Diane Glancy - One of Us

By

Diane Glancy

M ention Jesus, and some people want to leave the room. Mention a church in Kansas where a man who was president of the congregation murdered ten people, and the people might stay.

I was in Richmond, Kentucky, on the weekend of February , 2005 , when CNN announced the arrest of the man who called himself BTK: Bind, Torture, Kill. When I saw Reverend Michael Clark, the pastor of Christ Lutheran Church in Wichita, standing before news reporters, stunned that BTK was a member of his congregation, the questions appeared: How does a minister deal with a murderer in his own congregation? What is the nature of evil? What is our resilience to it? How far can a Christian go and still be a Christian? What is the definition of a Christian? Why Christianity?

I have written as an outsider to the event. I am interested in a work of imagination for the purpose of exploring issues. I used the arrest of BTK as the triggering event. The method of arresta disk from the church computerand the murder of ten people are the same, but the story is its own.

In the process of writing, I found the story slicing between the voices of Mark and Grace Cabot, the minister of Christ Church and his wife, as well as the voices of Ralph and Zelda Gheary, the youth and assistant minister and his wife. Everyone wanted a turn, trying to speak before the others. Twice I let Thomas Fout, the murderer, speak. And once, the demons.

I was at my desk with my sermon notes when the church secretary opened my office door without knocking. I had heard a car drive up, but hadnt paid attention. Three men stood before me. The door remained open. I knew they were authorities of some sort. I stood, confused. They had a disk from a computer they thought belonged to the church. They had questions. Who had the disk belonged to? Who made the list of church duties?

It looks like one of our discs, but theyre standard

Other men came into the secretarys office and unplugged the computer. They would have to take it with them. They unplugged mine also. I saw there was a van in the church drive as well as the sheriffs car. Was the church under arrest?

Who used the computer for this list? the men asked.

I recognized the duties immediately. I gave them his name. They finished packing the equipment they needed and left.

I called Grace, my wife, and told her something was up, but I didnt know what. The men had asked that I not say anything.

The authorities returned. I saw they were from federal as well as state agencies. How well did I know Thomas Fout?

Ive been his pastor several years. He was here when I came.

Did he have access to the church computers?

Yes.

They said they were certain that Thomas Fout was the man who had murdered ten people over a period of years.

My secretary wept in a way I had not seen her weep in all the years I had known her, not even at the death of her parents.

I called the bishop when the authorities left.

I called my wife again on her cell phone. I told her not to answer questionsnot to let anyone in the house. Not to say anything on the phone. She wasnt home anyway, she said.

I asked about our daughter.

Clares at school, of course, then shes going to a friends house.

I drove to the Fouts place. The street was blocked. Id never seen more state and city vehicles. Reporters and camera vans continued to arrive. People gathered outside the crime-scene tape that blocked off the street. I could show them I was a pastor. The Fouts pastor. I could get through. But I backed away.

I returned to the church and closed the door of my office to pray, but I was soon interrupted with calls. One of them was my friend and a member of my congregation, Roy Saith. I asked him to stay with Grace and Clare when they got home. Already there were calls from church members. Was it true? Yes. How could it be true? I didnt know. I told my secretary to leave a message on the answering machine that I would meet with reporters after the authorities made their official announcement. I told her to call Ralph Gheary, the youth minister who also served as my assistant. He was in Elwood at the funeral of his wifes grandmother. Then I told my secretary to go home.

The announcement was televised the next day. I knew Ralph had returned without Zelda, but now she was with him. Families of the victims sat in the courthouse to hear that at last the murderer of their relatives had been caught. At last, the police and agents were sure. They had felt sure the last time they arrested someone. But now they were sure again. This time they had DNA evidence.

The bishop arrived that evening. We would meet the reporters at the church tomorrow afternoon.

Grace seemed to be holding up.

I called Ruth Fout all evening until I got through. A man answered, a relative I didnt know. The family was gathering. A brother had been called from Iraq. Would they like for me to come to the house? No, Ruth was resting in her room. A doctor had been to the house to see her.

W e were at the gate of the cemetery when my cell phone rang. It was Christ Church in Buckholt, Kansas, where I was assistant minister. Thomas Fout had been arrested. A member of our church had been arrested for murder. Multiple murders. A murderer who had beenwho still waspresident of the congregation of Christ Church. What was it that I felt? Disbelief? No, I knew immediately. It was anger over the interruption in the way I planned my ministry.

We followed the hearse into the Elwood, Kansas, cemetery for the internment of my wifes grandmother. I held the cell phone so Zelda could hear. I didnt know what to say, other than to give voice to my disbelief. Anger would come to Zelda also, I knew already. Was this a trick of God on usthis leading us to a church that lodged a murderer? I felt betrayed. Just a few months ago, we had arrived at Christ Church in Buckholt to begin our lives together as the new assistant pastor and his new wife.