Church Fire

"It's a living thing. It breathes, it eats and it hates. The only way to beat it is to think like it. To know that this flame will spread this way…not because of the physics of flammable liquids, but because it wants to…The only way to kill it is to love it a little." - "Shadow" Rimgale in the movie "Backdraft" 

I have passed by the old First Methodist Church, then Sanctuary of the Holy Spirit, on the corner of Center and Candler Streets nearly every day for the past 22 years. The lovely old majestic structure is a few blocks from my house and is on my path to almost anywhere and back home again. Now it is gone - destroyed by a ravenous fire that is believed to have been started by the brief and vicious lightning storm that happened around 10:30 p.m. last Thursday night.    

We were watching a movie, but paused it to go outside and marvel at the lightning. A few minutes later we heard sirens, so went outside again. The street was filled with thick gray smoke; something big was on fire. Clad in pajamas and slippers, I grabbed my camera and headed for the fire. My plan was to stay in the shadows, catch a few shots of whatever was going on then return home to the movie. As I neared the old church I could see thick, dark brown smoke pouring from the crack between the walls of the side towers and the sanctuary. It didn't look bad and there were a lot of firefighters and equipment on the scene, so I figured they'd have it handled in no time.   

By the time I rounded the corner of Center and Candler Streets I could see the fire licking at the stained glass windows in the front of the church. A few moments later, tendrils of flame began peering up over the roof line. There were two pumper trucks, one on either side of the church, pouring a torrent of water onto the fire. Firefighters from Winder and Barrow County had multiple hoses aimed at the structure, but it became clear very quickly that this fire's intent was to burn out of control.

As I moved around the scene, staying in the shadows and out of the firefighters' way, I marveled at how quickly and quietly they moved, in unison, with minimal talk and no drama. It was as if they were all reading from the same script, a script they had rehearsed so many times that when it came time to perform, their stage being this horrific fire, they knew exactly what to do and they did it without pause or hitch. There were men on hoses and men on the ground. A couple of men manned the well-lit equipment panel on each pumper truck; a few more, dressed in full firefighting regalia, hovered at the bottom of the ladders on the pumper trucks, waiting to do whatever it is firefighters do from high above the fire.   

The fire spread so quickly. Within minutes it blasted the stained glass windows out of the church and was chewing on the thick, once ornately-carved front doors. What once had been the sanctuary was now a bright yellow inferno. The flames grew taller and taller, engulfing the roof and reaching high, high into the sky. It became obvious the fire was going to destroy the building - it already had. In what seemed like only a few more minutes, the attention shifted to containing the flames and protecting the structures nearby.

The firefighters continued to work quietly and efficiently, without pause. An eerie yellow-orange light from the flames illuminated everything within a block or two. It looked like a movie set and reminded me of "Backdraft," a 1991 movie about fire and firefighters that has always been a favorite of mine. Only this was no movie set; the heat bellowing out of the building reminded us of that, as it blasted our faces and shot out into the night.

Bystanders gathered, but seemed so startled and mesmerized by the fire's voracious dance they remained quiet, humbled, respectful. No one even tried to sneak past the Winder Police officers who guarded the scene. I was as mesmerized as everyone else, standing across the street from the front of the church, watching it burn, burn, burn. The two towers fell, as the flames continued to engulf the sanctuary and reach to the sky. It was as if that fire couldn't get its fill; it just kept eating and growing and eating and growing.

The smoke was also quite eerie. It hovered and swirled, slithered and danced like a “Smoke Monster” on TV; it was as if it had a life of its own. It was so vicious and vital, at times, I swear, it looked like it had evil yellow eyes.

I went home before the fire finished its nasty work. I couldn't bear to watch the destruction anymore. As I walked, tears welled up in my eyes, which surprised me. It wasn't my church; I'd never even set foot inside. It was, however, such a beautiful old structure, only recently, so painstakingly and lovingly restored by the congregation of the Sanctuary of the Holy Spirit…Imagine all the tears, prayers, hopes and fears that have hovered between those walls since it was built in 1904…Weddings, funerals, christenings and celebrations…God’s energy, love, light and blessings, comforting and touching so many…and now it’s gone.

There’s no explaining why lighting strikes a historic and holy place like that; but it did. May the memories of all that happened in that church comfort those who will miss it so sadly. I will try to focus on that as I drive by it’s sad shell. Loving memories…sometimes that has to be enough.