RISE International

The Journey Home

Thousands Mourn the Loss of Andrew Cole

Andrew Cole (1953-2004)

Only One Life  by Carolyn Muir
The line of vehicles stretched back along the red earth road as far as the eye could see. Angolans, young and old, packed together in flatbed trucks to take the treacherous two-hour journey through the rolling countryside to bury one they had loved. Church choir members in matching headscarves harmonized as their truck swerved and maneuvered along the pockmarked road from Kuito to Chilonda.

Carefully navigating recently constructed narrow wooden bridges, the procession passed fields with signs warning of still-active landmines and abandoned tanks, haunting reminders of the long and brutal civil war that had ended only two years before. Along the way, more people joined and soon motorcycles were dodging and weaving in between the trucks. Young people and children began running alongside the lead vehicle, waving bright bouquets of flowers neatly tied with handmade twine, a colorful tribute to the beauty of the man the Angolans knew as Ndotolo Andreo (Dr. Andrew).

Dr. J. Andrew Cole was their brother, son, leader, partner and friend. Decades of war and destruction had left the country in ruins and spawned a generation without hope. This was the place of his birth, a land and a people he considered his own. It was his passion and vision to help Angolans rebuild their lives that inspired and encouraged people to work together to build schools in remote villages, bringing education to these very children--the key, he believed, to a better future.

Soon the open truck carrying the simple coffin was completely enveloped by hundreds of running, singing and mourning Africans. Angolan receptions are always beautiful--but on this day, it was as if heaven itself was welcoming Andrew home through the gates of Chilonda.

As the procession reached its destination on a lofty hillside outside the tiny village of Chilonda, the casket was gently lifted out of the truck and placed on a table decorated with rich blue fabric and wildflowers. Row after row of somber men, dressed in their finest suits or sport coats, gathered there under an immense baobab tree. Women wrapped in brightly patterned fabric held their children's hands and quieted babies on their backs. Young people clambered up nearby trees to get a better view.

1500 heavyhearted Angolans stood on the dusty trail and listened to the words of gratitude from Andrew's wife, Lynn. She spoke of Andrew's love for them and the need to carry on the work.  Andrew's parents, Don and Naomi Cole, provided, even in the midst of their own grief, a gentle strength and comfort to those who surrounded them. The children, Megan and Dan, Stephanie, Ross and Rachel, heartbroken at the loss of their beloved father, were comforted by the presence of so many whom came to share their sorrow.

It was through these grieving Angolans--a long suffering yet deeply loving people--that the direction of the Coles' lives had changed. They had been transformed and given a new purpose by God. An amazing work has begun, and by God's grace will continue.