A New Gomorrah

By Elizabeth Kinzer O;Farrell

The story in the New Gomorrah is about a Midwestern city so steeped in crime and corruption, that a new minister, Reverend Dr. David Chandler, at a prestigious church on Park Avenue, feels he must do something about it. In a challenging sermon, he compares it to Gomorrah, the ancient city of biblical times destroyed by fire because of its evil ways. His compelling words are heard by Paul Chedder, a cynical, now burned-out, but once highly regarded investigative reporter for The Daily Chronicle, the citys only daily newspaper.
Dr. Chandler is popular among the young people in the church, and has learned about the drug trafficking on the local college campus. He is furious to hear about the gambling and prostitution rampant in the city, the running of crap games at the American Legion Hall, and berates local authorities for doing nothing about the bookie operation next to the Civic Center. He decides to bring such matters to the attention of his congregation in his sermon.
The city s crime problems expand with the assassination of the drug kingpin, and Pauls ongoing private investigations into a nursing home swindle, the possibility of corruption in City Hall, the death of two young reporters working with him, and his own near death at the hands of the assassin. While Paul is recuperating, the trusted members of the citizens committee decide to share Pauls suspicions of the Mayors involvement with the trusted District Attorney, working together to get crime off of the streets.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 26, 2009
• ISBN: 9781469101972

Book preview

Copyright © 2009 by Betty Titus Sprouse, Elizabeth Kinzer O’Farrell

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in

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recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without

permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

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Contents

Foreword

Acknowledgments

List of Characters

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Epilogue

About the Authors

Foreword

A NEW GOMORRAH is a fictional story. Fictional too is the crime-ridden setting for the story and for The Reverend Dr. David Chandler, a Methodist minister who vows to do something about the crime and immorality in the community.

Like most literary fiction, the story in A NEW GOMORRAH is based to some extent on the real life experiences of Mr. Charles I. Titus, whose untimely death in l990 left behind a first draft of his manuscript for the Gomorrah story. After Mr. Titus’ death, his widow and now Mrs. Betty Titus Sprouse, released his notes and the draft of his manuscript to me with a view toward its further development and preparation for possible publication.

While Mr. Titus’ manuscript necessarily required considerable editing, reorganization, and rewriting, most of his characters remain much as he described them. The original title, A Return to Gomorrah, which I have changed to A NEW GOMORRAH, is a story about a modern city, a new Gomorrah rather than the ancient city of Biblical times. A NEW GOMORRAH, therefore, is essentially a co-authored book, and during its preparation I have come to think of Dr. Chandler, Paul Chedder, Wayne Kasenbaugh, Jim Wyman, Captain Morgan, and many others of Mr. Titus’ characters in this timely story as real people working together to turn their crime-ridden town around. I have enjoyed working with them, and I am grateful to Betty and her daughters, Cindy, Debbie, and Trish, for giving me the privilege of working with their husband and father’s manuscript. The story is fiction; its message is both timely and real. We hope you, our reader, will find it so and enjoy it as much as we have enjoyed bringing it to you.

Elizabeth Kinzer O’Farrell

Acknowledgments

The idea for this fictional novel came to my father many years ago. He was a wonderful, spiritual man, who preached like the Reverend Dr. David Chandler, the minister in this book, yet his personality was like Paul Chedder, the reporter. Daddy spent hundreds of weekends writing out his dream story at the kitchen table, on legal yellow pads and my ever adoring mother typed every word on the computer. He had a real person tied to every name in this piece of fiction. The words poured from the heart, chapter by chapter, as if writing an endless sermon.

Before my beloved father’s death, my mother, Betty Titus Sprouse shared his manuscript with her friend, Elizabeth O’Farrell. As Elizabeth O’Farrell is a well respected, published author and was a magazine and book editor for many years, my mother felt that if this novel had any chance of being published, there was no better authority than her friend.

Mrs. O’Farrell took Daddy’s manuscript; edited and re-edited it, added an additional seventy pages, and brought this labor of love to fruition, after thousands of hours of work.

My beautiful mother, my loving sisters (Deborah Titus Evans and Patricia Titus Campos) and I are grateful to Elizabeth Kinzer O’Farrell, her husband, John and you the reader for keeping the spirit of Charles I. Titus alive.

Cynthia Titus Ford

The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good

men to do nothing.

 – Edmund Burke (l729-1797)

List of Characters

• Reverend Dr. David Chandler – Minister of Park Avenue United Methodist Church

• Julia Chandler – David’s wife

• Davy Chandler – David and Julia’s son

• Debbie Chandler – David and Julia’s daughter

• Paul Chedder – reporter, The Daily Chronicle

• Molly Chedder – Paul’s wife

• Jim Wyman – Owner/Publisher of The Daily Chronicle

• Elena Wyman – Jim’s wife

• Wayne Kasenbaugh – owner of local Buick dealership, member of Park Avenue United Methodist Church, Chairman of the Louden City Special Citizens Committee

• Leona Kasenbaugh – Wayne’s wife

• Johnny Kasenbaugh – Wayne and Leona’s son

• Julian Prater – owner of chain of furniture stores, local drug kingpin

• Thelma Prater – Julian’s wife

• Carl Daniels – Mayor of Louden City, church member of Park Avenue United Methodist Church

• Steve Bennett – Chairman of the Civil Service Board and Mayor Daniels’ Assistant, member of PAUMC

• Fred Price – Carl Daniel’s brother-in-law, member PAUMC, runs local nursing home

• Quentin Tracey – Head of Public Works for Louden City

• Reverend Dr. Don Peeler – Associate Minister of Park Avenue Methodist Church

• Mary Peeler – Don’s wife

• Captain Frank Morgan – Captain of Louden City’s Vice Squad

• Tom Rock – Frank Morgan’s assistant, second in command of Louden City’s Vice Squad

• Philip McIntire – District Attorney for Louden City

• Ed Dively – Assistant District Attorney

• Bill Collier – City Editor of The Daily Chronicle

• Ed Rayburn – Managing Editor of The Daily Chronicle

• Ed Franklin – investigative reporter at The Daily Chronicle

• Alfred Brady – Drug supplier to Julian Prater, lives in New Jersey

• Mike Westbrook – Political Science teacher at Lincoln High School, member of the Louden City Special Citizens Committee

• Jimmy Howell – Local Yetter College student, involved in getting drugs off of college campus

• Mrs. Howell – Jimmy’s mother

• Dr. Fred McCracken – Psychiatrist and Elder of the local Presbyterian church. Volunteers in one of the clinics where David Chandler frequently sends addicts looking for assistance in rehabilitation

• Reverend Dr. Ted Mansfield, Methodist District Superintendent

• Helen Mansfield – Ted’s wife

• Pete Simmons – State Legislator

• Joe Puccelli – FBI Agent

• Melvin Pollard – Local Bank President and member of Park Avenue United Methodist Church

• Rose Pollard – Melvin’s unpleasant, difficult wife

• Timothy Adams – seminary student who is coming to assist Rev. Chandler and Don Peeler as 3rd minister

• Peggy Adams – Timothy’s Wife

• Tom Symington – one of the founders of The Daily Chronicle, Jim Wyman’s uncle

• Jack Kincaid – other founder of The Daily Chronicle

• Jack Mitchell – Commissioner of Public Safety

• Henry Turner – Louden City’s Chief of Police

• Ted Fremont – Building Inspector for Louden City

• Sammy Meeker – Yetter College drug supplier

• Allen Morris – General Manager of the radio station

• John Kuhn – Choir Director of Park Avenue United Methodist Church

• Bob Warren – Yetter College’s Football Coach

• Bishop Dr. Chafin – Appointed leader of Methodist Conference from Washington D.C. to Pennsylvania

• Reverend Dr. Vance Coleman – retired minister at Park Avenue United Methodist Church

• Reverend George Chandler – father of David, close friend of Bishop Chafin

• Dr. Flint – President of Yetter College

• Cindy – Davy Chandler’s girlfriend, cheerleader at Lincoln High School

• Pinky Andrews – Intern at The Daily Chronicle, on scholarship at Yetter College

• Sam Jennings – Louden City’s favorite Barber

• Frank Sellers – Sales Manager at Kasenbaugh Buick dealership

• Bill Jacobs – Vice Squad, police officer

• Warren Hensley – Vice Squad, police officer

• Dr. Hugh Morris – Superidentent of Schools

• Grant Mitchell – Louden City Country Club Manager

• Ray Landers, Calvin Edwards, Jack Harman, Allen Reese, Howard Jerrell – friends of Jimmy Howell, students at Yetter College.

• Mrs. Phillips – David Chandler’s secretary

• Roberta Carlyle – Paul Chedder’s secretary

• Donna Marshall – Jim Wyman’s secretary

• Anne Stevens – receptionist at Kasenbaugh Buick dealership

• Mr. Cramer – City Commissioner

• Henry – Head Waiter at Morris Restaurant

• Pat Turner – High Stakes poker player busted in raid at Legion Hall

• Jake Whitehouse – High Stakes poker player busted in raid at Legion Hall

Chapter 1

Sunday Morning

It was a crisp, cold day in Louden City. Christmas was only a few weeks away, and Paul Chedder, sitting quietly in a pew far back in the beautiful old sanctuary of the Park Avenue United Methodist Church, was thinking about his job, a job that was going nowhere because there was nowhere for it to go.

Letting his mind wander as he watched the congregation beginning to gather for the eleven o’clock service, Paul was thinking, as he often had, that too many Sunday morning church goers are hypocrites. They talk a lot about the evangelistic mission of the church and the need to increase church membership, then literally drive newcomers away with their hypocrisy.

Paul was more than a little cynical about his fellow man generally, and about churchmen in particular, after nearly a decade of shaking hands with ushers and church members offering him a limp hand and a forced smile while muttering something about having a good morning when he knew they probably could not care less whether he had a good morning or not.

Paul Chedder had been visiting Louden City churches for nearly a decade and had observed the so-called pillars of the church too often to be easily deceived. He had seen too many of them too often in other settings. He had not only seen them at work, he had also seen them at play, and all too often he had seen not just a few of them away from a wife or husband in settings quite unrelated to and far removed from their beloved church steeples. Paul was not a particularly good churchman himself. Neither was he a member of the Park Avenue United Methodist Church. He was in that particular church on that particular Sunday morning because it was part of his job. Paul was a professional journalist, a now burned out but once star reporter who worked for the Louden City Daily Chronicle. Among his now routine and usually not very challenging assignments, he wrote the Chronicle’s Church News column.

Paul doubted that many Chronicle readers actually read the Church News column, but some of them apparently did because most of the local churches sent him announcements of their upcoming events. Some readers even said they believed his sermon reports actually helped ministers become better known in the community. Looking back over some of his sermon reports published in the Chronicle over the years, Paul questioned this view of his column too. He noticed that many of the ministers he had written about had actually said nothing really newsworthy except, perhaps, on those special occasions when they announced their resignation or that a new building campaign was about to be launched. But cynical or not about churchmen and the church’s role in modern society, Paul was first and always a professional newspaper man. He religiously believed that newspapers are important and that readers are entitled to the best job of reporting the news that he could provide, regardless of the nature of his assignment. After all most readers bought their newspaper, and Paul reasoned they had a right to expect an honest, unbiased report of the news whatever the topic or however trivial the story might seem to be.

Paul had intended to visit the Park Avenue Methodist Church several months earlier, but he had put it off, first to get away for a brief vacation with his wife Molly and then for a catch-up session on some of his other assignments. During the Methodists’ Annual Conference, customarily held in June, the Methodist Bishop had assigned a new minister, The Reverend Dr. David Chandler, to serve the Park Avenue congregation. Parishioners there, among them the well known Wayne Kasenbaugh who owned the local Buick dealership, had specifically asked the Chronicle’s managing editor to have Paul cover one of their Sunday services. While Wayne Kasenbaugh was a longtime friend of Paul’s from Paul’s earlier years at the Chronicle, he also spent a great deal of money advertising in the Chronicle, and now with Christmas only a few weeks away, Paul only that morning had decided to attend this service, to listen attentively, take a few notes on what The Reverend Dr. Chandler had to say, and then to hurry home to watch the NFL game on television. He was confident he could flesh out a satisfactory story in one quick visit, a story good enough not only to keep Kasenbaugh happy but to keep the managing editor at the Chronicle off his back.

The Park Avenue Methodist Church was the largest Protestant church in Louden City, and Paul knew only too well that the congregation there boasted not just a few of Louden City’s rich and powerful. He knew the mayor, Carl Daniels, a councilman or two, and banker Melvin Pollard were members there and that they would be expecting a glowing report about their distinguished Dr. Chandler in his Church News column. For the sake of circulation it was Chronicle policy, albeit probably largely the current managing editor’s policy, that local politicians and bankers had to be kept happy, but policy as such had never really mattered much to Paul in reporting the news. He knew if a bit of help was needed for his story on this occasion, it could be had with a quick review of the Bishop’s news release that he had seen earlier and which he had used to write the general story about Dr. Chandler’s assignment to and arrival in Louden City.

Paul glanced at his watch. There was still a few minutes until the eleven o’clock service would begin. Because he chose to remain detached and as objective as possible in writing his news stories, it was Paul’s custom to arrive early on his church visits, and he rarely engaged in conversation with anyone around him. To a casual observer he might seem vitally interested in the pre-service activities, but more often than not his thoughts were elsewhere. Now, looking around the beautiful old church, he recalled that it had been built around the turn of the century and that it had been renovated and enlarged after both World War I and World War II.

Paul wondered as he let his mind drift back to his job what it had been like back then. Had Tom Symington, one of the founders of the Chronicle, been involved in the planning that created this beautiful old church? He could not remember what church Tom had attended, but it suddenly occurred to him that it might make and interesting addition to what would otherwise probably be just another dull story about another dull sermon if Tom Symington and his partner, Jack Kincaid, had indeed been members here when they started the weekly Chronicle in 19l9, following World War I.

Thinking back to what he knew about the early years of the Chronicle, Paul smiled ruefully, remembering that Tom Symington had been one of the journalistic greats to newspapermen and his own role model when he and Jim Wyman, now Publisher, joined the Chronicle nearly thirty years ago. Could it really have been that long ago? Was it possible, Paul wondered bitterly as he continued to recall his own early years at the Chronicle. He had gotten his degree in journalism, compliments of the GI Bill following his military service in Korea, and he had heard all about the great Tom Symington, Editor and Publisher of the prestigious Louden City Daily Chronicle, from his professors at the State University. He had dreamed even then of a great future for himself as a journalist, maybe one day even as the publisher of the Chronicle when the great Tom Symington retired. He had been very young then with high ideals and great ambition, and Molly, who later became his wife, had shared his dream of a brilliant career as a newspaperman. Molly knew very little about office politics or the organization of the Chronicle when Jim Wyman, Paul’s close friend and competitor, was promoted to Managing Editor ahead of him. She knew Paul desperately wanted to make it to the top of his chosen profession, and she told him, Let Jim have that old job, sweetheart. You should be in line for Mr. Symington’s job when he retires.

Molly still believed, as Paul had once believed, that it was his destiny to one day become Publisher of the Chronicle. For this reason she had seldom complained over the years when she had to hold dinner because he had worked late or when he dashed out in the middle of the night in pursuit of an important story. She still cherished her dream for him, but his dream had died fifteen years earlier when he was passed over and Jim was promoted to Publisher. Destiny? His destiny, Paul though bitterly, was to write the church news and obituary columns, court notices, and an occasional press release for public relation types whom he devoutly believed might better have learned to write their own material.

Paul had long since admitted to himself that his problems were not really Jim Wyman’s fault, but that had not really changed anything. He and Jim Wyman had started at the Chronicle on the same day and shared a similar background. Both were veterans of the Korean War. Both had a degree in Journalism, and both were highly motivated, ambitious, and dedicated to the newspaperman’s creed, the belief that The people have a right to know. They had moved up quickly from their starting positions as junior staff writers to star reporters for the local news. Competition between them for headline stories and bylines had been fierce, but they frequently worked together on big and important stories. Their joint byline on a news story usually meant big news to Chronicle readers, and they became known around town as superstar reporters.

Those early years at the Chronicle had been the good years for Paul, and he liked to remember them. He and Jim had been competitive, but they had also been close friends. Jim had been best man at Paul and Molly’s wedding, and Paul returned the favor when Jim and Elena were married. Naturally enough, about that time both he and Jim began to think seriously about career objectives. Paul had talked of eventually having a syndicated column, and becoming Managing Editor for the Chronicle had often crossed his mind. He and Jim had even joked about there being room for only one of them in the Managing Editor’s office, but they had been too busy becoming superstar investigative reporters at the time to worry much about who might be promoted to that prestigious job.

Paul had been first to break his big story, a story about the manipulation of the county’s voting machines that allowed a predetermined slate of officers to win a county election. A short time later Jim exposed the director of administration for the county school system for diverting a small fortune through a dummy company into his own pocket, and Tom Symington, then still firmly ensconced in his handsomely furnished third floor publisher’s office, encouraged them. He was well aware that Paul and Jim were close friends. He knew that they had worked hard and were both due for a promotion. Unknown to Paul at the time, however, and to everyone else at the Chronicle as well, Jim, his close friend and competitor had an edge he had never bothered to mention. Jim was Tom Symington’s nephew.

Unlike Paul and his nephew, Tom Symington had never had formal preparation as a journalist. He and his wartime buddy, Jack Kincaid, had started the Chronicle with very little cash and practical experience between them. Jack wrote most of the copy for their fledgling newspaper, and Tom was the salesman. They combined their efforts in a trial and error approach in setting type and running the newspaper on an ancient press, then they delivered the newspaper themselves to their subscribers. In spite of their monumental lack of funds and experience, their weekly Chronicle prospered. Even during the great depression in the thirties, it prospered, and it was then that Tom Symington began writing editorials focused on his view that government has an obligation to help citizens who were unable to help themselves. Jack Kincaid then focused on developing a classified ad section with special emphasis on help-wanted ads. Between them their Weekly Chronicle soon became Louden City’s Daily Chronicle.

Fueled by his obsession with the plight of the unemployed, Tom Symington’s expertise as a writer grew, and circulation of the Daily Chronicle expanded to other parts of the state. In a continuing effort to generate interest in state sponsored programs to provide jobs for its citizens, Tom began to travel around the state, first to lecture state legislators, then to lecture at universities and to legislative groups around the country regarding his message. As his fame as a journalist and activist grew, Tom spent less and less time in Louden City leaving his partner to manage affairs at the Chronicle.

Jack Kincaid was Tom’s close friend as well as his business partner, and Tom’s world seemed to collapse in the spring of l940 when Jack Kincaid died. He had lost not only his best friend but a partner who could manage the business while he traveled, and he began to wonder who would take over and run the Chronicle when he too was gone. Tom had never married. His only family was a married sister whom he had not seen for years. He knew she had a son, but he had never met his nephew until Jim Wyman came to see him following one of his lectures at the university where Jim was taking his undergraduate work in journalism. After that Tom began to wonder if Jim might be persuaded to come to work at the Chronicle. He was unwilling, however, to promise special consideration to anyone unless they had earned it. He and his partner had worked too hard to make the Chronicle what it had become, and he felt their successor had to be willing not only to work as hard as they had but must also be capable enough as a newspaperman to keep it that way. Thus he began to write to his nephew, and between them they agreed that no favoritism was to be shown if Jim came to work at the Chronicle, that Jim would have to earn each and every promotion he got, and to make that possible they agreed that his relationship to his uncle was to remain a closely guarded secret to all concerned for as long as Tom wished to keep it a secret.

First Jim became an Associate Editor. Then he was promoted to Managing Editor. Finally, ten years later when Tom Symington finally decided to retire, Jim became Publisher of the Chronicle with his uncle’s blessing and an acknowledgment of their family relationship.

With Jim’s promotion and subsequent success as Publisher of the Chronicle, Paul grew increasingly discouraged. He refused, however, to consider leaving the Chronicle or to accept a position on another newspaper. In time he lost his enthusiasm for his job and even his desire for any promotion at the Chronicle that was offered to him. He felt used and betrayed by the two most important persons in his professional life. Why had Jim, his close friend and coworker all those years not warned him that there was no chance for him to achieve his goal in becoming Publisher of the Chronicle? Why had he failed to mention that Tom Symington was his uncle and had already decided who was to take his place when he retired? And why had Tom, his role model all the years he had been at the Chronicle, proved unworthy of the esteem in which he had held him? Paul had asked himself these questions many times over those years, and the years had taken their toll. He worked at whatever assignments were given him. He refused any promotion offered, and his byline no longer appeared over any sensational news stories. Dinners with Molly were never missed, and he seldom looked in at the Press Club or joined old friends on the golf course.

As the organist struck the opening notes of Holy, Holy, Holy, a favorite hymn of Methodists, Paul was jolted out of his reverie and realized that the service was about to begin. The choir began the processional during the singing of the first verse of the hymn, and The Reverend Dr. David Chandler, attired in his John Wesley robe, brought up the rest of the processional, joined in the singing of the hymn, and assumed his role as the spiritual leader of the largest Protestant church in the city.

The Reverend Dr. Chandler did not fit the image of the typical Protestant minister. Paul though he looked more like a salesman, or a doctor, maybe even a football coach but certainly not like a minister. Paul sat up in the pew, gathered up his note pad and pencil, and prepared to take a few notes on whatever might be said that he thought he could use for the story he would write for his Church News column on this church visit.

Dr. David Chandler that Sunday morning was to prove that indeed he was not the average Protestant minister. He was not at all what his congregation that morning was expecting. He was not at all what Paul Chedder was expecting. Neither was his sermon. The sermon launched Paul into a whole new phase in his life, and it propelled The Reverend Dr. David Chandler into a more incredible experience than he could possibly have imagined. The title of his sermon that Sunday morning was A Return to Gomorrah.

Chapter 2

A Bombshell Is Dropped

Mrs. Pollard’s mouth quivered. Old Dr. Sheeves bit his lip to keep from laughing, his amusement stemming from the astonishment he observed on the faces of his fellow parishioners. His Honor, Carl Daniels, Mayor of the city, sat in his pew alongside his wife as though paralyzed. He looked neither right nor left, squinting as he fixed his eyes on this minister, a minister who had just dropped a bombshell on the congregation.

The Reverend Dr. Chandler paused in the delivery of his sermon, allowing the point he was making to filter into the minds of the three or four hundred persons gathered for the worship service that morning. Years of experience had taught him how to tell when his message was hitting home. He had succeeded in disturbing George Stump’s nap, a major accomplishment for any minister, and Frank Gibbon’s mouth was half open as he stared in bewilderment at the man standing behind the pulpit. Paul Chedder was leaning forward in his seat, his pencil poised for more of what he had just heard. This sermon was no ordinary sermon; this was a story!

Why do you appear surprised when I mention the availability of hookers in this city? Dr. Chandler went on. Our three major convention hotels offer a complete package to any organization using our Civic Center. Is it any wonder we have so many conventions here? Most of the bellboys in our hotels have a list of young ladies they can call on at any time of the day or night to accommodate their guests. We even have two male escort services, and they are available to males as well as to females. Anyone can pick up the phone and dial 555-l777 to order any type sex desired at any time. Worse still, one of these escort services is owned outright by the management of one of Louden City’s most prestigious hotels. Is it possible you have lived in the midst of crime, corruption, and immoral activity for so long that it has become a way of life for you? Louden City has a population of slightly less than l50,000 and yet our per capita percentage of crime and immoral activity is higher than that of Chicago, New York, Miami, Los Angeles or any other large city you could name

Dr. Chandler was now standing alongside the pulpit. Pausing again, his eyes swept over the congregation. He allowed his gaze to rest momentarily on the balcony to his left. The younger members of the church had claimed that area years ago. The high schoolers and college students were as startled as everyone else as they listened attentively to Dr. Chandler’s sermon, another sure sign his message was hitting home.

Dr. Chandler had won over the youth of the church early in his pastorate at Park Avenue. He had played football at Ohio Wesleyan during his four years there as an undergraduate student, and he loved competitive sports of any kind. During the fall he and his wife, Julia, had attended all of the local college’s Saturday home football games and frequently attended the Friday night high school games as well. Their presence at these events had not gone unnoticed by the young people of the church. In addition, their son, David Jr., attended the local high school, and their daughter Deborah attended junior high. Both were good students and popular with their classmates. Pug, as young David was sometimes called, was in the balcony with his friends, and even he seemed startled by what his father was saying. Debbie was sitting quietly next to her mother in the front pew.

Dr. Chandler took a deep breath and continued. We have talked about hookers, homosexuals, and related subjects long enough. Let’s talk about drugs, illegal gambling, and organized crime in our city. While he was talking, Dr. Chandler moved to the other side of the pulpit. Not even a hint of a smile graced his lips as he continued to challenge the congregation.

"Drugs have been a major problem in this country for years and has grown bigger every day. We often hear how the police have confiscated drugs in bulk, and it is boldly announced that the street value of the stuff is one, two, six, and sometimes even as much as nine or ten thousand dollars. I suppose we should congratulate our law enforcement officers for this, but I suggest that most of the drugs that have been found were probably meant to be found. The flow of drugs into the country seems not only to have continued unabated but also to have grown with more becoming available every day. I have even been informed there is no shortage of cocaine or any other illegal drug available in this city. How many suppliers have been arrested? How many wholesalers have been prosecuted? We don’t seem to know who sells the junk or from whence it comes. But the fact remains that it is here, yes here in Louden City. I have also been told there are men in this congregation who may be involved in selling drugs. I do not yet have their names, but