Mission pilot Gary Roberts died on July 24, 2024, from an inoperable brain tumor. Gary was born to missionary parents Bob and Jan Roberts in Central Africa and grew up deeply involved in mission service. While Gary was working at African Medical Aviation in Chad, he and his wife, Wendy, accepted a call from Adventist Aviation Indonesia in Papua, Indonesia, to carry on his father’s ministry after he died in a plane crash there in 2014. There, Gary, in partnership with his brother Eric, also a missionary pilot, transported sick or injured passengers to medical facilities and delivered food, medicine, and other supplies.
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merican missionary Olen Netteburg, who served 13 years with his wife, Danae, as medical missionaries at Béré Adventist Hospital in Chad, about a mile from African Medical Aviation, shared these memories of working with Gary.
At six am my phone rings, and I hear, “Olen, can you come down to the airport?”
I said, “Yeah, sure, Gary. It sounds like you’re flying. What’s up?”
“Well, I’m not really sure about this landing, so I’d just like it if you were there just in case.”
“Gary, you’ve landed hundreds of times and never asked me to come down before. What’s up?”
“Well, I’ve never landed with an elephant before. His trunk keeps wrapping around my neck. If you could just come down . . .”
“Gary, do you really have an elephant in the plane?”
“Well, it’s just a baby.”
“Gary, how did you put an elephant into a Cessna 172 with four seats?”
“It was easy, I just took the seats out.”
“Gary, just in case I don’t get to tell you this later, I want you to know I love you. And you’re an idiot.”
Of course, Gary landed fine. [He had transported the sick elephant for treatment.]
I’ve thought of several more of Gary’s flying exploits, and there’s a common theme in them. One time Gary asked me to come help fill the airplane with supplies. I show up, and he’s putting care packages in it. He’d realized that if he took out the seats, he’d have room for more. Chad was flooded then, and people were trapped in their villages unable to get food. So, he left just a little space for his wife, Wendy, and the two flew off to drop care packages to the villagers below.
Another time Gary called me and said, “I need you to come to the airport with a box of medical supplies. We go wheels up in 30 minutes.” I show up at the airport with a box of medical supplies and say, “What’s up? I don’t even know where we’re going.” He says, “Did you bring your passport?” I say, “Yeah.” “Well, we’re going to Cameroon,” he replies. We flew to a game park that had just had a tornado severely injure a group of high school students. One patient needed to be flown to Béré Adventist Hospital. It was her only chance of survival. So, Gary, without thinking twice, took out the seats, put them on the side of this dirt runway in the middle of nowhere, loaded this patient into the plane and took off back for Chad, leaving me with the seats, saying he might be back . . . later. Which he was.
We also had a volunteer die in Chad, and Gary took out the seats of the airplane and helped repatriate her body. There were many other patients that needed to be moved around and Gary would take the seats out of the airplane, put the patients in, and do what he had to do.
Gary moved planes all around the world so they could serve in the mission field. And he would do the same thing. He would rip the seats out and fill the plane with as much gas as he figured he could take off with and go to where he needed to go.
So, in the end, I realized that I was unfair when I told Gary he was an idiot. He wasn’t. He was just a man filled with love, and it was manifested in so many ways. His love for animals. His love for people. His love for life and for every day that he had. For giving his all to whoever was right in front of him, whoever God brought across his path. His love for his family. And of course, his love for his God.
And when I think about Gary’s flying exploits, I think about how he was so deft at being able to take out the seats of his airplane. He could do whatever he needed to do to make his plane functional so he could fill it with people, care packages, or gas to go across the world to serve.
And when I think about how Gary was able to empty out that plane so that he could do what God had sent him to do, I think about how he was also able to do that with himself. He was able to empty himself, strip away everything unnecessary in his life so that he could be filled with what he needed—supplies for other people, fuel to get where God needed him to go, and God’s love to share with others. And I think that’s the greatest lesson Gary taught me: to just empty out yourself so you can be filled with what God needs you to share with others. May we do the same.
Please pray for Gary’s mother Jan, his brother, Eric, his sister, Stephanie, his wife, Wendy, and his daughter, Cherise.