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WITNESSING TO DRACULA

A MEMOIR OF MINISTRY IN ROMANIA

by
DR. BILLY NG
Copyright © 2010 by Dr. Billy Ng

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced,


stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by
any means – BitTorrent/p2p/VPN/email or any other
electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or
other – except for brief quotations in critical reviews or
articles, without the prior written permission of the author.

To protect certain individuals, names of people and places have


been left out completely or have been changed, altered, and
aggregated.
Additional copies of this book can be obtained through our
website at www.witnessingtodracula.com

Library of Congress Catalog No:


ISBN
Printed in the United States of America
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS/DEDICATION

To my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, who made this book


possible.
To my beautiful wife, Laura Ng, who endured many single
nights while I wrote this book.
To my wonderful readers: Delores Torres; Diane and John
Roberts; Jessica Wyman; Marcella Hopkins; Jonathan Forster;
Allison Sadrianna; and Mary Lessner - many, many thanks for
your kind and honest input. Special thanks goes to Pastor Tony
Diuglio for his constructive comments.
FOREWORD BY JEFF CLARK
PRESIDENT, ELIM BIBLE INSTITUTE, NEW YORK
CONTENTS

Acknowledgements/Dedication………………………..
Foreword………………………………………………
1. Break-Into Ministry..........………………………..
2. The Naïve and The Fool are Close Brothers……...
3. Black Bear and One-Eye……………………….....
4. Mrs. Urdescu, the Communist Spy……………….
5. The Slaughter……………………………………..
6. Gypsies…………………………………………....
7. Strugurescu and Baby Robbers………………...…
8. A Discussion on Gypsies………………....….……
9. Conversations with God I……………………........
10. Pigs Do Fly………………………………………..
11. Adventures at Home…………...………………….
12. A Dog’s Life………………………………………
13. Craters………...…………………………...............
14. Setting Up the Crusade……………………....……
15. On What It Feels Like to be a Millionaire…….…..
16. The Payment………………………………..……..
17. Telemescu, the Music Student…...…………..……
18. Flying Coffins and Dracula’s Castle…………..…..
19. A Discussion on Dracula……………………..……
20. Corrupt Traffic Police…………………....……......
21. How to Sell a Crusade………………….......……
22. How Not to Sell a Crusade……………........……
23. How to Kill a Crusade……………………………
24. Corrupt Border Guards………..………………….
25. Children of the Sewers…………………………...
26. Food for Rats: A Visit to a State Orphanage……..
27. A Discussion on Orphans…………..……………..
28. Perescu’s Picnic…………………………………..
29. Corrupt Doctors……………………………..........
30. The Gentle Art of Lying………………………….
31. Cristinescu, the Trickster………………………....
32. The Trick……………………………………....…
33. Wild, Wild, West Lawyers…………………...…..
34. Conversations with God II………...…………...…
35. Credinescu, the Faithful……………………..…....
36. The Search Begins…………………………......…
37. The Gilded Night Club…..……………………….
38. The Cinema and the Politician……………………
39. The Grade School…………………………………
40. Is that a Patient on the Road? …….………………
41. Immigration I……………………………………...
42. Immigration II……………………………………..
43. Immigration III……………………………………
44. Legalism 101………………………………………
45. Legalism 102………………………………………
46. Legalism 103………………………………………
47. Start of Church…………………………………….
48. Adventures in Church……………………………..
49. Our Church………………………………………..
50. Petuniascu the Powerful…...……………………...
51. Conversations with God III……………………….
52. Surviving Christianity……………………………..
53. What’s Wrong with You, Woman? ………………
54. The Art of Pilfering………………………………..
55. I Want To Eat Some Roof Too.……………….......
56. Beggars or Believers? ……..………………............
57. Corrupt Teachers……...………...............................
58. Traveling First Class……...………..........................
59. At the Embassy…………………………….............
60. The Hit Man and Conversations with God IV….....
61. Epilogue…………..…...………...............................

1. Break-Into Ministry

I was always a law abiding person until the day God called
me into ministry.
“Give me the hacksaw,” I grunted.
“Which do you want?” Credinescu replied, displaying four
vicious looking hacksaws.
I looked over the bunch and selected the biggest, meanest
one. It was a black carbon model with stainless shark-like
teeth. I gripped it with my hand. It felt good, heavy and
vicious! It would get the job done. Breaking into a building
would be easy with this bad boy. I started sawing at the
hardened padlock.
After a few minutes, I was puffing and sweating in the bitter
minus twenty degree temperature. Drops of sweat crystallized
behind my neck.
“I keep hitting the door,” I wheezed to a wide-eyed
Credinescu. “I cannot get enough room to push the saw
through completely. This big one is of no use! Give me the
small orange one. I might have more saw-room then.”
Credinescu handed me the small orange saw. I could see that
his hands were shaking – more from nervousness than the cold.
It was his first time breaking into a building. It was my first
time too.

“Don’t worry,” I said comfortingly. “We will get in. I just


need a little bit more time.”
Credinescu, Bible in one hand and hacksaws in the other,
looked the very picture of misery. The picture of his pastor
sawing at a padlock and breaking into a building did not sit
well with him.
I started sawing vigorously anew. The little orange saw had
razor sharp incisors. As I sawed, my hopes of opening the lock
rose only to be squashed just as fast as they had risen. I moaned
and groaned and made other disparaging noises.
“I cannot get completely around the lock,” I panted, putting
down the saw. “Look! The lock is surrounded by a round solid
iron shroud! At this rate, we could be here until next
Christmas!”
Credinescu’s misery took on a new dimension as he digested
this news. He did not want to be around until next Christmas.
He grabbed the lock and examined it. He saw the small
scratches I had made on it. He let it go with disgust.
At about that time, to compound our nefarious activity, it
started to rain ice. I grabbed the metal shroud, with the lock
nestling deep inside, and began to study it, hoping to find a
weak spot. After a full minute, I came to the conclusion that
even Husqvarna’s biggest and most powerful chain saw could
not make a dent through the super hardened steel. An axe was
out of the question too. Too much noise, I thought morbidly. It
would have to take a Paul and Silas type miracle to get through
all this metal. Furthermore, I was beginning to slide wildly on
the thick coat of ice that had formed around the door I was
trying to break through.

2
The day had started off exceptionally well. It was Christmas
Eve. Bitingly cold but no snow was forecasted. I liked the no-
snow forecast for heavy snow has a way of making people stay
at home and away from church.

It was to be my first Christmas Eve program in Romania and


I wanted everything to go perfectly. I had planned this event
for months. I had downloaded Christmas carols from the
internet; the verses had been translated into Romanian; the
Praise and Worship team had learned and rehearsed the songs
from scratch (after all, none of them had heard of ‘Silent Night’
and any other type of Christmas carols until now). The song
lyrics were now on slides and each slide was made festive with
bright holiday colors and other decorations. I had made enough
flyers announcing this Christmas Eve program to literally cover
a huge chunk of Romania. The flyers had been distributed
throughout the community. I had even bought food and drinks
for the event. These were stored in the trunk of my car. I made
sure I had gas in the tank and I rechecked the car battery
several times. In those days, gas stations frequently ran dry and
closed for long periods of time.
I was very familiar with the American candlelight Christmas
Eve program. It was warm, friendly, and always coupled with
great carols. Just before midnight, candles would be lit and
‘Silent Night’ sung - enough to bring tears to the hardest of
hearts.
To mimic such fond sentiments of my life back in the States,
I had gone to a local hardware store to purchase some white
candles. The store had run out of white. So, I settled for some
thin yellow ones instead. I purchased fifty sticks and several
boxes of matches.
No project engineer with a detailed computer simulation
program could have planned it better. Engineers use simulation
programs to build bridges. I was using it to plan this event.

3
The Christmas Eve program was scheduled to start at 11:00
pm sharp. I was to meet the Praise and Worship team an hour
earlier so as to have sufficient time to set up the audio-visual
equipment as well as a last minute rehearsal. Some of our
equipment was stored in the school, the rest was with us.

At ten o’clock on the dot, I arrived at the school. I had rented


the school’s gym recently for church. I saw the Praise and
Worship team pulling up at the same time in another car. I
smiled broadly. They were smiling widely. I could feel the
Holy Spirit smiling widely too. Everything was going as
planned.
“Merry Christmas!” I shouted. “Let’s get set up! We have
only one hour.”
Credinescu and four others got out of their car, equipment in
tow. “Merry Christmas! This is going to be great! We are so
excited.”
“Let’s go!” I said, leading the charge.
We marched in through the rusted back gate of the school
which was hanging precariously on its last remaining hinge.
We could have avoided the gate altogether as the walls
surrounding the school had fallen down upon itself leaving
gaping holes the size of small cars. I wondered when the school
would get around to fixing its decrepit perimeter. It was an eye
sore and sure to turn off church visitors. But before my mind
had time to dwell on this gloomy picture, Credinescu and his
team burst out into song. Hearing the carols made my heart
leapt for joy again. We approached the gym.
“Wait here a minute. I have to get the keys,” I said, indicating
the guard house which was about fifty meters away.
I walked to the guard house and knocked. I could sense one
naked light bulb glowing feebly through the grimy frosted
windows. There was no response. I knocked louder. There was

4
still no response. I rubbed at the glass and tried to peer through
the frozen glass panels. It was useless. I might as well have
tried peering through permafrost mud.
The thought that my plan was going awry rose up in me. I
shook my head and quickly brushed off the sensation. My
simulation model was perfect. Nothing could go wrong. The

guard had to be in. I had spoken to him a few days earlier and
had reminded him of the upcoming Christmas Eve program. He
had been most cooperative then.
Credinescu, being curious as to my inexplicable delay,
materialized at my side.
“What’s wrong? Where are the keys?”
“This may sound stupid but I cannot find the guard,” I said.
“I knocked and knocked but nobody answered.”
“Let me knock,” Credinescu offered. “You probably knocked
too softly.”
“As you please.” I made room for him.
Credinescu banged on the door with his fists loud enough to
make all the stray neighborhood dogs start to bark and howl.
Requited with the same absolute silence from inside, he started
tugging at the door handle. The whole guard house shook like
an elephant with the ague as he pulled and banged.
“You might want to keep it down a bit,” I suggested. “We
don’t want the police coming here to find us breaking into the
guard house. The guard may have gone out for a walk. Let’s
give him a few minutes.”
“In this temperature?” Credinescu looked at me
incredulously. “The guard would never do that.”
“How would you know?” I asked confidently. “Let’s wait for
awhile.”

5
We waited for fifteen minutes while the cold crept up our
pants and coats. I could feel my organs shrinking.
Credinescu got impatient and started shaking the door
violently. That got the neighborhood dogs howling like mad
again.
“He’s not here,” I said, irritation creeping into my voice. “No
point in shaking the door when he’s not here!”

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