Around 1:30 a.m. on June 28, 1973, I received a phone call from a young woman—Sister Crawford was her name—who I had met for the first time just a few months ago.
She was calling me from a small city in southern Chile: Talca (population circa 100,000). But this did not strike me as odd since that is where I first made her acquaintance. Indeed, I would have been surprised if she had been calling from anywhere else since both us were in Chile serving proselytizing missions for the Mormon Church. I, at the time, was in the nation’s capital: Santiago. But what was odd was the time of day of, and the reason for, her call. But I’m getting ahead of my story.
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