A telephone call from a ministry associate put a series of events into motion on March 8, 2022. A pastor from a small town about an hour from our ministry base in Quetzaltenango had sustained a serious eye injury. Medics at a local clinic determined he would need a hospital and surgery. The capital, Guatemala City, is some 6 hours away. The best option was for a medical transport flight.

This time of year, haze drastically reduces forward visibility to just a few miles. The unforgiving mountain terrain in the western highlands of Guatemala demands respect, even on a good day. For weeks now, volcanos had been active and consistently pushing ash into the air reducing visibility even more. Today, the flight conditions were right on the edge of safe flight operations. As a missionary pilot, it fell to me to make the “go-no go” decision.

As the medical transport passengers arrived, I already had a plan in my mind. I would fly a route where the haze is less intense, low in the next valley, and somewhat shielded from the ash clouds. As the main landing gear touchdown at La Aurora International airport, a 6-hour drive had been reduced to a 37-minute flight. My passengers were taken directly to hospital. I was pleased to learn afterwards that through successful surgery, his eye and vision were saved. The surgeon also noted that the eye would have been lost had there been any delay.

I dedicate this medical transport flight to my dad, Charlie Martinez, who passed away not too many days ago. Throughout my life, he was a source of encouragement, support, and a problem solver. A couple of life lessons that I learned from my dad define me to this day. Weigh your options carefully before you act, and think before you speak, as your words will leave a lasting impression. Both my dad and I served in the U.S. Marine Corps, so I bid farewell by writing Semper Fidelis (Always Faithful).