A Birthday and Memories of Honduras

Left to Right: Debra, Dean, "Jefe" and Doreen

On January 1, fifty-six years ago, I bordered a train in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, to begin a two-and-a-quarter year sojourn in the country of Honduras, Central America. Little did I know how that stint in a developing-world country would change the trajectory of my life. I write about this in my memoir of those two-plus years: Coming of Age in Honduras: A Young Adult’s struggle With Faith, Poverty and Sexuality. 

On Saturday, February 17, over 60 former volunteers from the Voluntary Service (VS) program in Honduras and their spouses gathered in Pennsylvania to celebrate the 90th birthday of their “Jefe” LaMar Stauffer. LaMar and his spouse, Kass (deceased) led the VS program in Honduras from their base in La Ceiba for some ten years. They were dearly loved by the VS “boys” for all they did to make the transition to a different culture and language. They became our surrogate parents during the time of our service, but more than that, they extended friendship that continued over the many years. 

The VS team when I was there.
"Jefe," his three children and Kass, on the front row. 

During the height of the Vietnam war, some 13 volunteers, scattered throughout Honduras, came under their care. New recruits arrived to replace those who completed their assignments. Kass treated all our illnesses and other physical needs, and LaMar, aside from leading the VS program, played every sport right along with us during our monthly team meetings. His youthful mindset included playing softball in a local league and participating in many of the pranks the VSers played on each other. 

LaMar’s three children, Dean, Doreen and Debra planned and hosted the event. Hispanic food, cake and ice cream served as reminders of our time in Honduras and LaMar’s insatiable appetite for ice cream. He had a hand-cranked ice cream maker, unavailable in Honduras, imported to regale us with ice cream to enrich our team meetings. 

I was among the group of VS boys, now elderly men, who attended the festivity. I reconnected with many of my contemporaries, some of whom I hadn’t seen seen since our days together in service. Stories and memories emerged; some forgotten and new ones made. 

My wife Esther and I traveled from Harrisonburg to Pennsylvania with Ray and Vi Horst. Ray had served in Honduras nine years before me, but we both had had LaMar and Kass Stauffer as our leaders. Both of us were Spanish instructors at Eastern Mennonite University stemming from our time in Honduras. 

Former VSers were given the opportunity to share stories with an open mike about LaMar. George Zimmerman, one of the first VSers shared about how the program evolved from the time he was first recruited, to when the program was big enough to accommodate a dozen or more volunteers at a time. We sang some of LaMar’s favorite hymns and failed miserably to sing an all-time favorite hymn that we all thought we knew from heart: “Por la mañana dirijo mi alabanza.” 

Carrying the "Zurdo" around the bases on our shoulders
after he helped us win the national championship.

I connected with my first roommate Ben, with whom I lived for a year in Guanaja, one of Honduras’ Bay Islands. I met with one of my roommates, Marvin, from La Ceiba where I lived for my second year. I connected with the southpaw Glenn, (Zurdo) who taught Hondurans fast-pitch softball and ruined my career as a home run hitter. I got a laugh from him when I told him that “I would never forgive him!” 

I connected with George, the VSer who voluntarily lived in a hut and slept on a the dirt floor to better identify with those he was serving. I greatly admired him for doing something I could never have done and because of his commitment, I wrote about him and the extreme poverty he experienced in my memoir. I met the couple, Irv and Janet, who had served as the hosts for the VS house in La Ceiba when I lived there. I connected Leon, who joined us from Argentina and reminded me that I introduced LPs by Simon and Garfunkel and Peter, Paul and Mary to the VS record library that had consisted mostly of Mennonite Hour “hymns of faith.” 

I met with Wilmer, who not only helped to set up the first VS unit in Guatemala among the Q’eqchi’-Mayan people after his time in Honduras ended, but returned to farm in Honduras. Ken, who was the VSer in Tegucigalpa who had the job I was jealous of, was also there, but I see him frequently because he lives in Harrisonburg, Virginia, where I do. 

There are many other names I could mention, some of whom were there when I was, and some who served years before and years after my stint. One of the things that most impressed me, is how many of these former volunteers, myself included, forced into service by the obligatory draft during the Vietnam war, returned to do a second or third stint of service. Our love for the people, language and culture of Honduras impelled us to return, many with their spouses. In fact, the first three VSers to Honduras, Amzie Yoder, George Zimmerman and Ben Stoltzfus all returned as missionaries. Only George was able to attend the party. Ben perished tragically during an attempted robbery while serving as a missionary in Belize (formerly British Honduras). 

Me (right) mingling with some of those in attendance

A monumental birthday and loads of memories filled the afternoon. The time passed too quickly, with many lingering after supposed closing hour. My heart was filled with delight to participate in this event, as I am sure was true of most of those attending. Thanks to the LaMar Stauffer children for planning this memorable event.