people of Centralia gather with their

children and grandchildren, singing

and praying, and, when Mass is over,

sitting in the pews with coffee and

doughnuts and talking.

“Comforting is a good word for it.

It’s like your old couch,” said Mayer-

nick. “Everything’s peaceful.”

And for those few hours, as Mayer-

nick and Mushalko and Father Hutsko

and the others worship and chat, it

won’t just be the Gospel that lives.

It will be Gert’s candy store that lives.

And Bill’s pizza shop. And the sledding

hill known as Rae’s, the swimming hole

known as the Townie, and the music

joint called the Hop where the Jordan

Brothers used to play.

The fire that killed the town is still

burning, but as long as the church

stands, Centralia will continue to rise

above the ashes.

A

Message

from a

Mermaid

By Margo Pfeiff

R

Rhonda Gill froze as she heard her

four-year-old daughter, Desiree, sob-

bing quietly in the family room that

morning in October 1993. Rhonda

tiptoed through the doorway. The tiny

child was hugging a photograph of her

father, who had died nine months ear-

lier. Rhonda, 24, watched as Desiree

gently ran her fingers around her fa-

ther’s face. “Daddy,” she said softly,

“why won’t you come back?”

The petite brunette college student

felt a surge of despair. It had been hard

enough coping with the death of her

With no more traffic in town, artists

have reclaimed the main road.

Reader’s Digest Cover Story

courtesy bill hangley jr.

64 dec 2018 )jan 2019 | rd.com