SAN ANTONIO • Father Ted Pfeifer, OMI, is known as the “missionary at risk.”
The Oblate priest has battled against drug dealers in Mexico for decades to help the indigenous people fight for justice.
   “The Oath,” a film by director María Luisa Zapata which shares the courage and bravery of this man to stand up to the drug powers, premieres Aug. 6 at the San Antonio First Annual Filmmaker Festival. About six years ago, Zapata told the priest she wanted to make a movie about his struggles, and the Oblate missionary agreed. It is based on the true story of this priest, who overcame obstacles to bring awareness to the world of his fight for justice while risking his own life protecting others.
    “People know one aspect of the drug trade,” Father Pfeifer said. “They may never know all the violence and blood this causes in such a poor country.

   Father Pfeifer went to Mexico in February 1963. A native of the Rio Grande Valley, he attended high school at St. Anthony and later Oblate School of Theology for seven years. He was ordained in 1959 at St. Mary’s Church downtown by Auxiliary Bishop Steven Leven, who later became the founding bishop of the Diocese of San Angelo.
    That diocese is now led by another Pfeifer, Bishop Michael Pfeifer, OMI, Father Ted’s brother.
Following two and a half years of ministry at Holy Family Parish in Corpus Christi, Father Pfeifer spent 32 years in the Diocese of Tehuantepec, Oaxaca, Mexico, ministering to the Chontal and Zapatec Indians in the highlands.
    The 16th century parishes built by Dominicans had no priests and were visited by clergy only sporadically up through the Mexican Revolution. During the pontificate of Pope Pius XII, the Oblate of Mary Immaculate agreed to provide clergy for the region.
When Father Pfeifer arrived four decades ago, there were only 16 priests in the whole diocese, which encompassed enormous mountain ranges. All traveling was done on trails by horseback, and it was a day’s ride from mission to mission. Of course, there was no electricity, and in most places water had to be hauled by buckets.
    “Some of the parishes had 42, 35 and 28 missions,” said Father Pfeifer. “In Tequixistlan there were 30 missions, towns and villages; Santa María in Ecatepc had 12 missions and St. Mark in Quilogan had 12 missions.”

    Most all faith communities were led by men and women who took special courses as catechists, preparing parishioners for the sacraments and also serving as ministers of Communion. Once a month, Father Pfeifer would consecrate several thousand hosts which were placed in plastic watertight cans and transported by the catechists to their villages, sometimes several days travel away.
    The Oblate priest ministered in Quiechapa for 28 years, until 1994. The region featured mountains a mile and a half high with huge forests of pine and fruit trees as well as vegetable fields consisting of turnips, yellow squash and string beans. Father Pfeifer even brought in an agronomist from the Ford Foundation who taught farmers better methods of planting and tree grafting, with gifts of improved trees given to each family.
    “It seemed like a paradise at times,” said Father Pfeifer. “Women changed the flowers in the church 364 days a year, and there were no telephones.”
In the early 1980s, however, the priest started to notice activities that didn’t exist before. People were coming from the northern part of the country who knew the mountain terrain and climate. They befriended the local people and distributed cash. Farmers were paid to plant and grow heroin poppy and marijuana and were taught how to cultivate these new crops.
    Two small airstrips were built near town, and planes carried out drugs on flights three, four and five times daily.

    One day Father Pfeifer talked to a man from the village walking alongside a wooden box being carried by a donkey. The crate was full of automatic weapons, namely AK-47 machine guns. “Who will this be for?” the priest asked. “It’s for us to protect our interests,” the man replied. And that’s when the killings and murders started.
    Gangs on horseback came in and took over villages, abusing docile people for their ends. The violence rose to such a level that one year Posadas could not be held because of the fear of the people.     In one village seven people were killed in a single day.
    That’s when Father Pfeifer started to keep a diary of those killed, documenting dates, names and locations. When the list reached 150 names, he went with fellow Oblate priest, Father Gerry Lyons, to the attorney general’s office in Mexico City.

    Among the murders chronicled was the case of Don Mytylo Baryla. A father of 12, he was approached by people who wanted to pay him to carve out an airstrip close to a drug growing area. He reported the incident to government officials in Oaxaca.
    Back in Baryla’s village, a truck came to his house one night. Kidnappers took him to another village, tortured him and hung him in a public execution.
    In 1980, a niece of the deceased was passing through the village. The abductors took her to the place where the torture was carried out. “Tell the priest he is next,” she was told. “Tell the priest he is on our hit list.”
    In another incident, 18 children were shot at by three gunmen while walking to a neighboring town to have their sixth grade graduation picture taken. The youth’s parents didn’t want to identify anybody, although their children recognized the assailants.
    Again, Father Pfeifer went to Mexico City to report the crime to the attorney general, this time accompanied by Father Jim Lyons, OMI. He also went to the state of Oaxaca district attorney’s office. “Cameras were there and my face was plastered all over the Oaxaca papers,” he said.

    Shortly after the visit, a large Army helicopter came to the church carrying 12 to 16 troops. “Word got out faster than e-mail,” said the priest. The inference was that Father Pfeifer was giving information to the Army, putting his life in even more danger.
    The threats from the drug dealers finally became a reality on March 8, 1987, during a drive on the Pan American Highway.
    While in the mountains between El Camaron and Totolapam on the way to his annual retreat, Father Pfeifer was turning along a curve at 30 to 35 miles per hour. On one side of the pavement was a sheer cliff; on the other was the mountain wall.
    “Suddenly I heard a tremendous explosion. I thought the truck had blown up, as I always carried extra barrels of gasoline. I then saw that the headliner in the truck had fallen down, and I could feel a rush of air and smell gunpowder. Gunmen with 9mm semiautomatic weapons had been hiding behind rocks on the left side of the road,” he said.
    The incident not only made national news, but also caused an international outcry. That, however, didn’t provide protection for the Oblate cleric in the Mexican countryside.
Back in his parish, Father Pfeifer was afraid. “I didn’t sleep well at night, and I didn’t sleep in a room with windows.”
    At Sunday morning Mass, 800 people filled the church. “My homily that day was different,” said the pastor. “I explained what had happened to me and cried. The Indians cried with their heads down and embraced me.”

    The following day men and women from the town gathered in the municipal building and had the priest join them there.
    “They asked, ‘What can we do for you?’ I said, ‘I have become a liability for you.’ They said, ‘Stay with us.’ I cried again, and they did too,” said Father Pfeifer. He remained with his people for another eight years. “I went about daily life as much as possible and I continued to move on.”
    Less than two weeks after the attack on Father Pfeifer, a nun from Columbia, Sister Luz Maria, a Missionary of Immaculate Conception, was killed while on a pastoral visit to Cuajinicuilapa in the state of Guererro.
    She had accompanied Father Bob Hickl, OMI, to the village of La Gloria Escondida (Hidden Glory) to prepare people for First Communion. Sister Marina and Father Hickl were each staying with different families at night.
    Father Pfeifer said three drug dealers in the area wanted to rape the nun and one of the daughters in the family with which Sister Marina was staying. The assailants rushed into the house and shot the nun in the stomach with a 38 caliber revolver. She died the next morning.
    Sisters from her religious community reported the murder to the Colombian Embassy in Mexico City. After several years of foot dragging by authorities the sisters finally gave up on the case. The remains of Sister Marina were exhumed by the church three years ago and placed inside the nearby church sanctuary.
    “There is no preparation in the seminary for ministry in this situation,” said the Oblate cleric. “But I felt I had a voice for those with no voice.”
    He spoke of a related incident in La Vieza involving four children he baptized. The father of the family was threatened by drug dealers and he moved with his offspring to the small village of El Cameron on the Pan American Highway. Six gunmen went to the house one day and massacred the children. Only a baby managed to survive.
    “The killers were the same people who had shot at me,” Father Pfeifer said. “I prayed for these men. One guy had killed 18 people, but I prayed for his conversion. The injustices perpetrated on the people helped me to act and react.”
    The priest said his numerous brushes with death have made him much stronger in his faith and prayer life. He added, “I pray the rosary and partake of the Eucharist daily.”

‘The Oath’
    Sixteen years ago, Father Pfeifer met María Luisa Zapata at the Oblate Lourdes Grotto. “She said, ‘I would like to write a book about you.’ I then gave her my background and some documentation,” he explained.
    The movie was named “The Oath” for a fourth vow taken by Oblates of Mary Immaculate, handed down by their founder, St. Eugene De Mazenod. In addition to the usual vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, the Oblates also profess by special vow to persevere even unto death.
    The premiere of “The Oath” will take place on Friday, Aug. 6, at 723 S. Flores St. For information, visit www.texasindependentfilmmakers.org. To make a reservation for this movie, go to RSVP at the web page and put in your name and address. Send $25 to the Texas Independent Film Makers at P. O. Box 40246; San Antonio, Texas 78229. This cost will include a dinner, the movie and entertainment