STEINBACH MAN RECOUNTS ORDEAL IN MEXICAN PRISON

A medical missionary from Steinbach has finally received word that criminal
charges brought against him by the judicial system in Mexico have been
dropped. But Steve Frey will believe it only when he sees it on paper.

"I'm waiting for proof," Frey says.

It's little wonder he is wary after spending three months in the stench of
a federal Mexican prison on a false charge of transporting illegal drugs
into the country. He was thrown in a cell with 40 others, with temperatures
soaring to 120; a river of sewage flowed freely at their feet and stabbings
were commonplace.

"Conditions were simply deplorable," recalls Frey in an interview.

The worst of it was he had no idea how long he would be there. If he was
found guilty--which he came to realize was entirely possible because the
whole system is corrupt--he might well have to serve 15 years or more.

"If it weren't for the prayers of my family and friends around the world, I
would probably still be there," he says, adding that at least $40,000 from
supporters was also paid as part of his release.

He notes it's ironic that he was treated as a high-risk drug-dealing
criminal--moved around with handcuffs and always at gunpoint--while hard
core drug dealers were moving in and out of the country to the United
States with little interruption in their illegal activities.

"The Gulf Drug Cartel owns "justice" in the state of Tamaulipas through
extortion, corrupt dealings and implanting fear," says Frey.

He suggests the federal prisons are stuffed with people arrested on minor
offences--or no real offences at all--while the bigger crimes often go
unpunished.

Bottles Of Cough Syrup

In his case, the charge was transportation of psychotrophic drugs which put
him in the same class as cocaine dealers. In reality what he carried was 12
bottles of cough syrup and 12 bottles of cold pills containing
pseudoephedrine, a common over-the-counter decongestant. In fact, the same
medication is readily available in Mexico to any person wanting purchase
it, but this bit of evidence was not allowed in court.

His arrest Aug. 19 came as a complete shock because Frey, a nurse, has been
going into Mexico off and on for five years, often carrying in a load of
medication and other supplies for a clinic near Cuidad Valles, one of the
most impoverished areas in the country, 350 miles south of Texas.

It is the base for a mission complex--known as Voice in the Wilderness
Ministry--which includes a church, a medical clinic and the beginnings of a
school.

"I liken my experience to a whirlpool," says Frey. " I was floating for a
long time, not realizing that I was getting closer and closer to the
centre. Then suddenly I was sucked into the vortex, seemingly unable to
escape."

When he was stopped by border custom agents in mid-afternoon and searched,
he was quite at ease because it was the usual procedure. However, when he
was detained until nightfall and then transported in handcuffs to a holding
cell in the penitentiary, he began to suspect there was a real problem.
When he was told they would test the drugs found in his car, he wasn't
worried since he knew they were not illegal.

After three days in the holding cell with 10 others--which was a grim
experience in itself but nothing like what he would later face in the inner
bowels of the prison--he officially became a prisoner. Laws were
disregarded or purposely misread by the judge and the lawyers assigned his
case seemed only to see American dollars, he maintains.

Emotional Stages

Frey notes he went through two distinct emotional stages over the next
months. During the first period he was completely overwhelmed by the prison
environment--the stench, the razor wire enclosures, the greasy, slimy food
served from buckets, the machine guns, the heckling from other prisoners
and drugs freely changing hands (many guards were part of the dealings).

And no one seemed to believe his story.

"Here I was supposed to be the 'good guy,' yet the guards treated me like a
common criminal, like a drug trafficker. It seemed I had no reputation,"
Frey notes. This was difficult to come to terms with since he had meant
only good, and given years of his time, energy and money freely to help the
poor in the country.

The second stage was one of extreme boredom because his world had become
very small. There was very little to do inside the four prison walls apart
from responding to three roll calls a day and walking in circles for exercise.

"By the third month I was in a state of lethargy--there was a deadness
inside," Frey remembers. "I think it was a way of self-preservation."

However, through all this he distinctly saw God's protection and provision.
Word had spread to his fellow missionaries and his family and friends who
were praying for him as well as to some members of the U.S. Congress and
Canadian MPs who were advocating on his behalf.

After a few weeks, a medical missionary friend of his, Dr. Reyna, came
forward to take his case, replacing the federal lawyers. Without this
defence, Frey isn't sure how it would have ended.

Secondly, the warden under whose care he was placed was a Christian man who
became his protector in many ways.

"I don't know if I would have survived the horrible place without him,"
says Frey.

Thriving Church

Thirdly, he soon became connected with a thriving church inside the prison,
started by Pastor Miguel Iglacias, who had been handed a sentence of 39
years on trumped-up charges. About 250 men (out of a prison population of
2,800) regularly attend services and prayer meetings in the chapel area.

"The atmosphere of the prison has definitely changed for the better since
the church started five or six years ago," says Frey. "Even government
officials notice the difference."

Frey became acquainted with many of the Christian men who encouraged him
and left an impact on him. He cites as one example Manuel (Manny) Martinez,
an American attorney falsely accused of masterminding a bank robbery. Frey
points out Martinez has become entangled by the "strangling tentacles" of
the unjust Mexican penal system, and after seven years has still not been
sentenced.

"His rights have been violated and his voice stopped," says Frey.

When Frey was finally released on Dec. 2, he walked out of the prison to
greet his parents, Alvin and Lydian Frey (former missionaries now living in
Landmark), who had travelled to Mexico "by faith," he says. He returned to
Steinbach just before Christmas.

It has taken several months for Frey to sift through his ordeal and chances
are he will never forget it although the acute horror of it will eventually
fade. While he is unsure of exactly what the future has for him--he will
settle in Steinbach for the time being where his three adult children
live--he will not forget the people he worked with.

"I love the people of Mexico," he says. "They are suffering under the
grinding weight of corruption and being held slaves to poverty and fear
because Canada, the U.S. and the world closes its ears to their cry for help."

He pleads for the public to make the voice for justice heard.

"You can help Manny, the people of Mexico and humanity by bringing
attention to the world of what is actually going on in Mexico," he says.
"We must raise a clear voice for justice."