David Lu's (
Once a member of the Bamboo Union (
PHOTO: DIANA FREUNDL, TAIPEI TIIMES
By 15, Lu had caused enough distress to his family and his central-Taiwan hometown of Wugu (
His talents were immediately put to use as a debt collector for the Bamboo Union. "I was very good at this job. I loved fighting and I loved money even more. I would tell my bodyguard to take me to a gambling house or brothel so I could borrow money."
"Borrow," Lu said, laughing, "that's what we called it, but of course we never paid it back."
His career ended early in 1974, when he was arrested for robbery at 19 and sentenced to five years in a reformatory. But no reform took place there, as Lu swapped contact information and tips with inmates.
"It's like a criminal middle school. In prison you share tips about how not to get caught next time," he said.
Lu also taught himself English and Japanese because, in his words, "all professional hit men speak Japanese and English."
In 1977, less than three years into his sentence, he escaped and returned to Taipei. A wanted criminal with a NT$300,000 reward being offered for his capture, Lu was promoted to a senior position within his old gang. Hungering for wealth and power, he purchased a rifle that he claims to have only fired three times, once severely injuring a man. His record for armed robbery is lengthy and brutal, but he has never been charged with murder.
In the same year, Lu was arrested and sent back to prison. Shortly after, he was tried and convicted of kidnapping and robbery, a crime he claims to have never committed. Facing a 14-year sentence, Lu's only thoughts were of escape.
"The first time I escaped, I only had three years left; now I had 14. How could I do it? It was the worst time of my life. All I thought about how I was going to get out of there," he said.
To pass time, he befriended a powerful gang member nicknamed Achilles. Lu's job was to write letters to Achilles' five wives, but one day Lu received a letter addressed to him. It was a letter from Ruth Chen (
In the beginning he disregarded Chen's religious propaganda and was content to have any female correspondence. A year and 200 letters (from Chen) later, something changed. Achilles died and Lu was reborn.
"He [Achilles] was so powerful. I watched him walk in and within a year, he was carried out. His death shocked me. And I started to think about my life."
The loss of his mentor left a gap filled quickly by religion. Through his correspondence with Chen, his interest in Christianity increased and, before he knew it, he was making a deal with God.
"I said, `God if you set me free from this prison, I will serve you.'"
It took a year, but Lu's prayer was answered. During a retrial he was found innocent of kidnapping and the charges were dropped. Two years later, in 1979, he was released on bail.
A man of his word, Lu joined the Christian Disciple Training Institute (
Two children and 10 years later, Lu returned to Taiwan to make amends with his victims. The most difficult was the mother of a childhood neighbor, a man he almost beat to death. "I was bad. I kicked his head and jumped on him. There was so much blood and his mother just stood there screaming, begging me to stop. Now I was returning as a pastor."
After having the door slammed in his face several times, Lu was finally allowed inside to apologize. Before he left town, he had converted the whole family and opened a small community church.
On a mission to convert the masses, Lu has opened 35 churches in Taiwan and converted thousands. His biggest project is prison. Through letters and weekly visits, Lu has converted 3,000 prisoners, 150 of whom were previously gang members.
He even attempted to convert his former boss, the Bamboo Union leader, Chen Qi-li (
With Lu's colorful past, there will always be those who refuse to believe him. But it is something he has come to terms with.
"They say a leopard can't change its spots. Now it is my responsibility to prove them wrong," Lu said.
July 28 to Aug. 3 Former president Chiang Kai-shek (蔣介石) reportedly maintained a simple diet and preferred to drink warm water — but one indulgence he enjoyed was a banned drink: Coca-Cola. Although a Coca-Cola plant was built in Taiwan in 1957, It was only allowed to sell to the US military and other American agencies. However, Chiang’s aides recall procuring the soft drink at US military exchange stores, and there’s also records of the Presidential Office ordering in bulk from Hong Kong. By the 1960s, it wasn’t difficult for those with means or connections to obtain Coca-Cola from the
Fifty-five years ago, a .25-caliber Beretta fired in the revolving door of New York’s Plaza Hotel set Taiwan on an unexpected path to democracy. As Chinese military incursions intensify today, a new documentary, When the Spring Rain Falls (春雨424), revisits that 1970 assassination attempt on then-vice premier Chiang Ching-kuo (蔣經國). Director Sylvia Feng (馮賢賢) raises the question Taiwan faces under existential threat: “How do we safeguard our fragile democracy and precious freedom?” ASSASSINATION After its retreat to Taiwan in 1949, the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) regime under Chiang Kai-shek (蔣介石) imposed a ruthless military rule, crushing democratic aspirations and kidnapping dissidents from
Taiwan is today going to participate in a world-first experiment in democracy. Twenty-four Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) lawmakers will face a recall vote, with the results determining if they keep their jobs. Some recalls look safe for the incumbents, other lawmakers appear heading for a fall and many could go either way. Predictions on the outcome vary widely, which is unsurprising — this is the first time worldwide a mass recall has ever been attempted at the national level. Even meteorologists are unclear what will happen. As this paper reported, the interactions between tropical storms Francisco and Com-May could lead to
It looks like a restaurant — but it’s food for the mind. Kaohsiung’s Pier-2 Art Center is currently hosting Comic Bento (漫畫便當店), an immersive and quirky exhibition that spotlights Taiwanese comic and animation artists. The entire show is designed like a playful bento shop, where books, plushies and installations are laid out like food offerings — with a much deeper cultural bite. Visitors first enter what looks like a self-service restaurant. Comics, toys and merchandise are displayed buffet-style in trays typically used for lunch servings. Posters on the walls present each comic as a nutritional label for the stories and an ingredient