evening, had decided that we could make one more set of assessments on our way. He had called Jerusalem and told them we would meet with the Palestinian Charitable Society at two o’clock. 

Mohamed’s brother-in-law took us down to the center of Ramallah where the taxi vans all gathered. We found a taxi that would take us to the military checkpoint at the edge of West Bank.

We were dropped off and checked by three groups of Israeli guards. We were cleared quickly when we showed them our US passports. We then walked about the length of two blocks through the concrete barricades over to the Israeli zone. Once on the other side we scrambled for a taxi with a yellow license plate, which would be authorized to take us into Jerusalem. 

Once inside the city we met up with Mohamed’s uncle who took us to the Arab section for our meetings with the Palestinian Charitable Society. There were several clinics that offered free medical services to hardship cases in the eastern section of Jerusalem and the outlying Arab communities. 

My suggestion to them was to work directly with the health minister in West Bank and with Mohamed as to the logistics of getting the needed supplies from Project C.U.R.E. delivered to the correct recipients. 

When we were finished with the needs assessments in Jerusalem I was escorted through the narrow streets of the old city and shown all the traditional sites including the Church of the Sepulcher, the Via Delarosa, the Dome of the Rock, the Mount of Olives, and the Jewish Wailing Wall.

We ended up on a very narrow street with high stonewalls on either side. We paused in front of a small metal door easily unnoticed if it were not familiar to you. Mohamed’s uncle reached into his pocket and retrieved a key and unlocked the small door. I was ushered in and to my surprise there were six additional doors waiting on the inside of the wall. The small homes within the old walls of Jerusalem were over 500 years old and presently occupied. The uncle and his wife lived in one of the units three days a week; the other four days they stayed in Ramallah. 

I was served another cup of strong Arab tea and we sat out in a little porch area inside the old wall. I let my imagination run the gamut wishing the old walls of Jerusalem could reveal to me their secret stories of days gone by. 

It was time for me to leave for Tel Aviv and the Ben Gureon Airport. Mohamed’s uncle used his cell phone and called a family friend who owned a taxi. We walked from the narrow streets to a parking lot near the old Wailing Wall. The taxi had the correct registration numbers allowing its movement out of Jerusalem and into Tel Aviv. There on the street corner in old Jerusalem I said goodbye to some newfound friends from the Palestinian corner of the world. 

As I flew Air Canada flight #887 back to Toronto and then on home to Denver, I had some time to reflect on where I had been and what Project C.U.R.E. was becoming. Not many people had had the opportunities afforded to me. I had been able to get acquainted and live with people in their own environment and culture, not as a tourist or stranger, but as a friend. It had been from that position that I could feel and observe their hopes, their disappointments, their anger, their concerns for their families, their beliefs, their religious practices, as well as their love for me. I had greatly valued the privileges of my life. 

I was sure I should have been able to come up with something really intelligent to say about the Middle East’s historical situation since I had now been intimately involved in it for over 15 years. The truth was I didn’t know what to think. I had cataloged a lot of observations, read a lot of background material, tried to stay current on the present happenings, and asked a lot of people for their opinions. I had no assurance at all that there would be any satisfactory arrangement until the end of times. I couldn’t help but wonder as I was making my way back home if we were not already a part of those end times. 

But, above and beyond all that, it had been a rich experience to be able to share help and hope with countless numbers of people who needed to see the everyday working out of God’s love in a real world. What an outstanding privilege!

© Dr. James W. Jackson   

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