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Roni also had a problem that Peruvian villagers, who often lose children to illness, could relate to. She miscarried 10 weeks into her only pregnancy in 1997. As she later wrote in a candid essay to her church, "I felt like I had fallen from a huge cliff, without a parachute, and hit bottom with an incredible thud." Eventually, with prayer and Prozac, Roni recovered. And she used the experience in her mission work, advising other grieving women to put their relationship with God before their personal desires.
Roni's devotion to her faith dated back to age 12, when she watched her military father get on his knees to invite Jesus Christ into his life. Then he rose and poured out all the alcohol in the house. Her family had never been very religious before. But Roni embraced her dad's conversion as her own. At age 17, she entered the tiny Piedmont Baptist College in Winston-Salem, N.C., where she vowed to date only boys who wanted, like her, to be missionaries. As she wrote in the essay: "Seriously! Whenever I was asked out, even for ice cream, my first question would be, 'What do you want to do when you graduate?'"
Finally, Jim Bowers gave her the right answer, and they went roller skating. In 1985, they were married. Jim had grown up on the Amazon, where his parents were missionaries, and longed to return. They signed up with the Association of Baptists for World Evangelism, a missionary agency based in New Cumberland, Pa., Calvary Church, in Fruitport, Mich., agreed to pay for their mission. Since there are few roads linking rural villages in Peru, planes and boats are essential. Over six months in 1997, church volunteers constructed the Bowers' boat in a barn, then shipped it off in sections to the Amazon.
In Peru, Roni and Jim Bowers were two of about 6,800 Christian missionaries, most of whom were Roman Catholic. They worried about snakebites and thievery but rarely thought about drug smuggling, Boykin says. Peru is not among the A.B.W.E.'s list of most dangerous countries. Sometimes, they would see cigar boats racing down the river or hear stories about military planes buzzing a missionary plane. But the A.B.W.E. says none of its planes had ever been shot at before.
On the morning of Roni's death, the Bowers were returning from an errand--applying for a visa for Charity. Jim Bowers was feeding Charity Cheerios when the Peruvian jet dived toward them. He handed the baby to Roni. Seconds later, bullets ripped through the cabin--one entering Roni's back and going into Charity's skull. Both died instantly. The plane was thrown into a steep spiral, and flames erupted all around them. Seriously wounded in both legs, pilot Kevin Donaldson somehow managed to land the plane. In the chaos, Bowers pulled the bodies of his wife and daughter from the burning wreckage. Bowers and his son perched atop the capsized plane's pontoons until natives arrived in a canoe half an hour later.
Despite the outrageousness of the killings, the missionaries have refused to place blame. Said Bowers at the memorial service for his wife and child: "Cory and I are experiencing inexplicable peace right now. God gets people's attention with a crisis." Since the deaths, the A.B.W.E. says interest in becoming a missionary has spiked. And Roni's smile and story have reached more people than she dreamed possible.