Tuesday February 23rd, 1965
We worked at the packing most of the day. Maurice Smith came over after 12 o’clock and helped M.G. build crates. I spoke at the WMU at Third Creek Baptist church. They presented me with a New Testament with my name engraved on it and one lady gave me $10.00. Afterwards we went by Dr. Cole’s office and had some more shots. Alan made the statement that if he had any more shots; his arm was going to rot off. Alan woke up crying during the night.
I do not remember much about packing and getting ready to go to the mission field for the first time. I don’t know if the trauma of the ordeal has created a blank spot in my memory or if I just was too young to care where I went as long as Mom, Dad, and maybe Alan were there.
Many of you can attest to moving day jitters but until you have moved your entire family overseas away from everything you hold dear you can’t understand the angst Mom felt. Yet she still functioned well within the calling she felt from the Lord. During her speech to the WMU I sure Mom gave more than a passing thought to what Dad was missing in his quest to send our belongings to Africa. Dad was the idea man of the house, but Mom being the one who implemented all such plans.
What is conspicuous by its absence is the mention of Ken and his reaction to the series of shots absorbed by the Duncan’s arms. Was it the stoic way he faced life, bravely accepting all obstacles in his path? Heroically accepting pain and comforting his older brother in his time of need. No, most likely the pain in his arm was responsible for the aforementioned trauma that obscured the details on his first trip overseas.