S.C. church reopens
An overflow crowd packed a South Carolina church where fatal shootings occurred.
CHARLESTON, S.C. — Singing, crying and clinging to each other, a grieving congregation returned to “Mother Emanuel” Sunday, determined to restore the historic church from a murder scene to a place of faith.
An overflow crowd packed Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church on Sunday, just four days after a young man spouting racist ideology came to a Bible study class and methodically killed nine people.
For some parishioners, it was too soon to return. But Felicia Breeland, a retired music teacher and thirdgeneration member of Emanuel, said she never considered staying home.
“I wanted to come,” said Breeland, 81, wearing a white dress and hat. “That gunman could not change us from coming together and having our church service.”
Security was tight; police officers were stationed inside and around the church. Backpacks and cameras weren’t allowed inside. A quiet crowd climbed the stairs of the historic church and sat fanning themselves in the summer heat.
Under stained-glass windows and murals of the crucifixion and the resurrection, the Rev. Norvel Goff, elder pastor, began the service with a call to rejoice, as the crowd stood and clapped. He choked back tears as he read the names of the nine victims.
“I am reminded this morning about the freshness of death, (which) comes like a thief in the night,” Goff said. “Many of our hearts are breaking. Many of us are still shedding tears.”
“Amen!” the congregants replied.
“But no demon on Earth can close the doors of God’s church,” he said.
The service was another step toward recovery for the shocked city. At 10 a.m., church bells rang throughout Charleston, known as the “Holy City” because of its many churches, and across the state of South Carolina. Charleston Mayor Joe Riley and Gov. Nikki Haley sat in front at the church.
Once the sanctuary was full, people were ushered downstairs to the paneled fellowship hall — the same room where the Rev. Clementa Pinckney and eight others were shot Wednesday night. There, the overflow crowd watched the service on a monitor.
Several hundred people also filled the street outside the church, sweating in the summer sun and listening to the service on loudspeakers. There were curious tourists and others who listened intensely, raising their hands in prayer.
“They were in the house of the Lord studying your word, but the devil also entered,” the Rev. John Gillison, presiding elder, said. “The devil cannot be in control of your church.”
Emanuel member Kay Hightower, whose greatgrandfather was a pastor at the historic church, said she stayed overnight at a hotel to be sure she would get to the service on time. But when she arrived, she paused: The door she usu- ally entered was the one that the gunman had used. She went through it. She passed through the fellowship hall, wary of bullet holes and other signs of the slayings, but saw none.
“We’re not letting anybody take us out, claim the church,” she said.
AME member Reba Martin said her teary moment came when she thought about Pinckney, the first person to die. “When he came, the church population was down, and he would always be so positive,” she said. “He said one day I’m going to see this church full. There won’t be an empty seat in the house. And today was that day. And I’m sure he did see it.”
People who typically attend the Wednesday night Bible study spoke of close calls. Brenda Nelson left Bible study early because her air conditioner broke and she had to meet the repairman, another member said. Thomas Rose, 66, who said he grew up in the church as had generations of his family before him, said he usually attends, but Wednesday his wife took him to pray at a sister church instead.
“They were all my family,” Rose said.
Some relatives of those killed sat near the front of the church. Jamila Gadsden lost her aunt, Myrna Thompson. Gadsden said her aunt “loved God and left here doing what she loved.”
“We are very forgiving,” Gadsden continued. “But we will not forget.”
Many visitors at the service were white, but members said that was not uncommon in the historic church.
Lucinda Magwood, 60, a registered nurse, sat next to a stranger: Kathie Corley, 69, a flutist and former member of the church. Magwood is black, Corley white. Corley explained that she was welcomed at the church and wasn’t surprised that the accused shooter, Dylann Roof, was too.
After the service, the crowd outside broke into “Amazing Grace.”
“I think it was a good beginning of healing,” said Breeland. “It’s going to take awhile. It’s going to take awhile.”