“Do not ever forget our country. Keep us in your hearts and prayers. And come back to us. Please come back to us.”—Rosa Anaya

May 2008

Dear friend,

For more than a quarter-century, I have been a working journalist, covering some of the most important stories of the day. For most of those years I subscribed to the common wisdom about journalists—that we are tough-minded people seldom moved to tears by the stories we cover.

My mind was forever changed about that “tough guy” in 2002—the year I traveled to Central America with a first stop in El Salvador. Our delegation, organized by the kind folks at CRISPAZ, was led by Rosa Anaya, a young Salvadoran mother of two who had spent much of her childhood moving in and out of her native land as her parents, Herbert and Mirna, steered the family out of harm’s way during the civil war.

Rosa laughed with us, danced with us and shared her stories, unpeeling layer-by-layer the truth that was El Salvador. She provided animated translation in Nuevo Copapayo, a village outside Suchitoto. This patch of land was resettled by the villagers of the original Copapayo who were forcefully evacuated to make way for a reservoir project. Don Angel, the alcalde, or mayor, of the village brought us all to tears as he described how his young wife had been cut in two by machine-gun fire from a warplane overhead during the early days of the war.

Rosa and our CRISPAZ partners also helped us retrace the footsteps of the martyrs of El Salvador: We visited the home of Archbishop Romero and the chapel where he was shot and killed. We visited the University of Central America, where the six Jesuits and two laywomen were killed in November 1989. We met with Maryknoll Sister Terri Alexander who, only by the grace of God, had been spared the same fate as the four U.S. churchwomen killed in December 1980.

Then, finally, on the evening before we were to depart, Rosa shared with us how she had witnessed the execution of her father. Herbert Anaya was killed by Salvadoran government death squads who, along with the military, were responsible for the death or disappearance of 75,000 Salvadorans during the 12-year civil war. As Rosa told her story, she handed each of us a rose, the symbol that her father had always held up to remind him of his daughter. As we cried, she made this plea to us: “Do not ever forget our country. Keep us in your hearts and prayers. And come back to us. Please come back to us.”

In the almost seven years that have intervened since hearing Rosa’s plea, I have come back to El Salvador several times—in my capacity as a journalist, with delegations, however I could get there to visit this beloved country. And now I am returning in a new way—as the first executive director of CRISPAZ. This new position was created by the Board last October to restructure in order to better address current organizational needs. I was greatly humbled when, last January, the board asked me to take on this new challenge. To join such an organization, as Antonio Cañas, our new El Salvador coordinator explained in his letter earlier this year, is a great privilege. Like my colleague Antonio, I hope I will be able to live up to this honor and fulfill the great responsibility entailed.

I just returned from a trip to El Salvador to meet our in-country staff—and while there I had the opportunity to meet one of CRISPAZ’s founders, Rev. Peter Hinde. We talked about how CRISPAZ will celebrate its 25th anniversary in 2009, a milestone that he and the other two founders—Paddy Lane and the Rev. Dan Long—never imagined as they established this faith-based project for peace in 1984. But I believe they can be tremendously proud that all these years later, CRISPAZ continues to operate with our core mission intact: to accompany the people of El Salvador as they make their journey through the struggles of life.

Today, as in 1984, we continue to accompany the people of El Salvador, walking hand-in-hand with them as they struggle through new challenges—

• gang violence and the malevolent forces unleashed by so-called free trade;
• ever-higher prices as opportunities for work—almost any kind of work­—slip away;
• the breakup of families as women are left behind while husbands, sons, and brothers journey north in search of opportunities because there are none at home.

In anticipation of this 25th anniversary, I repeat to you Rosa Anaya’s plea: Never forget El Salvador and its people—and come back some day. And I have a very concrete suggestion about what you might do: Make a gift today to help establish a 25th Anniversary Fund—a nest egg to ensure that CRISPAZ will be positioned to survive—even  thrive—for another quarter century of service.

You are likely one of the millions of U.S. taxpayers who, like me, are scheduled to receive one of the $600 checks being touted as a stimulant for our flagging economy. Please consider giving CRISPAZ some—or all!—of that windfall. That is what I plan to do.

As part of the CRISPAZ 25th anniversary celebration, we will acknowledge all contributors to this special anniversary fund in our publication Salvanet and on our Web site. I hope everyone who has come to El Salvador in the past and still feels challenged to respond because of someone like Rosa Anaya will make sure his or her name is on this list. It is one way of remembering and a good way of remaining part of the future of CRISPAZ—and El Salvador.

Peace to you,

Dennis O’Connor
Executive Director