While the majority of my grandfather Thomas H. Willey Sr.’s mission work took place in Panama and Cuba, his first experiences overseas actually took place in the rainforests of Peru. It was in these remote and dangerous areas during the late 1920’s that Tom Sr. had his first taste of life as an intrepid jungle adventurer and where he confirmed his commitment to share his faith with other cultures.

Tom was in his third year at Asbury College in Kentucky when the opportunity to travel arose. He was in his late twenties, having started college late after life as a successful businessman in Philadelphia. School had been a challenge, as he showed up with what amounted to only a primary school education. As he stood in line the first day to sign in at the registrar’s office, he was asked about the number of credits he possessed. "How much do I need, sir? I have plenty of money in the bank, and my credit’s as good as gold." Judging from the laughter around him he began to realize to his embarrassment that the registrar was interested in a different kind of "credit." After testing it was found that Tom’s educational level was that of only a 5th grader. After some initial embarrassments, extensive tutoring and a healthy dose of dogged determination he made the progression from 5th grade to junior in college in a few short years.

Tom had been following the progress of a mission team working on behalf of the Christian & Missionary Alliance in the Amazon Valley of Peru when he received word that one of the team members had died and a replacement was needed. Tom’s deep faith, combined with his love for adventure and desire to travel abroad made the idea of foreign mission work a natural fit. He accepted the appointment, and after spending 3 months of intensive training at the Missionary Training Institute in Nyack, New York, he packed his gear for the 10 day ocean voyage to South America

After spending most of the trip from New York to Peru below decks with a severe case of seasickness, Tom was ecstatic to set foot on dry ground at the port city of Callao, just west of Lima. It would be an 18 day journey to the mission station, so the following week was spent gathering supplies for the trek over the Andes Mountains and then down into the rainforest.

It was to be an arduous journey on every kind of transportation imaginable. After a day’s train ride crossing over the peaks of the Andes Mountains, Tom’s group transferred their luggage over to cars driven by the local Indians. The roads were in many places only wide enough for one vehicle, and the drivers enjoyed terrorizing their passengers by driving only inches from the edges of the 1,000 foot cliffs. After two days of this Tom was grateful to arrive alive near the foot of the Andes. From this point the next leg of the journey would be by mule. The path was treacherous, and at one point on a narrow pass the mule carrying Tom’s trunk lost it’s footing and slipped over the edge into a crevice over a hundred feet straight down. Tom had to be lowered down by rope to put the tormented animal out of its misery, then had to tie his trunk to the rope so it could be lifted hand over hand back up to the trail. After the week by mule the party finally arrived at Puerto Bermudez for the final stage of the trip by riverboat and canoe.

In spite of the difficulties Tom had enjoyed the trip so far. He had a love for all kinds of beauty, and in later years would paint pictures from memory of the majestic landscapes of the Andes Mountains and the lush jungles.

As they began the last leg of the journey by water into the rainforest, he was enthralled by the sights and sounds of the exotic wildlife. Families of large black caimans lay on the river banks, often diving into the water as the boats approached. Monkeys could be seen and heard screaming in the trees. All manner of colorful birds, large insects, turtles, snakes and lizards could be seen on the banks and in the branches hanging over the water. There was even the occasional bark of a jaguar hidden in the brush.

Tom was also enjoying his time with their Campa Indian guides. They wore long robes called cushmas with woven sashes, bandanas and various native headgear. Most wore bows and arrows on their shoulders, and a couple carried rifles. Many wore red and black paint on their faces. As they made their way down the river they communicated boat to boat using hand signals, and Tom was amazed at how quick and efficient their communication was.

Tom felt an immediate connection with the Campa leader, Miguel. He was impressed by the Indian’s wisdom, experience and grace, and felt more secure around Miguel than he had at any other point in the trip. They would eventually become close friends.

Upon arriving to the camp and settling in, Tom began to adjust to the basics of life in a jungle outpost. Although the heat at times was nearly unbearable, they were forced to wear clothing that covered almost every part of their body to protect from swarms of mosquitoes. Oftentimes cheesecloth had to be worn over their faces, and socks had to be worn on their hands with holes cut out for fingertips.

Part of Tom’s initial duties was to begin building some permanent dwellings to replace the temporary jungle shelters that the group had been living in. The ingenuity and organizational skills that had made him successful in the business world were an asset as he organized the recently cleared land into a working and efficient base of operations.

One of the more peculiar items he discovered early on was how monkeys served multiple purposes at the outpost. A 19 yr old team member by the name of Clyde Taylor, who had already been living at the station, had assembled an assorted group of pet monkeys that he stationed at various points in the camp to act as a sort of primitive motion detector system. Whenever any of the large jungle cats would attempt to enter the camp at night the monkeys would begin screaming, alerting the missionaries and scaring off the cats. Tom had to get used to having his sleep broken regularly.

Apparently the monkeys became so attached to Clyde that after he had left on a trip to Lima one of the monkeys was found under a bed hugging one of Clyde’s socks and refusing to come out even to eat.

The other use of the monkeys was as a dietary staple, and it was on Tom’s first hunting trip that his real troubles with monkeys began.

As they set off into the jungle outside the camp, his Indian companion indicated through sign language for Tom to be ready with his rifle. As they crouched in the brush the Indian began a series of monkey calls. Tom was stunned at the bizarre variety of sounds coming out of his Indian friend. Sure enough, after a few minutes a large monkey appeared. Tom aimed his rifle and fired, and the animal dropped.

Moving forward to survey their handiwork, Tom was shocked at the fact that the monkey appeared to have a reddish beard. He exclaimed to the Indian (who of course did not understand him) "Lord forgive me! I’ve shot an Irishman!" As the guide prepared the monkey to move, Tom looked into the open eyes of the dead animal. It looked so human that his stomach was sick with guilt. He vowed from that moment on that, although he may have to eat them, he would never shoot another monkey again. He would go on many more hunting trips with his Campa Indian companions, but he always made sure that someone else did the shooting. Years later in Panama, where monkey meat was also a staple for the Choco Indians, he still kept his vow.

Unfortunately for Tom there was one more complication to the day’s events. Some time after returning to camp he heard screams coming from the kitchen of the female missionary who prepared their meals. Apparently Tom had not understood his Indian guide’s instructions to have the animal cleaned and dressed before delivering it to be cooked. Tom had left the dead monkey lying completely intact on the kitchen table – head, hands, feet and fur. He would recall with a chuckle years later – "Apparently she thought it looked like an Irishman too!"

As Tom continued adjusting to his new life he would soon discover that there were more troublesome things in the jungle to deal with than just monkeys.

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