Later that day, back in Arua, a shot up vehicle was brought into town. It belonged to another relief organization. The driver was wounded and in the hospital. Some of our friends knew I had been headed to Kampala that morning and want to be sure I was ok. So they came into the compound in a rush asking my wife about me and if she had heard about the shot up truck.
The thing was, no one knew what had happened to me. My wife was suddenly very scared. In those days, there was no cell service until just north of Kampala.
Our driver/mechanic Abas saw how worried everyone was and decided to find out on his own what had happened. He knew that everyday buses would travel north from Kampala to Arua and would have to pass me along the way.
Abas went to the bus station and talked with all of the drivers until he found one that remembered seeing my blue truck. Rushing home he told my wife that I was safe.
I didn't find out until that night how close I had been. I was the last vehicle to get through. The two vehicles behind me were attacked. My guess is that the rebels knew what time the gates opened and timed their ambush to hit the first vehicles through. I had given the lift to the park ranger... and that had bought me the extra ten minutes.