No one knows exactly when Danville volunteers started putting together Thanksgiving food boxes for struggling families.

Annette Worthy knows it’s been at least 10 years. She and her husband Duane Worthy, both of Danville, have been helping out for at least that long. Dianna Klaus, who heads up the operation every year, said it might have been even longer.

“We are a well-oiled machine,” Klaus said.

That machine chugged to life in local grocery stores earlier this month. Annette Worthy usually does all the shopping herself, but was unable to make it out this year due to a hospital stay.&nbsp;

So she commissioned a couple of other members who had to deal with annoying but never catastrophic food shortages.

The biggest crisis was a shortage of turkey gravy, which required an emergency phone call to Worthy in the hospital. Since the committee was already considering changing to hams this year, disaster was averted.

On Sunday evening, members of the committee gathered for an annual Thanksgiving church service at First Baptist Church. The service is rotated around to each of the five churches every year.

“We just wanted to help people who needed it,” Klaus said.

<figure>
 <img src="https://d2eftiauov6o73.cloudfront.net/public/2022/11/1669398558510.jpeg" alt="Volunteer Duane Worthy of Danville loads boxes with food to distribute to families for Thanksgiving.&nbsp; Worthy is part of the Danville Food Outreach Community.&nbsp; Photo/William Smith" />
 <figcaption>Volunteer Duane Worthy of Danville loads boxes with food to distribute to families for Thanksgiving.&nbsp; Worthy is part of the Danville Food Outreach Community.&nbsp; Photo/William Smith</figcaption>
 </figure>By Beacon StaffNo one knows exactly when Danville volunteers started putting together Thanksgiving food boxes for struggling families.Annette Worthy knows it’s been at least 10 years. She and her husband Duane Worthy, both of Danville, have been helping out for at least that long. Dianna Klaus, who heads up the operation every year, said it might have been even longer.“We are a well-oiled machine,” Klaus said.That machine chugged to life in local grocery stores earlier this month. Annette Worthy usually does all the shopping herself, but was unable to make it out this year due to a hospital stay.&nbsp;So she commissioned a couple of other members who had to deal with annoying but never catastrophic food shortages.The biggest crisis was a shortage of turkey gravy, which required an emergency phone call to Worthy in the hospital. Since the committee was already considering changing to hams this year, disaster was averted.On Sunday evening, members of the committee gathered for an annual Thanksgiving church service at First Baptist Church. The service is rotated around to each of the five churches every year.“We just wanted to help people who needed it,” Klaus said.<figure>
 <img src="https://d2eftiauov6o73.cloudfront.net/public/2022/11/1669398721664.jpeg" alt="Volunteers load up Thanksgiving food boxes for families in Danville. Photo/William Smith" />
 <figcaption>Volunteers load up Thanksgiving food boxes for families in Danville. Photo/William Smith</figcaption>
 </figure>

Full stomachs, full hearts

A band is as much a state of mind as it is a collection of musicians.

The Burlington/Fort Madison-based band Ghost of Judas, founded in 2015, has changed over the past few years. Drummer Jason Sink, the only remaining original band member, transformed a sparsely-booked heavy metal band into one of the most in-demand cover bands on the local circuit.

“We were a hard metal band, kind of. We were just a bunch of guys jamming around,” Sink said. “I wanted to take it a different direction and stop playing stuff that nobody wanted to hear. I like metal. But it just doesn’t pay.”&nbsp;

Sink recruited lead singer Curry Bernard, who shared his straightforward vision for the band — cover beloved songs that everyone can enjoy, and play at least one gig (usually several) every weekend.

“I got a hold of Curry one night when I was bouncing at the bar,” Sink said, noting that Bernard joined the band in 2017.

The duo hooked up with guitarist Dom Jones (formerly of Money Shot) and bassist Adam Kurtz, who parted ways with the band recently.

Though they all have day jobs, the band members treat the weekend jobs as seriously as their primary occupations — they just have a lot more fun.&nbsp;

“We put butts in seats, quite honestly,” Bernard said.

They quickly became one of the hardest working cover bands in southeast Iowa, going from roughly 20 shows a year to 76 shows last year, including back-to-back-to-back performances across three counties (and two states) in 28 hours.

Bernard and his fellow band members described the marathon with pride, not forgetting the exhaustion. The weekend began with a Friday night gig in Keithsburg, Ill. They finished up at 1 a.m. Saturday, took a few hours to break down and haul away the equipment, arriving back home around 4 a.m.

They were back up for a noon charity gig at Heartland Harley Davidson in Burlington and didn’t leave the stage until 6 p.m. Less than three hours later, they were playing another gig at Farney’s until closing time. They were too tired to haul away anything that night, and left the equipment for the next day.

“We just call it a damn good Saturday night,” Bernard said.

That work ethic hasn’t wavered, and their motivation has evolved. Ghost of Judas wants to be more than a cover band.

“It’s pretty embarrassing going to an original show and playing nothing but covers. You can’t go and open for original bands being a cover band,” Sink said.

The band sports roughly half-a-dozen original songs — some of which have already debuted on local radio.&nbsp;

They recorded at a studio in Cedar Falls, and plan on returning to cut an entire album.

While the rock songs prickle with a spiky edge, it’s far different from the band’s old sound of heavy metal covers. Bernard’s personal playlist is filled with hard metal, but he doesn’t sing that way.

“We saw a whole dynamic shift in the crowd,” Bernard said. “You go from hard-edged metal to my singing style, which is definitely different.”

The hard work hasn’t gone unnoticed, and Ghost of Judas has developed a loyal following of fans who travel an hour or more just to see them.

Superfans like Angelina Martinez — the owner of ABC Photography in Oquawka, Ill. She and her husband Ryan Ingle cover the same radius the band does, and have become good friends with the band members.

“They do it because they love it,” Martinez said.

Love was the first step in the band’s upward trajectory, and their tenacity in grinding the local music scene has maintained that momentum.

They didn’t even take a break during the COVID-19 pandemic.&nbsp;

Sink said the band lost out on a St. Patrick’s Day gig on the first day of the mandatory shutdown, but it was pretty much business as usual.

“To be honest, we only lost four gigs,” Sink said, “We just kept doing our thing.”&nbsp;

Ghost of Judas always makes their gigs. And they usually take a few new fans back with them.

“The only thing we can do is sound like us,” Bernard said.

<figure>
 <img src="https://d2eftiauov6o73.cloudfront.net/public/2022/10/1666640863278.jpeg" alt="" />
 <figcaption></figcaption>
 </figure>By William SmithA band is as much a state of mind as it is a collection of musicians.The Burlington/Fort Madison-based band Ghost of Judas, founded in 2015, has changed over the past few years. Drummer Jason Sink, the only remaining original band member, transformed a sparsely-booked heavy metal band into one of the most in-demand cover bands on the local circuit.“We were a hard metal band, kind of. We were just a bunch of guys jamming around,” Sink said. “I wanted to take it a different direction and stop playing stuff that nobody wanted to hear. I like metal. But it just doesn’t pay.”&nbsp;Sink recruited lead singer Curry Bernard, who shared his straightforward vision for the band — cover beloved songs that everyone can enjoy, and play at least one gig (usually several) every weekend.“I got a hold of Curry one night when I was bouncing at the bar,” Sink said, noting that Bernard joined the band in 2017.The duo hooked up with guitarist Dom Jones (formerly of Money Shot) and bassist Adam Kurtz, who parted ways with the band recently.Though they all have day jobs, the band members treat the weekend jobs as seriously as their primary occupations — they just have a lot more fun.&nbsp;“We put butts in seats, quite honestly,” Bernard said.They quickly became one of the hardest working cover bands in southeast Iowa, going from roughly 20 shows a year to 76 shows last year, including back-to-back-to-back performances across three counties (and two states) in 28 hours.Bernard and his fellow band members described the marathon with pride, not forgetting the exhaustion. The weekend began with a Friday night gig in Keithsburg, Ill. They finished up at 1 a.m. Saturday, took a few hours to break down and haul away the equipment, arriving back home around 4 a.m.They were back up for a noon charity gig at Heartland Harley Davidson in Burlington and didn’t leave the stage until 6 p.m. Less than three hours later, they were playing another gig at Farney’s until closing time. They were too tired to haul away anything that night, and left the equipment for the next day.“We just call it a damn good Saturday night,” Bernard said.That work ethic hasn’t wavered, and their motivation has evolved. Ghost of Judas wants to be more than a cover band.“It’s pretty embarrassing going to an original show and playing nothing but covers. You can’t go and open for original bands being a cover band,” Sink said.The band sports roughly half-a-dozen original songs — some of which have already debuted on local radio.&nbsp;They recorded at a studio in Cedar Falls, and plan on returning to cut an entire album.While the rock songs prickle with a spiky edge, it’s far different from the band’s old sound of heavy metal covers. Bernard’s personal playlist is filled with hard metal, but he doesn’t sing that way.“We saw a whole dynamic shift in the crowd,” Bernard said. “You go from hard-edged metal to my singing style, which is definitely different.”The hard work hasn’t gone unnoticed, and Ghost of Judas has developed a loyal following of fans who travel an hour or more just to see them.Superfans like Angelina Martinez — the owner of ABC Photography in Oquawka, Ill. She and her husband Ryan Ingle cover the same radius the band does, and have become good friends with the band members.“They do it because they love it,” Martinez said.Love was the first step in the band’s upward trajectory, and their tenacity in grinding the local music scene has maintained that momentum.They didn’t even take a break during the COVID-19 pandemic.&nbsp;Sink said the band lost out on a St. Patrick’s Day gig on the first day of the mandatory shutdown, but it was pretty much business as usual.“To be honest, we only lost four gigs,” Sink said, “We just kept doing our thing.”&nbsp;Ghost of Judas always makes their gigs. And they usually take a few new fans back with them.“The only thing we can do is sound like us,” Bernard said.

Keep on rocking

Kenny’s Roller Ranch — the skating rink that has helped define Burlington culture since 1928 — is up for sale.

However, owner and operator Tim Barraclough is not in a hurry to sell. He is the only full-time employee and overseeing the generations of children who skate there has been the joy of his life since he took it over in 1999.

“It isn’t that I don’t like it. It’s just time to move on,” he said. “Someone younger needs to come in and take it over. Someone who has the values that I have to keep it going.”

Barraclough put the property on the market several years ago. Although it is no longer listed in real estate advertisements, it is still for sale.&nbsp;

The property includes the nearby house where Barraclough lives, the miniature golf course behind the skating rink, and all the equipment and inventory, including the roller skates and the games.

“Everything in this building is mine. So you’re not sharing revenue with anybody. Everything that is here belongs to the rink. So when I do sell, it’s going to be a package,” he said.

Barraclough has only one condition. The new owner has to keep operating the building as a family roller rink.&nbsp;

Barraclough learned how to skate around the time he learned to walk. He said it is important to foster family-friendly entertainment for children.

“I don’t want to sell it to anyone else. We need a roller rink here. The next closest one would be in Monmouth. People go further than that. I’ve gone further than that to go skating. But the average person who lives in this town is not going to travel an hour to go skating,” Barraclough said.

Six years from now, in 2028, Kenny’s Roller Ranch will turn 100 years old. Originally called Sandy’s, the roller rink is best known to locals through longtime owner and operator the late Kenneth Hart.&nbsp;

Kenny was such a presence in the community that Barraclough left his name on the building when he purchased it in 1999.

For the 39 years prior, Hart operated Kenny’s Roller Ranch with his wife, Lucille. They purchased it from the previous owner Charles Sandy and renamed it Kenny’s Roller Ranch.

Hart established a few strict rules few dared to break. No child was allowed to leave the skating rink without an adult. Extreme misbehavior resulted in eviction from the premises.

Barraclough keeps similar rules to ensure a roller rink is a safe place for everyone. When he kicks someone out for misbehavior, it is a lifetime ban.

“If you come in and misbehave, you leave,” Barraclough said.

During the early 1960s, the Harts added batting cages and a mini-golf course to the list of offerings.&nbsp;

A decade later, the couple tore down the existing home on the premises and built a new one.&nbsp;

At about the same time, the Harts picked up the entire rink and moved it to the east, combining parking lots that used to be located on both sides of the facility.

The business was booming, but a fire in 1974 burned the entire facility to the ground. Everything the Harts had worked for was gone, and the fire proved to be a financial disaster. Rather than see the rink permanently closed, the owners and community members came together to rebuild, scooping ashes from the ground.

Kenny and Lucille sold Kenny’s Roller Ranch in 1999 to Tim and his father Joe Barraclough. Joe regularly took his family to a local roller rink in Toledo, Ohio, when Barraclough was a child and ended up running several of his own.

Joe Barraclough worked at Pullen Park Arena in Raleigh, N.C., as a teenager in the 1930s and ran roller rinks in Toledo.

“I grew up at Fun Spot (roller rink). My dad worked there. I started working there when I was in fifth grade, which was legal then. I was on the payroll. I did everything. The only thing I hadn’t done was the office,” he said.

After high school, Barraclough moved to North Carolina and took a job with a medical instrument manufacturer. He lost his job when the manufacturer closed, and he found an ad in a skating industry magazine listing Kenny’s Roller Ranch for sale.&nbsp;

Tim drove from North Carolina to Toledo, picked up his father, then the pair traveled to Burlington.

“Kenny was very impressed because we knew the skating business,” Tim said. “Dad worked in skating rinks all his life, and so have I.”

The father-son duo bought the rink in 1999, and Barraclough moved to Burlington.

If no customers show up within an hour, Barraclough closes up shop.

But he does not remember the last time he had to do that. Despite the video games, social media, and other distractions that absorb a child’s time — kids love to skate.

“We had about 40 people in here the other night, and we had 60 Saturday night,” Barraclough said.

Aside from regular skate times, the 60-by-120 maple wood floor (built in 1974) also hosts the Big River Brawlers roller derby team.&nbsp;

The group trains and practices weekly at the roller rink.

Meanwhile, Tim remains the ever-vigilant cashier, watchdog, manager, and security guard.&nbsp;

<figure>
 <img src="https://d2eftiauov6o73.cloudfront.net/public/2022/10/1665071585000.jpeg" alt="Tim Barraclough, the owner of Kenny's Roller Ranch, keeps a watchful eye on skater Izzabelle Welch, 8, as she takes part in a limbo contest. Barraclough is looking for the right buyer to purchase the business. Photo/John Lovretta" />
 <figcaption>Tim Barraclough, the owner of Kenny's Roller Ranch, keeps a watchful eye on skater Izzabelle Welch, 8, as she takes part in a limbo contest. Barraclough is looking for the right buyer to purchase the business. Photo/John Lovretta</figcaption>
 </figure>By William SmithKenny’s Roller Ranch — the skating rink that has helped define Burlington culture since 1928 — is up for sale.However, owner and operator Tim Barraclough is not in a hurry to sell. He is the only full-time employee and overseeing the generations of children who skate there has been the joy of his life since he took it over in 1999.“It isn’t that I don’t like it. It’s just time to move on,” he said. “Someone younger needs to come in and take it over. Someone who has the values that I have to keep it going.”Barraclough put the property on the market several years ago. Although it is no longer listed in real estate advertisements, it is still for sale.&nbsp;The property includes the nearby house where Barraclough lives, the miniature golf course behind the skating rink, and all the equipment and inventory, including the roller skates and the games.“Everything in this building is mine. So you’re not sharing revenue with anybody. Everything that is here belongs to the rink. So when I do sell, it’s going to be a package,” he said.Barraclough has only one condition. The new owner has to keep operating the building as a family roller rink.&nbsp;<figure>
 <img src="https://d2eftiauov6o73.cloudfront.net/public/2022/10/1665071789443.jpeg" alt="" />
 <figcaption></figcaption>
 </figure>Barraclough learned how to skate around the time he learned to walk. He said it is important to foster family-friendly entertainment for children.“I don’t want to sell it to anyone else. We need a roller rink here. The next closest one would be in Monmouth. People go further than that. I’ve gone further than that to go skating. But the average person who lives in this town is not going to travel an hour to go skating,” Barraclough said.100 years of historySix years from now, in 2028, Kenny’s Roller Ranch will turn 100 years old. Originally called Sandy’s, the roller rink is best known to locals through longtime owner and operator the late Kenneth Hart.&nbsp;Kenny was such a presence in the community that Barraclough left his name on the building when he purchased it in 1999.For the 39 years prior, Hart operated Kenny’s Roller Ranch with his wife, Lucille. They purchased it from the previous owner Charles Sandy and renamed it Kenny’s Roller Ranch.Hart established a few strict rules few dared to break. No child was allowed to leave the skating rink without an adult. Extreme misbehavior resulted in eviction from the premises.Barraclough keeps similar rules to ensure a roller rink is a safe place for everyone. When he kicks someone out for misbehavior, it is a lifetime ban.“If you come in and misbehave, you leave,” Barraclough said.Evolution, tragedy,&nbsp;and rebirthDuring the early 1960s, the Harts added batting cages and a mini-golf course to the list of offerings.&nbsp;A decade later, the couple tore down the existing home on the premises and built a new one.&nbsp;At about the same time, the Harts picked up the entire rink and moved it to the east, combining parking lots that used to be located on both sides of the facility.The business was booming, but a fire in 1974 burned the entire facility to the ground. Everything the Harts had worked for was gone, and the fire proved to be a financial disaster. Rather than see the rink permanently closed, the owners and community members came together to rebuild, scooping ashes from the ground.From one&nbsp;rink to anotherKenny and Lucille sold Kenny’s Roller Ranch in 1999 to Tim and his father Joe Barraclough. Joe regularly took his family to a local roller rink in Toledo, Ohio, when Barraclough was a child and ended up running several of his own.Joe Barraclough worked at Pullen Park Arena in Raleigh, N.C., as a teenager in the 1930s and ran roller rinks in Toledo.“I grew up at Fun Spot (roller rink). My dad worked there. I started working there when I was in fifth grade, which was legal then. I was on the payroll. I did everything. The only thing I hadn’t done was the office,” he said.After high school, Barraclough moved to North Carolina and took a job with a medical instrument manufacturer. He lost his job when the manufacturer closed, and he found an ad in a skating industry magazine listing Kenny’s Roller Ranch for sale.&nbsp;Tim drove from North Carolina to Toledo, picked up his father, then the pair traveled to Burlington.“Kenny was very impressed because we knew the skating business,” Tim said. “Dad worked in skating rinks all his life, and so have I.”The father-son duo bought the rink in 1999, and Barraclough moved to Burlington.Rink keeps rollingIf no customers show up within an hour, Barraclough closes up shop.But he does not remember the last time he had to do that. Despite the video games, social media, and other distractions that absorb a child’s time — kids love to skate.“We had about 40 people in here the other night, and we had 60 Saturday night,” Barraclough said.Aside from regular skate times, the 60-by-120 maple wood floor (built in 1974) also hosts the Big River Brawlers roller derby team.&nbsp;The group trains and practices weekly at the roller rink.Meanwhile, Tim remains the ever-vigilant cashier, watchdog, manager, and security guard.&nbsp;He will miss it.“I love what I do,” he said.

Kenny’s keeps on rolling along

Due to his affable personality, everybody loves Joe Coleman.&nbsp;

He’s a consistent smiling face at Southeast Iowa Regional Medical Center, where he works as an environmental aid. His fellow employees already know him as one of the kindest souls on this side of existence.

But not everybody knows Joe is a checkers champion.

Coleman, who has been part of the local Midwest Magic Special Olympics team for years, won first place in the minors division of the 2022 US Open National “Albert Tucker” Championship in Vidor, Texas last month. The best checker players in the world compete at the tournament.

One of the players described Joe as “tough as a boot.”

“I always play (checkers) online every day,” Coleman said.

In congratulating Coleman on his win, USA Checkers, sponsored and supported by the American Checker Federation, said, “Joe Coleman has the love of the game, and this was well deserved. Win, lose or draw, he’s still smiling.”

The annual trip to the USA National Checker Tournament is a family adventure. His sister Kimm Coleman has been taking Joe to the tournament for the past 11 years, but Joe himself is a 15-year veteran of the event.

“There were some tears this year. My best friend goes with us to the tournament, and when she saw the trophy he got for first, she started crying. Then, I started crying, and Joe started crying,” Kimm said.

Kimm is the one who taught him to play checkers.

“I would let him win a little bit so he could like it,” Kimm said. “All of a sudden, we were playing one night, and I was just like, ‘What happened?’”

Joe had won against his sister for the first time, pulling out a flurry of criss-cross jumps that wiped out Kimm’s pieces.

“I said, ‘How did you do that?’ He said, ‘I read the book,’” Kimm said, grinning.

The siblings have been close all of their lives. Kimm is always looking out for Joe.

“She didn’t want to play me anymore,” Coleman said, his smile widening.

Joe grew up in Burlington and couldn’t walk until the age of 11. Kimm remembers him driving a big wheel as a child, which was terrifying for her. Joe could build up speed but needed work on turning.&nbsp;

“We lived on the bottom of a hill, and Joe didn’t have the cornering down yet. He would go right past the turn and ‘smack,’ ” Kimm said.

And he made up for his years of being unable to walk by developing an immediate interest in sports – particularly basketball and swimming. He even got to play with the Harlem Globetrotters once.

“He could swim before he could walk, and that was his first Special Olympics sport,” Kimm said.

Joe has been an integral part of the Midwest Magic Special Olympics team, taking on the Burlington Police Department in an annual charity basketball game. He developed a lifelong friendship with retired police officer Darren Grimshaw.

“They go out and do things, and I found out they were riding four-wheelers,” Kimm said as Joe laughed guiltily.&nbsp;

Joe has worked at the hospital since 2014 and is friends with just about everyone in the facility.

<figure>
 <img src="https://d2eftiauov6o73.cloudfront.net/public/2022/8/1661641604215.jpeg" alt="Joe Coleman" />
 <figcaption>Joe Coleman</figcaption>
 </figure>By William SmithDue to his affable personality, everybody loves Joe Coleman.&nbsp;He’s a consistent smiling face at Southeast Iowa Regional Medical Center, where he works as an environmental aid. His fellow employees already know him as one of the kindest souls on this side of existence.But not everybody knows Joe is a checkers champion.Coleman, who has been part of the local Midwest Magic Special Olympics team for years, won first place in the minors division of the 2022 US Open National “Albert Tucker” Championship in Vidor, Texas last month. The best checker players in the world compete at the tournament.One of the players described Joe as “tough as a boot.”“I always play (checkers) online every day,” Coleman said.In congratulating Coleman on his win, USA Checkers, sponsored and supported by the American Checker Federation, said, “Joe Coleman has the love of the game, and this was well deserved. Win, lose or draw, he’s still smiling.”The annual trip to the USA National Checker Tournament is a family adventure. His sister Kimm Coleman has been taking Joe to the tournament for the past 11 years, but Joe himself is a 15-year veteran of the event.“There were some tears this year. My best friend goes with us to the tournament, and when she saw the trophy he got for first, she started crying. Then, I started crying, and Joe started crying,” Kimm said.Kimm is the one who taught him to play checkers.“I would let him win a little bit so he could like it,” Kimm said. “All of a sudden, we were playing one night, and I was just like, ‘What happened?’”Joe had won against his sister for the first time, pulling out a flurry of criss-cross jumps that wiped out Kimm’s pieces.“I said, ‘How did you do that?’ He said, ‘I read the book,’” Kimm said, grinning.The siblings have been close all of their lives. Kimm is always looking out for Joe.But she does have her limits.“She didn’t want to play me anymore,” Coleman said, his smile widening.Joe grew up in Burlington and couldn’t walk until the age of 11. Kimm remembers him driving a big wheel as a child, which was terrifying for her. Joe could build up speed but needed work on turning.&nbsp;“We lived on the bottom of a hill, and Joe didn’t have the cornering down yet. He would go right past the turn and ‘smack,’ ” Kimm said.But Joe learned.&nbsp;And he made up for his years of being unable to walk by developing an immediate interest in sports – particularly basketball and swimming. He even got to play with the Harlem Globetrotters once.“He could swim before he could walk, and that was his first Special Olympics sport,” Kimm said.Joe has been an integral part of the Midwest Magic Special Olympics team, taking on the Burlington Police Department in an annual charity basketball game. He developed a lifelong friendship with retired police officer Darren Grimshaw.“They go out and do things, and I found out they were riding four-wheelers,” Kimm said as Joe laughed guiltily.&nbsp;Joe has worked at the hospital since 2014 and is friends with just about everyone in the facility.“They all love me,” Joe said.Joe loves them back.

US checkers champ is not an average Joe

William Smith The Burlington Beacon

If retired Des Moines County Sheriff Sgt. Steve Parker wore
a cowboy hat, it would be pure white. Instead, he wears a dog head and a trench
coat. 

And when he lowers his voice and adds a bit of gravel to it,
he transforms into McGruff the Crime Dog. Parker has been playing the role of
the law enforcement icon locally since 1980 — just before McGruff became
popular nationwide. 

“I’ve been McGruff for more than half my life,” Parker said.


Playing McGruff has been the joy of his life. Parker
appeared as McGruff during the National Night Out law enforcement celebration
Tuesday night (Aug. 2), shaking hands and giving children practical warnings. 

He has logged well over 5,000 appearances as McGruff since
taking on the character and was named the national voice of McGruff by the
National Crime Prevention Council in 2005. Only a handful of officers who
portray McGruff around the nation can duplicate the trademark raspy voice. 

Parker competed against eight other law enforcement officers
in front of a four-person panel to earn the honor. His take on the dog was so
close to the original he unanimously earned the honor to succeed McGruff’s
creator, Jack Keil, for television and radio ads. 

“People said it was almost impossible to tell the difference
between my McGruff voice and the original,” Parker said. 

Parker first saw the McGruff character in 1980. The service
announcement on television featured the character as part of a crime prevention
campaign by the National Crime Prevention Council. The character’s catchphrase,
“Take a bite out of crime,” stuck with Parker. 

He wanted to bring the character to Des Moines County, so he
bought some Hush Puppies and a trench coat. A woman he worked with made a paper
mache dog’s head. 

“I am told it was the first McGruff costume ever made,”
Parker said. Parker’s costume made its debut in November 1980 at Sunnyside
Elementary School. 

In 1982, the National Crime Prevention Council took over the
dog’s image and added Keil’s voice to television and radio ads. McGruff’s
popularity took off, and Parker was in demand to speak at neighborhood watch
groups, schools, and community groups. By then, he had a new costume — the one
most people are familiar with. 

“Before McGruff, people believed there was nothing they
could do to fight crime. Thanks to McGruff, a generation has learned they can
stop it,” Parker said. 

According to the National Crime Prevention Council, McGruff
was born in 1978 in an attempt to spread crime prevention information. But McGruff
wasn’t the first choice of Keil, the New York City ad executive given the task
of creating a character for the campaign. 

He made drawings of a Keystone Cops-style mutt — a beagle
that ducked into a phone booth to become “Wonder Dog.” He also drew a bulldog
with a resemblance to former FBI director J. Edgar Hoover. A Doberman character
named “Sarg” almost became the crime dog but was rejected. Finally, inspired by
the police drama “Columbo,” Keil settled on a trench coat-wearing bloodhound
who would “take a bite out of crime.” 

“The moment that head goes on, I am McGruff,” Parker said. 

Parker has always been a man of a thousand jobs and interests.
During the summer, you can see him creating balloon animals at festivals. He
acts in local plays, is a long-time substitute teacher and pastor, runs the Mr.
Frostee ice cream truck, and is a former train conductor. He helped orchestrate
the Safety Town program for years, teaching children traffic rules as they
entered kindergarten.

But he had never built a miniature grocery store before. Not
until he and the late Marvin Coon took on the project seven years ago. Coon,
who died in January of 2021, was known across southeast Iowa for building
replica jeeps, Humvees, and squad cars. 

Parker and Coon spent three months building a 1/18-scale
supermarket – similar to the one Parker worked at as a teenager. When they were
done, they entered it into several contests, including the Des Moines County
Fair. 

“My wife accused me of being infatuated,” Parker said. “I
have about 1,200 hours in it.” 

Measuring 44-inches long and 30-inches wide, the supermarket
replica is a time warp to the late 1950s. Rows of shelves hold tiny boxes of
detergent and soup cans, while a vegetable rack displays carrots, corn, and
other small greens. 

A meat counter with a glass display is next to the manager’s
office, and two cash registers in the front of the store are operated by tiny
cashiers. There’s even a magazine rack full of 1950s magazines and “TV Guide”
editions featuring “The Honeymooners.” Coon added a sign above the rack that
says, “You Read It, You Buy It.” 

“One thing that took a lot of time was the candy section,”
Parker said. “I have just about every major type of candy bar they had in the
late 1950s, like “Milkshake”, “Zagnut” and “5th Avenue.” 

His parents purchased him a basic miniature supermarket. At
the time, scale model sets of popular TV shows like “The Flintstones” and “The
Untouchables” were hot Christmas gifts. Parker worked as a produce manager for
nearly eight years before becoming a deputy and has always had a fascination
with grocery stores. 

As the store took shape, Coon told Parker it resembled the
former Hagerla’s Market, which closed in 2002. With the permission of former
store owner Mark Hagerla, Coon constructed a sign for the front of the replica
similar to the one that used to decorate the West Burlington store. 

Parker is also a bit of a magician — and a Mister Rogers
fan. He is also a puppeteer and ventriloquist and has combined those talents
into a unique blend of entertainment. 

His interest in voice-overs grew from a love of puppet shows
like Howdy Dowdy. Emulating the titular character from the PBS program, “Mister
Rogers’ Neighborhood,” Parker hosts puppet shows for area children. 

Clad in a Mister Rogers-style cardigan sweater, he creates a
familiar zone of comfort as he removes his shoes. He comforts the kids by
telling stories about himself — including how he was born — one of Parker’s
favorite tales. 

“I was born in an elevator between the fifth and sixth
floors of Mercy Hospital,” he said. “I was premature.” 

Parker became interested in ventriloquism during a church
crusade in the fourth grade. He practiced throughout elementary and high school
but became less interested as he became older. Others teased him about “playing
with dolls,” and he gave up his hobby. 

But in 1977, a puppet group was getting started in Burlington
as an outreach ministry. When Parker mentioned he was an experienced ventriloquist,
a pastor chastised him for having such a gift and not putting it to use. He
ordered a new ventriloquist dummy and again became proficient. 

Parker has a lot of heroes that contributed to his life of
kindness and fondness for children — Mister Rogers included. But that seed of
generosity, and the relentless worth ethic that keeps Parker going forward, is
firmly rooted at home. 

“My parents are my heroes,” he said. 

<figure>
 <img src="https://d2eftiauov6o73.cloudfront.net/public/2022/8/1661315870874.jpeg" alt="Retired Des Moines County Sheriff Sgt. Steve Parker flips through a photo album while reliving some of his favorite memories as the iconic McGruff, the Crime Dog. (William Smith/The Burlington Beacon)" />
 <figcaption>Retired Des Moines County Sheriff Sgt. Steve Parker flips through a photo album while reliving some of his favorite memories as the iconic McGruff, the Crime Dog. (William Smith/The Burlington Beacon)</figcaption>
 </figure>William Smith The Burlington BeaconIf retired Des Moines County Sheriff Sgt. Steve Parker wore
a cowboy hat, it would be pure white. Instead, he wears a dog head and a trench
coat. And when he lowers his voice and adds a bit of gravel to it,
he transforms into McGruff the Crime Dog. Parker has been playing the role of
the law enforcement icon locally since 1980 — just before McGruff became
popular nationwide. “I’ve been McGruff for more than half my life,” Parker said.
Playing McGruff has been the joy of his life. Parker
appeared as McGruff during the National Night Out law enforcement celebration
Tuesday night (Aug. 2), shaking hands and giving children practical warnings. He has logged well over 5,000 appearances as McGruff since
taking on the character and was named the national voice of McGruff by the
National Crime Prevention Council in 2005. Only a handful of officers who
portray McGruff around the nation can duplicate the trademark raspy voice. Parker competed against eight other law enforcement officers
in front of a four-person panel to earn the honor. His take on the dog was so
close to the original he unanimously earned the honor to succeed McGruff’s
creator, Jack Keil, for television and radio ads. “People said it was almost impossible to tell the difference
between my McGruff voice and the original,” Parker said. Parker first saw the McGruff character in 1980. The service
announcement on television featured the character as part of a crime prevention
campaign by the National Crime Prevention Council. The character’s catchphrase,
“Take a bite out of crime,” stuck with Parker. He wanted to bring the character to Des Moines County, so he
bought some Hush Puppies and a trench coat. A woman he worked with made a paper
mache dog’s head. “I am told it was the first McGruff costume ever made,”
Parker said. Parker’s costume made its debut in November 1980 at Sunnyside
Elementary School. In 1982, the National Crime Prevention Council took over the
dog’s image and added Keil’s voice to television and radio ads. McGruff’s
popularity took off, and Parker was in demand to speak at neighborhood watch
groups, schools, and community groups. By then, he had a new costume — the one
most people are familiar with. “Before McGruff, people believed there was nothing they
could do to fight crime. Thanks to McGruff, a generation has learned they can
stop it,” Parker said. According to the National Crime Prevention Council, McGruff
was born in 1978 in an attempt to spread crime prevention information. But McGruff
wasn’t the first choice of Keil, the New York City ad executive given the task
of creating a character for the campaign. He made drawings of a Keystone Cops-style mutt — a beagle
that ducked into a phone booth to become “Wonder Dog.” He also drew a bulldog
with a resemblance to former FBI director J. Edgar Hoover. A Doberman character
named “Sarg” almost became the crime dog but was rejected. Finally, inspired by
the police drama “Columbo,” Keil settled on a trench coat-wearing bloodhound
who would “take a bite out of crime.” “The moment that head goes on, I am McGruff,” Parker said. Parker has always been a man of a thousand jobs and interests.
During the summer, you can see him creating balloon animals at festivals. He
acts in local plays, is a long-time substitute teacher and pastor, runs the Mr.
Frostee ice cream truck, and is a former train conductor. He helped orchestrate
the Safety Town program for years, teaching children traffic rules as they
entered kindergarten.But he had never built a miniature grocery store before. Not
until he and the late Marvin Coon took on the project seven years ago. Coon,
who died in January of 2021, was known across southeast Iowa for building
replica jeeps, Humvees, and squad cars. Parker and Coon spent three months building a 1/18-scale
supermarket – similar to the one Parker worked at as a teenager. When they were
done, they entered it into several contests, including the Des Moines County
Fair. “My wife accused me of being infatuated,” Parker said. “I
have about 1,200 hours in it.” Measuring 44-inches long and 30-inches wide, the supermarket
replica is a time warp to the late 1950s. Rows of shelves hold tiny boxes of
detergent and soup cans, while a vegetable rack displays carrots, corn, and
other small greens. A meat counter with a glass display is next to the manager’s
office, and two cash registers in the front of the store are operated by tiny
cashiers. There’s even a magazine rack full of 1950s magazines and “TV Guide”
editions featuring “The Honeymooners.” Coon added a sign above the rack that
says, “You Read It, You Buy It.” “One thing that took a lot of time was the candy section,”
Parker said. “I have just about every major type of candy bar they had in the
late 1950s, like “Milkshake”, “Zagnut” and “5th Avenue.” His parents purchased him a basic miniature supermarket. At
the time, scale model sets of popular TV shows like “The Flintstones” and “The
Untouchables” were hot Christmas gifts. Parker worked as a produce manager for
nearly eight years before becoming a deputy and has always had a fascination
with grocery stores. As the store took shape, Coon told Parker it resembled the
former Hagerla’s Market, which closed in 2002. With the permission of former
store owner Mark Hagerla, Coon constructed a sign for the front of the replica
similar to the one that used to decorate the West Burlington store. Parker is also a bit of a magician — and a Mister Rogers
fan. He is also a puppeteer and ventriloquist and has combined those talents
into a unique blend of entertainment. His interest in voice-overs grew from a love of puppet shows
like Howdy Dowdy. Emulating the titular character from the PBS program, “Mister
Rogers’ Neighborhood,” Parker hosts puppet shows for area children. Clad in a Mister Rogers-style cardigan sweater, he creates a
familiar zone of comfort as he removes his shoes. He comforts the kids by
telling stories about himself — including how he was born — one of Parker’s
favorite tales. “I was born in an elevator between the fifth and sixth
floors of Mercy Hospital,” he said. “I was premature.” Parker became interested in ventriloquism during a church
crusade in the fourth grade. He practiced throughout elementary and high school
but became less interested as he became older. Others teased him about “playing
with dolls,” and he gave up his hobby. But in 1977, a puppet group was getting started in Burlington
as an outreach ministry. When Parker mentioned he was an experienced ventriloquist,
a pastor chastised him for having such a gift and not putting it to use. He
ordered a new ventriloquist dummy and again became proficient. Parker has a lot of heroes that contributed to his life of
kindness and fondness for children — Mister Rogers included. But that seed of
generosity, and the relentless worth ethic that keeps Parker going forward, is
firmly rooted at home. “My parents are my heroes,” he said.

From McGruff to Mr. Frostee, Parker Has Made an Impact

William Smith Community Editor

Like thousands of other refugees, Viktoria Rozum, her
16-year-old son Yegor Rozum, and Viktoria’s mother Nina Rozum were looking for
a way out of war-torn Ukraine. 

“I had a good job in Ukraine. I worked in a commercial bank,
my mother worked in a state kindergarten, and my son studied at school and had
good grades. My son knows history well and participated in school Olympiads,”
Viktoria said. 

Then Russia invaded Ukraine on Feb. 24, 2022. 

“Our lives changed in one day,” Viktoria said. “It is
terrible. Putin is bombing our city. We are forced to flee. Thanks to American
President Biden, we are now safe.” 

Viktoria and her family found their way out of Ukraine with
the help of Burlington resident Travis Pilch. He took them into his home about
a month ago, and Yegor is set to start school later this month.

&nbsp;Despite the language
barrier, the Rozums are starting to feel right at home. And Pilch feels like he
has a new, extended family. 

“I certainly got lucky with them,” Pilch said. “We’re good
for each other. I’m much more active, I’m eating much better. I’m just sorry my
improvement had to come at the expense of them leaving their country.” 

After the family settled into Travis’s home, he took them on
a local sightseeing tour — a crash course in American culture. Viktoria
described the experience as intense. Her English is limited, so she discussed
her experience through a translation app. 

“For the first time, I met American culture, which I had
only seen in movies and heard in music. I saw for the first time what America
is like and how to live in it,” she said. “I am very grateful to Travis, who gave
me the opportunity to be here at all and see everything with my own eyes.
During this period, I visited museums, ate American fast food, and just had a
great time helping Travis.” 

Now that Viktoria and her family have started to settle in,
they plan on embracing their new American home. 

“I want to learn English and get a job,” she said. “I want
to thank the state of Iowa and pay taxes, be grateful to the USA for protecting
Ukrainians from war and helping my country Ukraine in the fight for democracy
and against the empire.” 

Pilch is a strong supporter of Ukraine. A native of Ohio,
Pilch moved to Burlington four years ago into a large house — a house far too
large for one person. 

“I started to feel kind of foolish. I’m paying for the heat.
I’m paying for the taxes,” he said. 

Pilch initially tried to take in Afghan refugees but would
have needed a second house to meet their cultural needs. 

“Unfortunately, the Ukraine crisis came along. So I thought,
‘Let me try again,’” Pilch said. 

If Pilch had waited until April, he could have taken
advantage of a government program allowing Americans to sponsor Ukrainian
refugees. They stay temporarily in the United States under a system known as
‘humanitarian parole. That didn’t exist when Pilch started the process last
year, so he took a chance and posted a request for Ukrainian refugees on
Facebook. 

Pilch was immediately bombarded with messages, he said, and
most of them were likely scammers. Pilch removed the request 15 minutes later, but
not before he received a message from Viktoria asking for help. He hoped she
wasn’t a scammer. 

“We started talking, and we talked for a month and worked on
the paperwork together,” Pilch said. 

The first step, getting the Rozum family passports, took more
than six months. The customs and government paperwork was a nightmare of
seemingly unending volume, Pilch said. It was so complicated that he considered
hiring a lawyer. Pilch is a schoolteacher in a tiny Iowa town about two hours
north of Burlington and was able to muddle his way through. 

Then, it was a matter of getting a family of three and their
cat from Ukraine to Iowa. There are no flights in or out of Ukraine because of
the fighting. They had to travel to Poland to take a flight from there. 

As much as Pilch enjoys having the Rozums in his house, he
wants to make it clear that they don’t owe him anything. He noted that many
Ukrainian refugees leave their host families for farm field work. They are free
to come and go as they please. 

“They aren’t indentured servants. They aren’t tied to me,”
Pilch said. 

Viktoria and her family can stay in America for two years,
then their status will be evaluated. That’s in the future. Right now, the Rozum
family are proud Americans. They can’t wait to absorb their new culture. 

“Travis has done incredible things for our family. He saved
me from the war and allowed my son to study and have a childhood,” Viktoria
said.

There will be a fundraiser for Ukrainian refugees on Aug. 21 at noon at the city park in Denmark. There will be grilled hamburgers, hot dogs, and chips. Feel free to bring a side dish or a dessert. Whiskey Friends will begin entertaining with live music at 1 p.m. All donations will go to the Ukrainian refugee relief fund created by Dave Roth to benefit&nbsp; Ukrainian refugees in Hungary. This is a non-political event hosted by the Lee County Democratic Party. If you have any questions, please call Mary Jo at 319-526-3160.

<figure>
 <img src="https://d2eftiauov6o73.cloudfront.net/public/2022/8/1661019837463.jpeg" alt="Travis Pilch recently welcomed the Rozum family from Ukraine into his Burlington home. Picture from left to right: Nina Rozum, Yegor Rozum, Pilch, and Viktoria Rozum. (William Smith/The Burlington Beacon)" />
 <figcaption>Travis Pilch recently welcomed the Rozum family from Ukraine into his Burlington home. Picture from left to right: Nina Rozum, Yegor Rozum, Pilch, and Viktoria Rozum. (William Smith/The Burlington Beacon)</figcaption>
 </figure>William Smith Community EditorLike thousands of other refugees, Viktoria Rozum, her
16-year-old son Yegor Rozum, and Viktoria’s mother Nina Rozum were looking for
a way out of war-torn Ukraine. “I had a good job in Ukraine. I worked in a commercial bank,
my mother worked in a state kindergarten, and my son studied at school and had
good grades. My son knows history well and participated in school Olympiads,”
Viktoria said. Then Russia invaded Ukraine on Feb. 24, 2022. “Our lives changed in one day,” Viktoria said. “It is
terrible. Putin is bombing our city. We are forced to flee. Thanks to American
President Biden, we are now safe.” Viktoria and her family found their way out of Ukraine with
the help of Burlington resident Travis Pilch. He took them into his home about
a month ago, and Yegor is set to start school later this month.&nbsp;Despite the language
barrier, the Rozums are starting to feel right at home. And Pilch feels like he
has a new, extended family. “I certainly got lucky with them,” Pilch said. “We’re good
for each other. I’m much more active, I’m eating much better. I’m just sorry my
improvement had to come at the expense of them leaving their country.” After the family settled into Travis’s home, he took them on
a local sightseeing tour — a crash course in American culture. Viktoria
described the experience as intense. Her English is limited, so she discussed
her experience through a translation app. “For the first time, I met American culture, which I had
only seen in movies and heard in music. I saw for the first time what America
is like and how to live in it,” she said. “I am very grateful to Travis, who gave
me the opportunity to be here at all and see everything with my own eyes.
During this period, I visited museums, ate American fast food, and just had a
great time helping Travis.” Now that Viktoria and her family have started to settle in,
they plan on embracing their new American home. “I want to learn English and get a job,” she said. “I want
to thank the state of Iowa and pay taxes, be grateful to the USA for protecting
Ukrainians from war and helping my country Ukraine in the fight for democracy
and against the empire.” Pilch is a strong supporter of Ukraine. A native of Ohio,
Pilch moved to Burlington four years ago into a large house — a house far too
large for one person. “I started to feel kind of foolish. I’m paying for the heat.
I’m paying for the taxes,” he said. Pilch initially tried to take in Afghan refugees but would
have needed a second house to meet their cultural needs. “Unfortunately, the Ukraine crisis came along. So I thought,
‘Let me try again,’” Pilch said. If Pilch had waited until April, he could have taken
advantage of a government program allowing Americans to sponsor Ukrainian
refugees. They stay temporarily in the United States under a system known as
‘humanitarian parole. That didn’t exist when Pilch started the process last
year, so he took a chance and posted a request for Ukrainian refugees on
Facebook. Pilch was immediately bombarded with messages, he said, and
most of them were likely scammers. Pilch removed the request 15 minutes later, but
not before he received a message from Viktoria asking for help. He hoped she
wasn’t a scammer. “We started talking, and we talked for a month and worked on
the paperwork together,” Pilch said. The first step, getting the Rozum family passports, took more
than six months. The customs and government paperwork was a nightmare of
seemingly unending volume, Pilch said. It was so complicated that he considered
hiring a lawyer. Pilch is a schoolteacher in a tiny Iowa town about two hours
north of Burlington and was able to muddle his way through. Then, it was a matter of getting a family of three and their
cat from Ukraine to Iowa. There are no flights in or out of Ukraine because of
the fighting. They had to travel to Poland to take a flight from there. As much as Pilch enjoys having the Rozums in his house, he
wants to make it clear that they don’t owe him anything. He noted that many
Ukrainian refugees leave their host families for farm field work. They are free
to come and go as they please. “They aren’t indentured servants. They aren’t tied to me,”
Pilch said. Viktoria and her family can stay in America for two years,
then their status will be evaluated. That’s in the future. Right now, the Rozum
family are proud Americans. They can’t wait to absorb their new culture. “Travis has done incredible things for our family. He saved
me from the war and allowed my son to study and have a childhood,” Viktoria
said.There will be a fundraiser for Ukrainian refugees on Aug. 21 at noon at the city park in Denmark. There will be grilled hamburgers, hot dogs, and chips. Feel free to bring a side dish or a dessert. Whiskey Friends will begin entertaining with live music at 1 p.m. All donations will go to the Ukrainian refugee relief fund created by Dave Roth to benefit&nbsp; Ukrainian refugees in Hungary. This is a non-political event hosted by the Lee County Democratic Party. If you have any questions, please call Mary Jo at 319-526-3160.

Ukrainian family finds new life in Burlington

By William Smith Community Editor

The little church on East Third Street in Lomax, Ill. — once known as Divine Ministries and recently renamed Lighthouse Ministries — has been on the verge of closure for decades.

Those days of strife and worry for the church’s handful of loyal parishioners are over now, thanks to the efforts of sisters Elizabeth and Pauline Sutton. They have been with the church since its inception in the 1980s and were finally able to purchase the building two years ago.

Elizabeth’s late husband, Donald Sutton, founded the church and preached the gospel every week — even before the congregation had a building.&nbsp;A recent dispute about the sale and use of the church building kept the Sutton sisters up at night. They feared for the future of not only the building but the congregation.

That’s why they took out a loan to buy it themselves.

“It took everything. Once we took that out, we had no money left,” Elizabeth Sutton said.

A congregation&nbsp;without a church

Lighthouse Ministries started without a church building. However, the congregation grew too large to fit in Elizabeth’s kitchen, and so they moved services outside.

“It was hot. The bugs were biting,” Elizabeth said.

For a while, the church operated out of a borrowed motorhome — until the owner wanted it back. Then it was back to outdoor services until the winter grew too cold.

Elizabeth’s brother-in-law, Roger Sutton, suggested the congregation obtain a church building. So he purchased one himself — a former beauty salon, which still makes up the back half of the church.

Once the congregation had its own church building, an expansion was in order.

“My husband had a vision that the Lord wanted him to build. There was just a handful of us here at the time. No money was coming in,” Elizabeth said. “We started building with no money. I’m telling you, you talk about faith! People came from all over to help and donate.”

Expanding a church on a shoestring budget was a nerve-wracking experience, Elizabeth said. But God kept providing.

“It scared me to death every time we ordered something. When we needed the money, it was there. We didn’t owe anything. We had yard sales. We had rummage sales,” she said.&nbsp;

Church founder Donald Sutton died in 2010, about a year after he started preaching in his new church. The sisters tried to purchase the church building from Roger Sutton, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He didn’t want to take their money — he just wanted the building to stay active as a church.

Roger, another pillar of the tiny church, died two years later, in 2012. He still owned the building but unable to sell it in his final years because he had Alzheimer’s Disease.

“That’s when we started having problems,” Pauline Sutton said.

The Rev. Kenny Rusher took Don’s place as the pastor and died in 2019. Rev. Kenny Rusher’s widow Leota Rusher is still a vital part of the church. There has been no regular minister since, so Elizabeth and Pauline became licensed ministers and started preaching at the worship services.&nbsp;

Guest pastors, such as Rev. Fred Starling of Faith Temple Church of God in Christ in Burlington, have been preaching at the church as well.

Ownership of the church passed to a family member who wanted to sell it.&nbsp;With no legal recourse and no claims to ownership, Elizabeth and Pauline could only continue services.

“Roger would have never wanted the church sold. He would never want that. But he just didn’t figure he would get Alzheimer’s,” Pauline said.

Elizabeth and Pauline did their best to hamstring the sale in the most Christian way possible — they killed prospective buyers with kindness.&nbsp;Anytime the real estate agent would show up, they rushed to the church to greet them and invite them to church services.

“I asked one woman why she wanted to buy it, and she said she wanted to turn it into a house. I said, ‘But this is already God’s house,’ ” Elizabeth said.

The regular visits caused some friction among the family. But it worked.

“They (prospective buyers) all felt something in this building. They could sense something,” Elizabeth Sutton said. “We just told them they are all welcome to come.”

After not selling for three years, Elizabeth and Pauline were able to buy the church themselves.

“This is a new beginning. A new start,” Elizabeth Sutton said. “We built this on faith.”

The congregation is small but growing, thanks to a partnership with Faith Temple Church of God in Christ in Burlington. Several church members also worship and attend Bible studies in Lomax, consisting of about 15 people.

“These are my sisters,” said Patricia Johnson, secretary for Faith Temple Church of God in Christ. “I’m always available for Lomax. And I love them very much. And I love this church. When you walk in the door, you feel the presence of the Lord.”

The church still runs on a shoestring budget, and the Lord continues to provide.&nbsp;Every time there isn’t enough money to pay a bill, a generous donation or some other happenstance results in the money they need. 

Pauline and Elizabeth are looking to grow the church out further.&nbsp;That’s why they have organized a fundraising weekend in conjunction with Faith Temple Church of God in Christ. They want to get the word out — to shout their praise for the Lord so all can hear.

“We’re still here. And I believe the church is going to fill up,” Elizabeth said.

<figure>
 <img src="https://d2eftiauov6o73.cloudfront.net/public/2022/8/1660578289011.jpeg" alt="Elizabeth Sutton, left, and Pauline Sutton, right, stand in front of Lighthouse Ministries in Lomax, Ill. The sisters helped to keep the church alive and purchased the building two years ago. (William Smith/The Burlington Beacon)" />
 <figcaption>Elizabeth Sutton, left, and Pauline Sutton, right, stand in front of Lighthouse Ministries in Lomax, Ill. The sisters helped to keep the church alive and purchased the building two years ago. (William Smith/The Burlington Beacon)</figcaption>
 </figure>By William Smith Community EditorThe little church on East Third Street in Lomax, Ill. — once known as Divine Ministries and recently renamed Lighthouse Ministries — has been on the verge of closure for decades.Those days of strife and worry for the church’s handful of loyal parishioners are over now, thanks to the efforts of sisters Elizabeth and Pauline Sutton. They have been with the church since its inception in the 1980s and were finally able to purchase the building two years ago.They preach there, too.Elizabeth’s late husband, Donald Sutton, founded the church and preached the gospel every week — even before the congregation had a building.&nbsp;A recent dispute about the sale and use of the church building kept the Sutton sisters up at night. They feared for the future of not only the building but the congregation.That’s why they took out a loan to buy it themselves.“It took everything. Once we took that out, we had no money left,” Elizabeth Sutton said.A congregation&nbsp;without a churchLighthouse Ministries started without a church building. However, the congregation grew too large to fit in Elizabeth’s kitchen, and so they moved services outside.“It was hot. The bugs were biting,” Elizabeth said.For a while, the church operated out of a borrowed motorhome — until the owner wanted it back. Then it was back to outdoor services until the winter grew too cold.Elizabeth’s brother-in-law, Roger Sutton, suggested the congregation obtain a church building. So he purchased one himself — a former beauty salon, which still makes up the back half of the church.Expanding the churchOnce the congregation had its own church building, an expansion was in order.“My husband had a vision that the Lord wanted him to build. There was just a handful of us here at the time. No money was coming in,” Elizabeth said. “We started building with no money. I’m telling you, you talk about faith! People came from all over to help and donate.”Expanding a church on a shoestring budget was a nerve-wracking experience, Elizabeth said. But God kept providing.“It scared me to death every time we ordered something. When we needed the money, it was there. We didn’t owe anything. We had yard sales. We had rummage sales,” she said.&nbsp;Losing their pastorChurch founder Donald Sutton died in 2010, about a year after he started preaching in his new church. The sisters tried to purchase the church building from Roger Sutton, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He didn’t want to take their money — he just wanted the building to stay active as a church.Roger, another pillar of the tiny church, died two years later, in 2012. He still owned the building but unable to sell it in his final years because he had Alzheimer’s Disease.“That’s when we started having problems,” Pauline Sutton said.The Rev. Kenny Rusher took Don’s place as the pastor and died in 2019. Rev. Kenny Rusher’s widow Leota Rusher is still a vital part of the church. There has been no regular minister since, so Elizabeth and Pauline became licensed ministers and started preaching at the worship services.&nbsp;Guest pastors, such as Rev. Fred Starling of Faith Temple Church of God in Christ in Burlington, have been preaching at the church as well.Fighting for the churchOwnership of the church passed to a family member who wanted to sell it.&nbsp;With no legal recourse and no claims to ownership, Elizabeth and Pauline could only continue services.“Roger would have never wanted the church sold. He would never want that. But he just didn’t figure he would get Alzheimer’s,” Pauline said.Elizabeth and Pauline did their best to hamstring the sale in the most Christian way possible — they killed prospective buyers with kindness.&nbsp;Anytime the real estate agent would show up, they rushed to the church to greet them and invite them to church services.“I asked one woman why she wanted to buy it, and she said she wanted to turn it into a house. I said, ‘But this is already God’s house,’ ” Elizabeth said.The regular visits caused some friction among the family. But it worked.“They (prospective buyers) all felt something in this building. They could sense something,” Elizabeth Sutton said. “We just told them they are all welcome to come.”After not selling for three years, Elizabeth and Pauline were able to buy the church themselves.“This is a new beginning. A new start,” Elizabeth Sutton said. “We built this on faith.”A fresh startThe congregation is small but growing, thanks to a partnership with Faith Temple Church of God in Christ in Burlington. Several church members also worship and attend Bible studies in Lomax, consisting of about 15 people.“These are my sisters,” said Patricia Johnson, secretary for Faith Temple Church of God in Christ. “I’m always available for Lomax. And I love them very much. And I love this church. When you walk in the door, you feel the presence of the Lord.”The church still runs on a shoestring budget, and the Lord continues to provide.&nbsp;Every time there isn’t enough money to pay a bill, a generous donation or some other happenstance results in the money they need. Pauline and Elizabeth are looking to grow the church out further.&nbsp;That’s why they have organized a fundraising weekend in conjunction with Faith Temple Church of God in Christ. They want to get the word out — to shout their praise for the Lord so all can hear.“We’re still here. And I believe the church is going to fill up,” Elizabeth said.

The Little Church That Endured

After 13 years of servicing local vehicles and pointing his customers to God, Terry Schnack will retire at the end of the year and shutter his West Burlington automotive business C.A.R.S. (Christian Automotive Repair Service).

“I’ve been working on cars as a profession for 48 years plus,” he said, “My mind is telling me I can do the things I used to do, but my body disagrees with it.”

Schnack gained local attention with a unique discount — anyone who wants 10 percent off their repair bill simply has to attend a local church, just once, and bring back proof, such as a church bulletin. If the customer has the financial means, Schnack encourages them to put that 10 percent into a church collection basket. But if they need the money, Schnack encourages them to keep it.&nbsp;Either way, Schnack has put more than $300,000 into the community through the discount program – and changed a few lives along the way.

“I believe through that program, we have brought some people to the church. They may have gone to get a 10 percent discount, but I know people where the church took them in and they continued to go to church,” Schnack said.

Schnack, who makes his home in Burlington, won’t be going anywhere after retirement. Instead, he plans on getting more involved in the community.&nbsp;

“I think everyone should be doing something to better their community,” Schnack said.

<figure>
 <img src="https://d2eftiauov6o73.cloudfront.net/public/2022/8/1660321505807.jpeg" alt="Terry Schnack is retiring after years of working in the automotive repair business. Photo by William Smith" />
 <figcaption>Terry Schnack is retiring after years of working in the automotive repair business. Photo by William Smith</figcaption>
 </figure>By William Smith Community EditorAfter 13 years of servicing local vehicles and pointing his customers to God, Terry Schnack will retire at the end of the year and shutter his West Burlington automotive business C.A.R.S. (Christian Automotive Repair Service).“I’ve been working on cars as a profession for 48 years plus,” he said, “My mind is telling me I can do the things I used to do, but my body disagrees with it.”Schnack gained local attention with a unique discount — anyone who wants 10 percent off their repair bill simply has to attend a local church, just once, and bring back proof, such as a church bulletin. If the customer has the financial means, Schnack encourages them to put that 10 percent into a church collection basket. But if they need the money, Schnack encourages them to keep it.&nbsp;Either way, Schnack has put more than $300,000 into the community through the discount program – and changed a few lives along the way.“I believe through that program, we have brought some people to the church. They may have gone to get a 10 percent discount, but I know people where the church took them in and they continued to go to church,” Schnack said.Schnack, who makes his home in Burlington, won’t be going anywhere after retirement. Instead, he plans on getting more involved in the community.&nbsp;“I think everyone should be doing something to better their community,” Schnack said.For Schnack, that includes another run at Burlington City Council. He ran unsuccessfully for one of three open council seats last year, and would still like to make a difference at the city level. He and his wife Angela will be volunteering more as well.“I would love to help out with the Salvation Army and their outreach program,” Schnack said. “I’m not done giving back to the community.”The crooked road&nbsp;to a new homeSchnack grew up on his family’s farm near Stockton, and it was the machinery on that farm that interested him most.“I was always fascinated with machinery and how things work,” he said. “My dad was never a mechanic by any means. It seemed like I had a natural ability to take things apart and put them back together.”Schnack’s path to auto mechanic and business owner certainly wasn’t a straight line. After graduating high school in Durant, he attended Iowa State University to pursue a career as an architect while working at a Firestone tire store.After deciding architecture wasn’t for him, Schnack left Iowa state and attended Muscatine Community College on a full-ride music scholarship. Turns out Schnack can play a pretty mean trombone, baritone, and trumpet.“I’m a singer too,” he said.But it wasn’t music he was pursuing. Schnack, who worked at another Firestone in Muscatine at the time, took business courses and graduated top of his class in automotive technology.“I realized that was the direction in my life I needed to take,” he said.Finding his nicheSchnack’s life became a whirlwind of automotive jobs for a variety of dealerships, just as the inner workings of automobiles were beginning to change. He adapted to the new technology, embracing it on his way up the corporate ladder.&nbsp;&nbsp;One of his earlier jobs was at Ford Motor company.“That was about the time electronic ignition was starting to come in, and ignitions were a big deal,” he said.&nbsp;“I went to a lot of Ford Motor company schools, and training.”&nbsp;Schnack went on to become a service dispatcher, which he called a “coat and tie” job, and then a warranty administrator at General Motors — an even bigger “coat and tie” job. Schnack acted as a mediator between the dealership, the manufacturer, and the customer.“You have to find the middle ground where everyone is happy,” Schnack said.After a few years, Schnack had enough of the stress. So he left and got a job as a lubrication technician at Lindquist Ford in Bettendorf, for which he was grossly overqualified. A week later, he was promoted to line technician. Schnack found the niche he was looking for, spending his days on engine repair and engine overhauls. He was also the upholstery guy.“Some days you changed clothes a lot,” he said.&nbsp;Unexpected tragedySchnack was still working at Lindquist Ford when his 22-year-old stepbrother died in an auto accident in 1985.“He had a massive heart attack behind the wheel of a car and crossed the center line and went head-on into a semi,” Schnack said.His stepbrother was getting ready to take over the family farm at the time, leaving sizable shoes to fill. So Terry did what he had to do — he quit his automotive job and went back to the family farm to sharecrop with his father. He did more than work on a farm, though. Everyone in town knew he was a mechanic, so Schnack’s father cemented part of the machine shed so he could use it as a garage.“I was continuing to turn wrenches,” he said with a grin.His own businessAfter five-and-a-half years, Schnack had to leave the family farm. His allergies had gotten to the point where he could no longer do the job. He became the transmission guy at M and M Ford Mercury in Macomb, Ill., and enjoyed the work. But Schnack wanted something more.“I decided it was time to go out on my own,” he said.&nbsp;Schnack spent 10 months doing repairs in a rented shop while a brand new building was erected that contained his first auto shop in Wilton.&nbsp;He called it The Wrench Works and operated it for 14-and-a-half years.“I sold that business because of some personal things that were happening in my life. When I sold it, I kind of left without any idea what I was going to do or which direction I was going,” Schnack said.&nbsp;“At home, I still had a lot of friends and neighbors coming to my house, wanting cars fixed.”&nbsp;A venture into the world of insuranceOne of Schnack’s former customers at The Wrench Works offered him a job at his insurance agency in Muscatine. He wanted someone who understood classic cars, motorcycles,&nbsp;RVs, and the automotive trade. So Schnack did the prep work and became a licensed insurance agent. He served over 800 clients — everything from Presbyterian churches to high-rise senior living apartments — and, of course, plenty of automotive clients. He enjoyed the work and values the knowledge he gained about the inner workings of insurance. But his hands ached for the familiarity of auto repair.“I just couldn’t live a cubicle life,” he said.&nbsp;Romance leads&nbsp;to workWhile working the insurance job, Schnack had started dating a woman online in Danville who provided the inspiration he needed.“She said, ‘Why don’t you go back to doing what you know how to do? Go back to doing what your real passion is,’ ” he said.Schnack was already driving to Danville every weekend to see her and started singing in the town’s First Methodist Church. He even taught adult Sunday School classes and got work at an automotive job in Mount Pleasant. Schnack still had a home in Muscatine and rental property there, so he sold the rental property, leased out his house, and moved to New London.“I packed everything into my fifth-wheel camper that I thought I needed to live on, and I moved to the New London Country Club, which I called home, lived in my camper, and went to work in Mount Pleasant,” he said.That was in 2007. Schnack worked there for two years, and one of his closest friends kept telling him that he should open his own shop again. By then, his romance in Danville had soured.“Him pushing me, he said, ‘Hey, I’ve got a friend who’s a Realtor, and she’s got a business that is listed. Why don’t we take a look at it?” Schnack said. “And it was this place.”Founding C.A.R.S.It took nearly a year, but Schnack was able to buy the West Burlington building (formerly Precision Bearing Warehouse) and set up shop. But he was having trouble deciding on a name for the new venture. He came close to not opening a shop in West Burlington at all.“I had gone through a divorce, the gal I had moved down here to be closer to didn’t want to see me anymore. I thought, ‘Why am I living in my camper here where I really don’t know a lot of people when I have a really nice house in Muscatine that I could move back into?’ ” Schnack said.Having trekked into another crossroads in his life, Schnack decided he should still himself and listen to what God wanted from him.&nbsp;“God moved me. He used whatever he needed to move me in this direction,” he said.By then, Schnack’s credit was in poor shape. He wasn’t sure he could even get a loan to start his new business. But God provided. And Schnack did the rest.“It finally hit me. Why don’t we just call it C.A.R.S.? It will stand for Christian Automotive Repair Service,” he said.&nbsp;Living in C.A.R.S.Schnack put everything he had into C.A.R.S., so much that he could no longer afford a place to live. He ended up living in the shop, throwing down a mattress on the floor of his office. He slept there for the next 22 months.“It got a little lonely here at night. It was just me and my dog Max, a German Shepherd,” he said.Max was Schnack’s best friend since the inception of C.A.R.S.&nbsp;He was also the shop celebrity and mascot, soaking in every friendly petting hand he could.Schnack still needed human companionship, though. He got online, signed up for Match.com, and started looking. It didn’t take long for him to meet his future and current wife, Angela.“Next month will be our 11th wedding anniversary,” he said.Angela lived in Keokuk at the time, and both she and Schnack sold their houses and bought a place in Burlington, where they live today. Max died last month, and with him, part of the spirit of C.A.R.S. Schnack is still emotional about it and said Max’s death cemented his decision to retire.“He was a fantastic dog,” Schnack said.Now, he’s looking forward to afternoon movie matinees and random midday picnics with Angela — the kind of things most small business owners miss.&nbsp;He also has three classic cars to tinker with: a 1960 Ford Thunderbird, a 1963 Ford Galaxy 500, and a 1972 Ford Gran Turino. Schnack will always be a mechanic, even when C.A.R.S. is gone.“Most of my customers, I consider them friends,” he said.

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