I’m glad I went

Before I get into it, I wanted to share this photo I took, after doing the evening outside cat feeding.

Nice to see them using the insulated box nest. Poor Eye Baby is looking gross, but at least his eyes didn’t glue shut again! Earlier, when I was topping up their food, he actually came over for pets. It was really, really warm in there, too. But then, it was also warm enough outside that I didn’t bother wearing a jacket, even when I stopped to shovel some snow.

I’m certainly glad we had such a mild day. The de-consecration service for our little church had to be done outside, because there was no room for everyone, inside. Not that were were a lot of people. Maybe 20? 25? However, it’s not like anyone could have used the pews or anything.

I got there early, so that I could take photos of videos. The front doors no longer had a board across them, so after I went around the outside, I checked, and the doors were unlocked. I’m not sure they even can be locked anymore.

So I went inside, rather carefully. I didn’t know how much fire damage there was to the floors. With some of the windows boarded up, some areas were just too dark for the camera on my phone, and it doesn’t allow the “flashlight” to be on while taking video.

I was finishing up when I heard the first vehicles showing up.

It was our vandal and his wife, plus our mutual neighbour.

I went to talk to our neighbour while they were turning their car around the back. I wanted to make sure they wouldn’t leave because of me.

Well, I got a surprise from our neighbour. I’d sent him a message after seeing him briefly and let him know what my mother said about the soup drop off, because of the messages she heard our vandal leave on my brother’s voicemail. I didn’t tell him the contents of the messages; only that he’d said some pretty vile things about me and my daughter. It was just an FYI. Mostly, I was telling him I was happy to see him, even briefly.

When I asked to make sure they wouldn’t leave because of me, he just lit into me. Apparently, my message to him was “vile” (if he thought that was vile, the things our vandal said about me and my daughters would give him a heart attack!). He basically just verbally barfed all over me, and wouldn’t let me get a word in edge wise.

Very much like what our vandal does, in fact.

While he was doing that, our vandal and his wife went into the church, but they could hear what he was saying. He didn’t stop until other people started showing up.

I’m saddened that this happened. Clearly, he’s been dragged into the middle of something that he shouldn’t have any part in, but he was also basically repeating our vandal’s favourite victimhood lines – and he is only getting one side of the story. At one point, he was saying he’s seen all this evolve over the years I was living in other provinces and knows how all this started. I said, maybe we could get together and you can tell me, because we have no idea. I don’t think he heard me over himself.

Ah, well.

As more people arrived, I went into the church again. Everyone was looking around and taking pictures. There was a particular wall hanging I asked about, as it was no longer where it used to be, but no one knew where it went. Later, I heard someone call down from the choir loft to tell me it was up there. I hadn’t tried to go up there, as I didn’t know if the very steep, already dangerous stairs were safe. They’re more like climbing a ladder, with the rungs much wider apart.

I remember being up there with the “choir” as a child. The space is insanely tiny, yet somehow people got a pump organ up there. That antique went to someone else, long ago, so it was not there to be damaged by the fire. The church bell used to be in the ceiling up there, too, until people realized it was barely supported. A simple steel frame bell tower was made for it outside, and it’s still there.

When the priest arrived and it was time to start, he suggested we gather around outside, due to the lack of space. I was able to get video of the entire service for my mother, without being obtrusive. The priest shared some interesting historical information about how churches get consecrated, and traditions surrounding the process.

Now that I think about it, I really shouldn’t call this a de-consecration service. It was a sort of closing service. At the end of it, he explained what will happen next.

Everything in the church that can be burned, will be burned, as that is the proper and respectful way to disposed of things that are consecrated. The things that cannot be burned will be buried in the church cemetery, which is maybe half a mile away. A model of the church will be built and set up there, too.

The bell and its tower will also be moved to the cemetery. There is a statue of Mary outside as well. This was installed at a time when it was very popular to mount statues, crosses, etc. on large concrete bases that were decorated by pressing stones into the concrete, sometimes in shapes or words. This one also has a wider base forming a couple of steps, with larger stones embedded into the sides. I asked about it, and was told it was not yet decided what would happen to it. The statue itself is damaged, with missing hands. If it can be repaired and restored, it will also be moved to the cemetery. If not, it will be buried, because it, too, was consecrated.

After the service, everyone gathered for a group photo. Then the bell was rung a few times, including by the priest. Then we all went back into the church and looked around some more. We were allowed to collect mementos, if we wanted. For my mother, I took one of the Stations of the Cross plaques from the wall next to what was our family pew, and one of the votive candle holders from the stand where people could light a candle and say a prayer.

When I was an altar server here as a child, we would get ready and put on our cassocks in a tiny room near the back door of the church. Then, just before service started, we could go across, behind the altar, to join the priest in the tiny room he got prepared in, before coming out in procession. The fire was started by the back door, and that room was the most badly damaged. Completely gutted and destroyed. In the priest’s preparation room, there was some fire damage near the open doorway, but mostly it was smoke damage.

I was looking around in there with someone when I spotted something else from my childhood. Basically, a metal box with legs, and a top that could be raised to different angles, to rest a Bible on while being read from during services. It was a fancy one used for special occasions. (There was a plain wooden one for regular use.) It was still at its lowest setting, with a crochet doily on top. The doily was badly smoke damaged, and when I took it off, it’s pattern was left on the metal surface, where it protected it from smoke.

Smoke damage was pretty much it, for the stand. I ended up taking it as my own memento.

I also took the chance and went up into the choir loft. I saw the framed piece I’d been asking about, and it was quite badly damaged. I didn’t dare go too much further in, and it had been tucked behind the single pew up there.

Someone did take it down, though, and as I was getting ready to leave, I saw it in the entry. My cousin and her husband were there and we talked about it. I told them about how it was a donation from an uncle (not really an uncle, but a relative of my dad’s). They encouraged me to take it, but I told them I knew I wouldn’t be in a position to restore it, so I would rather it went to someone who could.

I think they ended up taking it!

Someone else took a framed print of the Last Supper my mother donated – her name was even on the back of it!

If I stayed too much longer, though, I knew I would have started loading up the truck. There were so many memories in there! Perhaps I’ll go back soon, after everyone else has taken what they want, and see what is left. I don’t think the actual dismantling and burning of the building and items will happen until spring, at the earliest. As I was leaving, though, I did see someone backing their truck up to the front doors. I think they were planning to take some pews.

As for the plot the building is on, there is talk of selling it. It would be a shame, but we just don’t have the population to support a church anymore.

With all of this going on, I even managed to ask some questions of our vandal, as he seems to be pretty involved with the stuff, and he even answered me, if briefly.

We shall see what comes of it.

Meanwhile, I will probably put together a movie and upload it, so that I can show it all to my mother. I had to take the videos off my phone, because they take up too much memory, and my phone doesn’t have the ability to add a micro SD, like my old one did.

I will also clean the items I got for her. She doesn’t have a lot of space, so I only got the two small items. The glass votive holder will be easy enough to clean, but the Station of the Cross plaque is a combination of ceramic on wood, and will need more care. As for the metal book stand, I’m going to have to do some more research on how to clean that. It has some pretty intricate designs on the sides in the metal, plus fake gems embedded in places. It’s going to need some very careful and meticulous cleaning.

I won’t be sharing any images or video here, though. Unfortunately, I still need to keep this blog anonymous, and these things are just too publicly recognizable.

Ah, well.

So while there were a few uncomfortable moments, I’m glad I went. This church was a big part of our community for a long time, and is full of history and personal memories. Such a shame, to lose it like this. But, as the priest said, the church is not really a building. We are the church. And we live on.

The Re-Farmer

2 thoughts on “I’m glad I went

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