I was very fortunate to spend most of my first five years in the church close to Reverend and Mrs. Moon. I was the maintenance man at Reverend Moon’s home at East Garden from the summer of 1974 until February 1978, and was the only male staff member to live in the same house with Father and Mother Moon. Beyond just the physical proximity to them, I had a determination to break through my own reserve, to not be over-awed by my deep respect for them. I wanted be a real person around them, to joke with them and argue with True Parents when I thought I was right. I’m also sure that True Parents scolded me more than any other staff member at the time I was at East Garden. This made our relationship real and personal, as it remains to this day.
Much of our impression of people, both public and private, comes not from the big things they do, but rather from the small personal things. I hope that a different and personal aspect of True Parents’ character is revealed through these anecdotes, which I am privileged to share.
First direct time spent with Father
The first direct encounter I ever had with True Father was after Pledge service (Sunday morning prayer service) on Mother’s Day, May 13th of 1973. After Pledge, we sang some songs for Mother and then we had a short question and answer session with Father. Bobby Wilson, who was responsible for maintaining Belvedere (True Parents’ home in those days) had just bought a new riding lawnmower. I was asked to bring the machine up to the lawn to begin cutting the grass. Father decided he wanted to try out this newfangled contraption and, since I was available, I spent the rest of the morning with him. Six times I had to help with some minor problem with the mower while Father waited patiently. I was impressed that Father had a child-like curiosity and a desire to experience everything.
Greeting True Parents -- asking them to tour the buses
In 1973, I was responsible for preparing the two buses for the Day of Hope speaking tours. On June 15, 1973, when one of the buses was ready, I was so proud that I wanted to show it to Father. At that time, Father lived at Belvedere with no security.
It so happened that on that day there was a conference of all the national and international leaders taking place at the training center. I saw Father and Mother heading down the hill from the main house on the way to address the leaders’ conference. The members were on their feet, singing to welcome True Parents. I dashed up to True Parents in my greasy coveralls begging, “Father, please come see the bus!” Father responded by explaining that all the leaders were waiting. I countered that it would only take a minute. So with the entire senior leadership of the national and world movement singing, Father and Mother took time to look at the bus.
Twenty-five years later, I met Parents at the New Yorker Hotel and asked them to look at the boiler plant we had installed. Father responded that there was no time. I persevered, saying that it wouldn’t take more than five minutes. True Parents took the elevator down to more than fifty feet below the sidewalk and enjoyed the tour of the boiler plant.
From these and other encounters with True Father, I learned that he can be persuaded by enthusiasm and a sincere heart. Colonel San Kil Han once told me that the thing Father liked most about me was my enthusiasm.
Mother “forcing” Father to have midnight cocoa
When I started at East Garden, there was no professional security. However, I was the “night watchman,” staying up overnight in the main house kitchen. Father was going out fishing every day, sleeping so little that he would return from fishing and go out again while I was still on duty. He would often be home for only two to four hours. His health was suffering terribly from this schedule, and he looked like he had the flu. His face was puffy, his nose was running, and he looked tired to the bone.
One time, when Father was at the front door preparing to get into the car to go out again, Mother gave him a spank on the butt, grabbed his arm, and dragged him into the kitchen. Mother had the kitchen sister prepare hot cocoa. She stood brooding over Father like an angry but loving mother hen until he finished the last drop of cocoa. Father sat there sheepishly sipping the cocoa looking completely subjugated by his loving wife.
I learned from seeing this that the relationship between True Parents was very natural and healthy; normal in the true sense of the word. Mother wasn’t just proclaiming absolute obedience. I saw that her obedience included her ability, when necessary, to take command as a true stimulating wife must do at times.
Father at dawn, one on one
It was around 6:00 AM on a beautiful spring morning at East Garden. I was passing by the old main house when I saw Father out for an early morning stroll. Father was by himself—no Peter Kim, no Mrs. Choi, no security, nobody but Father. At the time, I needed his permission to use his bus to drive a group of people and needed an answer from him right away, but I had never encountered Father alone before. It might be difficult for the reader to understand, but in this situation I just didn’t know how to relate to Father directly. I had usually asked him questions through a mediator or translator: “Would you please ask Father if I can change the oil on his car?” or “. . . Shall I fix the light switch,” or whatever.
Father was about one hundred yards away, and I approached, not knowing what to do or say. Should I massacre the pronunciation of the Korean language by trying “Abonim” or “Abojee” (Korean for Father)? How about “Teacher”. . . maybe “Your Majesty”? How the heck does a young, no-position maintenance man address the living messiah? It felt too awkward to approach Father head on, so I walked a “J” shaped approach so I could approach from behind (probably a terrible mistake of heavenly protocol). I arrived to a spot about three paces behind Father, and Father stopped deliberately, waiting to see how I would address him. I could feel that he understood my uncertainty and awkward situation exactly, and that it was my responsibility to address him
Finally the word “Father” left my lips. Father turned around and faced me with a beaming smile, radiating absolute love. This was a direct spiritual experience with Father. It was a validation that beyond all differences of race, age or position, oneon-one, soul-to-soul, Father’s love for me was the manifestation of God’s original love. In that moment, for me, the very definition of the word “Father” changed forever.
Mother dragging me by my ear
Ye-Jin Nim, the eldest of True Parents’ daughters, had her bedroom down the hall from Parents’ room on the second floor of the old main house. The grout between the tub and the tile in Ye-Jin Nim’s bathroom had begun to crack and fall into the tub, making a mess. Mother showed me this, and I scraped out the old grout and replaced it with new grout. I assumed it was fixed. About a week later Mother showed me that the grout had failed again. I bought a better quality grout and fixed it again. A week later, Mother showed me that that too had failed. I bought the super quality grout, scraped it out deeper and longer than before and fixed it for the third time, sure that it was permanent.
Another week passed, and I encountered Mother in the second floor hall. She was not a happy camper; in fact, Mother was clearly angry at me and I didn’t know why. She grabbed my right earlobe between her thumb and forefinger and proceeded to tow me down the hall and into Ye-Jin’s bathroom where she put my nose near where the tub and tile met. The grout had failed again! At this point, Mother realized that, though I felt badly that I had failed again, my joy at just being with her was so much more powerful than my fear of her anger. She looked at my face, goofy with joy and love for her and knew that she had lost the psychological advantage. She just walked away. This time I scraped even longer and deeper and bought the 2-part epoxy grout, and it didn’t fail. I don’t think my goofy grin could have saved me again.
Grandmother—her humility
Soon-Ae Hong, or Grandmother Hong, is our True Mother’s mother. This testimony is from my limited experience with Grandmother Hong during the time I was maintenance man at East Garden.
Grandmother Hong arrived at East Garden without any particular fanfare and was assigned a room in a corner of the top floor of the main house. Because it was practically an attic, you couldn’t stand upright in parts of the room, and it had an irregular shape because of the dormer windows. Grandmother’s furniture was often passed on from Father and Mother Moon’s children. Grandmother dressed in the humblest of clothes, like any poor Korean grandma you see on the street. She worked as if she was part of the house staff, helping in the kitchen and around the house. She didn’t take her meals at the table with True Parents; rather she would help clear the dishes and would eat together with the kitchen staff. I didn’t know then that she had helped to sew the garments to comfort Jesus’ heart and lay the foundation for the messiah to return, three stitches and a prayer, three stitches and a prayer, three stitches and a prayer, for endless hours.
One of my main memories of Grandmother was of her garden. One spring, Grandmother summoned me to a plot of land out of sight of the main house and told me that this was where she would grow Korean vegetables for True Family’s table. This was a pretty good size garden, about 100’ X 35’. After I broke the soil with a rotary tiller, Grandmother did all the rest of the work, sometimes with help from whomever she could collar on any given day. So that year and every year, Grandmother would plant, cultivate and harvest this large garden. With muddy shoes, dirty hands, and dirty dress, she worked hour after hour in the hot sun like a humble farmer. I didn’t know then that this woman had offered her daughter in marriage to True Father.
I encountered Grandmother around the house and grounds, drove her occasionally and sometimes went to her room to fix something. She always said I was too skinny and tried to shove some Korean snack into my mouth. If I did any little thing for her at all she was deeply grateful. I was so stupid and she was so humble. I felt that I was just helping out a fellow staff member. She was really at the bottom of the list when it came to special treatment. I didn’t know then that she was the only person in history to participate in all three churches that prepared the foundation for the second advent—the Holy Lord Order, Ho Ho-Bin’s group, and the Unification Church.
Grandmother Hong was always taking care of the needs of others, whether it was for her daughter’s family, the never-ending stream of guests, or the staff. She didn’t take care of people by strutting around or reminding people of her position. She took care of people from the back of the room with a comforting smile or from the kitchen with a special snack, or from the prayer room with tears.
Grandmother never spoke publicly at all until one day, without warning, Father asked her to give her testimony. She stood erect in the middle of the room in whatever humble clothes she happened to be wearing, and because it was Father’s request, began to speak about herself for the first and only time. I don’t remember the words Grandmother spoke that day, but I’ll never forget the tears she shed. From the first sentence, the tears streamed forth from her eyes. For the entire time, she spoke in sobs. It was impossible for the translator to translate, because he too began sobbing uncontrollably. I didn’t know then what Grandmother was like. I thought that she was almost like me. She acted more like a staff member than True Mother’s mother.
The motto of our church is “Let us go forth in the shoes of a servant, with the heart of the Father, shedding sweat for earth, tears for man, and blood for heaven.” Soon-Ae Hong lived this motto quite literally. I didn’t know then what that meant at all, but Grandmother Hong knew.
Kitchen sister crying
During a staff reorganization meeting, one Japanese kitchen sister was transferred from the main house kitchen, where she could serve True Family directly every day, to the training center kitchen to cook for our members. She bowed humbly, accepted the transfer, and went out in the foyer outside the room and cried and sobbed so loudly that everyone heard.
Now, this sister wasn’t hurt because she lost some position or out of pride. Her pain was only because she would miss serving True Family so much. About a week later, she was transferred back to the main house, where she served for the next twenty years. True Parents are always moved by a sincere heart.
Mother feeding me at celebrations
One of the blessings of being part of East Garden staff was that I was allowed to attend all the celebrations held there, like birthdays, etc. It seems that at nearly every celebration after Father began talking, and I was kind of hanging out in the back, Mother would appear and grill me to make sure that I had eaten enough food, and she would usually try to stuff a piece of dduk (Korean rice cake) into my mouth. Parents really took care of the staff like they were their own children. I loved it.
Joking with Mother about carpet padding
I occasionally drove True Mother to Macy’s Clearance Center in White Plains, New York, to shop for household items. In-Jin Nim, Father and Mother’s second daughter after Ye-Jin Nim, was along on one of these trips. One of the items we were shopping for was a piece of carpet for the staff prayer room. Mother selected a carpet remnant and considered the sale complete. I said, “Mother, you should buy padding for the carpet.” Mother did not agree with my opinion, and several times she said that padding wasn’t needed. Each time, I came back and said it was. Mother was getting exasperated with my stubbornness and had had about enough of my opinions.
Finally at the end of her patience, she asked, “Just give me one good reason why we should buy padding for the carpet!” I knew Father’s standard of praying on a hard wood floor, or on a rock, or on the snow-covered frozen earth. My motivation was to make the floor softer for our staff. From a heavenly standard, my idea was ludicrous, and I realized how ridiculous it would sound to Mother. But I just had to try one last time. So holding back my own laughter I said, “Mother, so the staff’s knees won’t hurt.” We looked in each other’s eyes and both knew how silly this was and both started laughing. Mother was laughing so hard that tears were coming down her cheeks.
Father’s seriousness about security
I believe it was in early 1974, between Father’s 21-city speaking tour and the 32-city tour, that all the International One World Crusade bus team and other members gathered in a large basement meeting room at a hotel in Washington, D.C. This meeting closed one tour and kicked off the next. Father was speaking to us from the stage in the middle of the room.
Father was facing stage right. Without warning there was a loud crack that sounded almost like a gunshot from the stage left side of the room. I never found out what caused the sound, but what impressed me so much was that Father, like every one else, was startled by the sound. Everyone else jumped and was ready to take flight, but Father stamped his foot loudly down on the stage, assumed almost a fighting stance, and turned boldly to confront the apparent threat. His posture was erect and his expression that of a man ready to confront death and win over it yet another time.
Later, when I was maintenance man at East Garden, I received an emergency call to report to a room near Parents’ room on the second floor of the “old” main house. The report was “Fire.” It turned out that an electrical outlet had shorted out with a few sparks and some smoke. As I knelt on the floor, dealing with the electrical problem, Father appeared, squatting next to me. Father was there because he had heard a report about fire, a danger to the family whose protection was his mission. He remained until he understood the situation and was completely convinced that everyone was safe again.
These incidents and several others provided glimpses into some of Father’s unguarded moments. They revealed to me that, while Father’s statements to us of the deadly seriousness of his mission are inspiring words to us, for him his mission is the life and death business of every moment.
Watching a movie about the Holocaust with Father
Father’s tradition when seeing a movie at the theater is to enter the auditorium at whatever time he arrives at the theatre, watch the movie from that point and then leave at that same point in the next screening. He sees the movie exactly once. It’s just that he doesn’t necessarily begin and end his viewing when the movie begins and ends.
One time several staff attended a film about the Holocaust with True Parents. It was a graphic, terribly sad and realistic portrayal of the suffering of the prisoners in Auschwitz. When the movie reached the point at which we had come in, we all rose to leave. Father remained unmoving and watched the movie all the way through a second time. This is the only time I ever saw Father watch a movie twice in a row.
For Family Federation members, Father’s prison experiences are interesting and moving testimonies. This showed me that for Father, those experiences are in his bone marrow.
Mrs. Choi—her awe and respect for Father
At East Garden, I had a more flexible schedule than most staff, so by default I became Mrs. Won Pak Choi’s assistant. Several nights per week, I would go to her room after dinner to help her with filing and correspondence and to see if she needed any errands done. She received a large amount of personal correspondence from all over the world and acted as Father’s secretary to some extent. All the staff was focused on helping True Family, and because Mrs. Choi was on constant standby, she had little freedom to take care of her personal needs. Mrs. Choi was so grateful that I could get AA batteries, buy writing paper, mail letters or help with some of the daily necessities she required.
Sometimes I would leave her room quite late, and papers were still scattered all over the place. I felt ashamed; I would be practically dozing off, and Mrs. Choi would dismiss me out of kindness. I was in my twenties and she was in her sixties. Next morning, everything was organized. I finally asked how much she was sleeping, and she explained that she often slept only every other night and then only for about four hours.
We became friends, and I would spend hours listening to her stories of early church life with Father. Those days were very difficult for her, and like anyone she needed someone to share her thoughts with and act as a sounding board. These were first person testimonies of her incredible hardship and sacrifice. I was in awe of her and knew for a fact that if I, or anyone I knew, were faced with similar challenges, we would fail miserably. T h e most striking thing of all was that in describing her incredible life of faith and service, she spoke of Father with such reverence, respect and admiration. She was as much in awe of Father as I was in awe of her. I kept asking myself, “How great can Father be if such a great lady can admire him so much?” It was and is beyond my comprehension.
We became closer and closer; we even took a couple of courses together. Finally, one morning before dawn I received a call from Mrs. Choi. “Joe, would you like to take a drive and see the sunrise?” We drove along the Palisades Parkway to view the sun rising over Manhattan. We did this a couple more times before Mrs. Choi returned to Korea to be the principal of the Little Angels School. It is a cherished treasure to have had such an amazing and significant lady reveal so much of her humanity to me.
A visit from Mother
My room was in the basement of East Garden’s old main house where Father and Mother and their family lived at the time. It was a nice room with good sunlight, near the back stairs. It was a pleasure and a privilege to live so close to True Family. It also made for unpredictable encounters with them.
One night around 9:00 PM I was working at my desk with my back to the door. I heard the door open without anyone bothering to knock. I was angry because staff often showed little respect, entering my room and disturbing me at any time for any reason. I started to shout something like, “Don’t you know how to knock?” or some other words of anger, but for some reason, I caught myself before I spoke these words of anger. I turned and saw True Mother with eight-year-old Kook-Jin holding her hand, silhouetted in the doorway. Mother gave me a warm Mona Lisa smile, pleased to see me working. It was a wonderful moment, which could have been ruined by my anger.
Shoes arranged by Mother.
One day True Parents sent the children and most of the staff to the movies. True Mother was alone in the main house. Mike Wyatt and I were carrying a heavy cast iron bathtub into the house. True Mother held the front door open for us as we entered the house. We were straining and kicked off our dirty, smelly work shoes outside the front door and carried the tub up the stairs and into the bathroom under repair. When we returned to the front entrance, Mother was gone, but our shoes were neatly arranged at the side of the doorway. The bride of the messiah had organized our work shoes.
Shining Father’s shoes
At East Garden, after Father returned for the day, I would shine his shoes. Shining Father’s shoes was so precious because I could remove the traces of where he had been that day and think about what he had done. I would think about the challenges Father would face the next day and literally try to make sure he could put his best foot forward. I shined Father’s shoes before and after his speeches at Madison Square Garden, Yankee Stadium, and Washington Monument, and his appearances before Congress during these years. This responsibility was more important to me than any big project. It was being in touch with Father on a daily basis.
Clear instructions, and a scolding
When we bought East Garden, there was no real fence or security. Vacuum cleaner salesmen would actually show up at the front door of the main house and try to sell Mother a brand new Kirby. The security brothers arrived before the Madison Square Garden campaign and on April 30, 1974, Father directed us to build a fence around East Garden. Father walked around the inner and outer perimeter fence lines with us. I was assigned to clear the path for the new fence. Colonel San Kil Han translated.
Father directed that several trees be cut down. I asked Col. Han to translate twice and then asked him to translate my understanding of the direction back to Father. So the information had been stated three or four times by the time I felt assured it was clear. After we finished the tour, I went back around the perimeter, making a small notch in the trunks of the trees to be felled.
I called Bobby Wilson at Belvedere, who was my older and wiser brother. I asked Bobby if I could borrow the “Bush Hog” and a chain saw to begin clearing the perimeter. Bobby said no, that he was sure that Father didn’t want to have those trees cut down. I told him that this was a direction directly from Father to me and that I had been very careful to make sure that I understood it correctly. Bobby stood his ground. He said that no matter what Father had said, that that was not what he meant. I was blown away. How could this guy know better than I what Father wanted when he wasn’t even there when I was?
A few days later, a security brother came up to me, directing me to report to Father along the fence line immediately. Father scolded me severely for notching the trunks of a few trees. He explained that trees’ sap was like blood and that bark was like skin, and the notched trees could get an infection and die. I wanted to say, “But Father, you directed me to cut them down. Who cares about an infection?” Needless to say I kept my mouth shut and my opinions to myself. Bobby was too nice of a brother to say, “I told you so.” Those trees remain standing to this day.
It took me twenty years to understand why this happened. Here is my opinion: Father’s direction does not relieve anyone of responsibility for the results of following his direction. If he gives a direction that you think is not correct and you cannot take responsibility for the results of following it, don’t do it. Also Father’s direction doesn’t give you the right to be arrogant and ignore the opinions of others, especially if they are older and wiser than you.
Playing the trumpet
It is natural for children to want the attention and appreciation of their parents, but usually Father had breakfast, lunch and dinner together with leaders and members. It was rare for True Family to have any private time together. I’m sure this was very hard on True Parents’ children.
On one unusual evening, all the guests were gone before the children’s bedtime. They had a rare moment to have the attention of their parents. Three of the children came into the dining room to play for True Parents the instruments they had started learning in school. I believe one had a trumpet, one a violin, and the third a clarinet. The instruments were new to them, and they played simple songs like “Mary had a Little Lamb.” Their instruments squeaked and squawked, and they stopped and started over again. Still, for the True Family, it was better than a performance at Carnegie Hall until I ruined it.
I was a pretty good amateur trumpet player. In college, I’d even majored in music one year. I wanted to play for True Parents too. After Father and Mother’s three children played, I played. Of course a college level player is much better than an elementary school player and I “blew them away” with my performance. Out of my desire for True Parents’ praise, I ruined the children’s precious time with their parents. Their musical accomplishments that seemed so wonderful before I played then seemed so small. They just walked away, angry and hurt. At the time, I was so dense that I didn’t even realize how selfish I had been or how much I hurt the children by “showing them up.” They were children at that time, and I was supposed to be an adult. Why didn’t I act like an adult and rejoice in their performance instead of competing with them? It took me a long time to understand that the children needed a turn with True Parents without any competition or interference. The moments that they had alone with True Parents were rare and precious, and I ruined one of them. Unfortunately, this kind of situation was common in their lives.
When Mother gave her testimony
To my knowledge, True Mother has only publicly given the testimony of her life once, at East Garden in 1977. I had the privilege to attend. The words she spoke are recorded for posterity, but I would like to attempt to relate the emotions.
I had seen and spoken to True Mother nearly every day for three years. Without exception, Mother was like a fountain of pure, true love. To be in her presence was to be bathed in radiant light. Even when she was scolding me, I loved it. Mother would be putting more food on my plate and asking about my health and especially about what kind of wife I wanted. She was always comforting others and giving love with child-like purity. It seemed that Mother was just this person who was happy all the time and never had a care in the world.
When Mother began to give her testimony, she revealed a side of herself I had never imagined. I thought that Mother was literally made of laughter, but I discovered that she was constructed of tears. Mother wept and sobbed as she explained the torturous course she walked and the incredible trials and persecution she had had to overcome. My understanding of True Mother was totally changed.
The fish hook
I’m no great fisherman and was never particularly useful when I was on a boat. On one of the few times I went fishing with Father on the New Hope, he asked me to hold a piece of bait while he put the hook in it. The bait was a two inch cube of fish. Father was using an enormous stainless steel hook that looked big enough to catch a blue whale. Father looked me right in the eye and said, “Hold the bait.” He put the hook through in such a way that I was sure (not in the rhetorical sense of sure — I mean I was sure) that the hook was going through my hand. I had two choices: hold on and get stuck or let go to avoid the pain. This wasn’t about trusting Father or believing that he was skilled enough not to hook me. This was about deciding what is important. I decided that the pain of getting hooked would soon pass, but the memory of being hooked by Father would be a treasure forever. I communicated this thought to Father and he smiled, understanding my decision without any words being spoken. Father didn’t hook me that day, but the memory is indeed a treasure.
True Parents’ longing for their homeland
In October of 1978, True Parents took a group of members from Japan and all the foreign members working in Korea for a six-day sightseeing tour of Korea prior to the large matching for marriage at the end of the month. The most unforgettable moment was when we went to see the North Korean invasion tunnels that had been discovered near the border of the DMZ.
True Parents walked away from the main group and walked up a hill to a fence where North Korea could be seen across the valley that was the DMZ. Parents walked hand-in-hand solemnly up to the fence, touching it with their free hands. They were silent. No words were exchanged. The seriousness of the moment was so heavy, I could feel their life and death determination to return and liberate their homeland.