The Church Fire

There was a fire in Zipperfinch Lake last night. The non-denominational First United Church of the Second Coming burned to the ground. The fire reportedly began when a church member accidentally dropped a votive candle she'd lit to honor Saint Bernard of Dog, the church's patron saint of animals. Someone said she was lighting it in remembrance of her deceased Pomeranian, Snappy, who'd been devoured by an irate giant frog back in 1999.

The fire was out of control within a few minutes and most of the people in town had gathered to watch the spectacle. The last people to receive word of the fire and the last people to arrive were members of the Zipperfinch Lake Volunteer Fire Department. The firefighters were finally located and informed of the blaze while holding their weekly meeting at the Zipperfinch Lake Bar and Grill. By the time they arrived at the scene, it was too late for them to do anything except to open up a beer and watch it burn.

The fire turned into a major event and people danced around the blaze until someone broke out the hot dogs and marshmallows. Even Elvis, a local resident, got into the act by strumming his guitar and singing Kumbaya. The fire died out early in the morning and people wandered away toward their homes with the peaceful chords of Kumbaya still floating through the night air.

The church had humble beginnings in 1924. An itinerant preacher named Leroy Gantry was passing through and noticed that the local residents were badly in need of redemption and salvation. He also thought that there seemed to be many cases of demonic possession. He didn't realize at the time that the behavior he was observing in the citizens of the town was normal for most of the people in this part of the upper peninsula of Michigan. Reverend Leroy, as he was referred to by most of the members of his congregation, rented a barn on the outskirts of town upon his arrival at Zipperfinch Lake and there he began his ministry.

The Reverend worked for many months trying to free the spirits of the few residents who happened to wander into his place of worship. He held a membership drive after seeing that his church wasn't prospering the way he thought it should. Leroy went out among the townspeople and tried to convince as many of them as possible to attend his church so he could free them from Satan. Most of the citizens took him for a crackpot and declined his invitation.

It was late in the fall of 1924 that Leroy Gantry achieved his largest success at dramatically increasing participation in his church services. During a Sunday vesper service and unbeknownst to Leroy, a local operator of an illegal distillery spiked the communion wine with 180 proof alcohol. The handful of people that were attending that particular service got back in line to receive communion numerous times. Preacher Gantry assumed that his efforts were finally beginning to have an effect on some of the people of the town.

The following day, word spread quickly among the citizenry that Leroy's ministry was improving immensely, especially the communion service. Many of the more frequent communion participants at the service reported that God had actually spoken to them in their sleep during the night. One of the imbibers, a middle-aged gentleman, reported that he hadn't spoken with God but that a giant 20 foot Roman Centurion had appeared to him and threatened to take him to the coliseum where he'd be thrown to the lions. Townspeople dismissed this story as nothing out of the ordinary.

Leroy's congregation mushroomed after these reports. Membership in the church grew to immense proportions. The more often the churchgoers participated in communion, the more money they placed in the collection plate. In the spring of 1925, Leroy began construction of the large, new church and he moved his services there in September and it had stood for all these years.

Soon after the funeral of the local distiller of illegal whisky, church members lost interest in participating in communion and membership in the congregation began to dwindle. The reports of conversations with God rapidly disappeared. Within a month of the distiller's death, however, membership in the church shot back up again. There were more than a few reports that Leroy Gantry knew the secret almost from the beginning and began spiking the wine himself.

The Reverend Gantry passed away peacefully in his sleep in his bed in his hilltop mansion that overlooks the lake in 1974. His ministry was ably taken over by his son, Junior Gantry, who also must have known the secret.

Now the historical church that Leroy Gantry built and has stood as a shining symbol near the center of town for all these years is no more.