“Please hold me, I’m scared.”

My wife clutched my left arm. “Let’s just pray,” I whispered, as I held her close. The cabin lights were starting to flicker.

I’ve been in dozens, if not hundreds of flights before — air turbulence was nothing new to me. But this was, by far, the most severe. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t the least bit worried or anxious.

The passengers would gasp whenever our ATR-72 twin-engine turboprop would suddenly drop 100 feet or more within two or three seconds.

The people seated to our right — who just moments ago were joking, laughing, and talking about celebrities and sports — were now crying out to Mary and all the saints they can remember.

It was hard to see anything outside…

Just dark cumulonimbus clouds and lightning, signaling a big thunderstorm.

We took off just 25 minutes earlier, as the sun was setting over Cagayan de Oro City, Philippines. Our pilot, Captain Medina,...

June 24, 1994, Perris, California

I glanced at the bright red needle of the altimeter strapped to my chest: 10,500 feet!

I gazed out the window. The roads, trees, and houses blended into one bluish ethereal tint.

Kent, my jumpmaster, told me to put on my helmet and goggles as he began to lock our harnesses together.

We were now 12,500 feet above the drop zone. Two other jumpers slid the door open. The wind chilled my sweaty skin.

I zipped up my jumpsuit and staggered with Kent to the door. Then, I was at the scene I had long imagined — and dreaded.

While the sky seemed inviting, the ground, two-and-a-half miles below, was forbidding. As I got into the jump position, I tried not to think about how scared I was.

Just do it, I thought.

Beneath the roar of the fierce winds that clobbered my face, I heard Kent counting....

“One... two... THREE!”

Suddenly, buckets of adrenalin flooded my bloodstream. For the first three seconds, I felt my stomach surge skyward out the...

7:34 p.m., January 16, 1987, San Pedro, Laguna, Philippines

“Close your eyes!”

“Nobody moves, screams, or looks at us—or I’ll blow his head off!”

My family had barely finished asking the blessing on a Friday evening meal when we were faced with four masked, shabby-looking men brandishing handguns, an M-16 rifle, and a dagger.

How did these people get in here? What do they want?

“I said shut your eyes!” the leader barked, pointing a revolver straight at Dad.

Dad glanced at my two little sisters, my mom (almost nine months pregnant), my three brothers and me, and said…

“Just bow your heads and pray…”

“Yes, you better pray,” the leader mocked. “Because this will be your last!”

My eyelids trembled as I tried to keep them shut.

My knees were shaking. I wanted to do something, but if Dad was powerless right now, what could a 13-year old do?

I prayed that my five-year-old sister wouldn’t...