SPRINGFIELD, MO — Working at the Assemblies of God world headquarters from the summer of 2000 until the end of 2001 was a culture adjustment. I was hired as a staff writer for the Pentecostal Evangel weekly news magazine, which promoted the trends affecting the A/G movement.
Click here for part 1 of this story.
I’d been a “real world” newspaper journalist in 3 different towns in Missouri after graduating from Evangel College with a degree in journalism. Yes, Evangel is an A/G school, so that’s where I got introduced to Pentecostal style worship, with speaking in tongues and longer, louder services than my Free Methodist upbringing.
Working at the headquarters, was, well, a culture adjustment, however. Our staff meetings were pretty cut and dried. Ideas were limited to really churchy stuff. In all fairness, our staff wanted to be more relevant to non-A/G readers, but the powers that be were locked into their traditions and culture.
Depression, home births were off limits topics
Several topics my boss wanted me to pursue got nixed. Depression among the clergy was one. I interviewed an A/G pastor who would go home after church and put up blankets over the window and just sit watching TV, he was so depressed. Tired of living a lie.
No way did the A/G want to promote that kind of reality. They wanted our news to have a rah rah element. Like a cheerleader with a journalistic tone. Another topic they didn’t want was home birth families. Too out of touch with the mainstream. It’s like they were afraid they’d be endorsing something as a Fellowship if we mentioned it in an article.
Cool places to travel
The senior staff writers and photographers got sent all over the world to do in depth articles. They liked immersion journalism, where the writer involved the reader in all the senses possible in a panoramic depiction of life as a missionary, etc. Faraway places, especially communist or atheist cultures, were badges of honor to write about.
Kirk got sent to China and was there when 9/11 happened. It was weird being stranded. His return flight got grounded in Canada.
Me? I got sent to Stillwater, OK. Hey, at least it was out of state. Another time, I got sent to St. Louis to cover and inner-city ministry. Walked the streets in neighborhoods so dangerous even cops didn’t cruise the streets.
Stillwater was a story about a coffee shop ministry on the Oklahoma State University campus. My editor, John, went with me. I remember driving with him to Oklahoma. He read a fat hardback book about the life of John Adams. He brought a stack of CDs of Christian worship music and I brought my Christian rock CDs. I think we would’ve been better off listening to the radio.
It was a pretty cool job. I learned how to keep words concise, yet colorful. I went to the Arkansas State prisons with a chaplain. That was interesting. Interviewed rapists and murderers. Going behind a series of security locks and doors was sobering. Once inside the state pen, I looked through the glass A bunch of young black men wearing white uniforms.
An older white guy was my interview. Larry Ashley. He’d accidentally shot his wife in an argument over whether she should take a handgun on an airplane. (Can you imagine even trying to get a handgun on a plane nowadays?)
The handgun went off and she fell dead on their living room floor. He cleaned up the blood and put her in the truck of the car. He was a hospital administrator in Little Rock. He drove her to the airport and parked. He took a cab home and pretended nothing happened. Until a few days later when police caught up to him. Crazy story, like a movie plot.
September 11, 2001
I was working at the Pentecostal Evangel magazine on Sept. 11. We were at Tuesday morning chapel when Brother Thomas Trask, the General Superintendent of the Assemblies of God, interrupted the service. “Apparently, America is under attack,” he announced as we sat stunned.
I remember listening to the news on the radio back in our office, because TVs weren’t allowed.
Next thing we know, they’re announcing they are closing the building for the day.
Ashli, a fellow staff writer, flew past me on the way home. She had to see her children. I had to see mine.
I remember gas was a $1.45 per gallon on Sept. 11. The next year on Sept. 11, it was like a $1.38.
I interviewed Stanley Praimnath, an A/G survivor of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. He was in the south tower and saw the plane coming at him. Amazing story. But after I wrote it, and it became front page lead story of the week for the magazine, they put my editor’s name before mine in the byline. I guess politically they didn’t want the new guy to get the top bill.
Break cart, cute office girl
At 10 a.m., a snack cart was wheeled by the offices. Ron, the ad guy, wouldn’t miss a snack. You had to pay for them, so that left me out. No way was I gonna do that.
A new girl, Jana, was hired. She was a very attractive brunette, recently married. I sat with her at lunch in the cafeteria. Got a talking to from the boss Hal about inappropriate behavior over that one.
Another time, our staff took turns fasting over the lunch break and praying for Ken, who had prostate cancer. We each took turns on different days, skipping lunch to pray. He was healed.
The bosses Beemer
Ron didn’t want to drive Hal’s BMW one time, when Hal offered his car. Ron was too intimidated to drive a luxury car.
Sometimes we’d go off campus to eat, just the guys. Crazy times. The guys teased Ron about going to Cotton’s a dive bar on Commercial Street.
Living in an A/G ghetto, as some referred to it, was a different experience. Everything was sanitized and filtered.
Rubber bands and dimes
Randy moved to a different department and Matt took his place as the design editor. Matt wore the shirt and tie requirement, but slipped off his dress shoes to work in his socks. He often ditched the tie while working, as well. Matt and his assistant, Keith, were fun loving pranksters. They occupied the office next to mine, and would launch rubber bands over the now 3/4 wall between us. There was just a few feet of space between the top of the dividing wall and the ceiling. Ploop! A rubber band would land on my desk from next door.
Matt like to skip lunch and eat protein bars and shakes. He was into working out, a rare feature for graphic artists.
One day he brought a big, shiny red apple for lunch. When he wasn’t looking, I slipped a dime into the side flesh of the fruit, thinking he’d exclaim when he bit into it.
A day or so later, Matt came back into the office. “I just pooped out a dime,” he remarked. I laughed so hard, telling him what I’d done.
Indiana University
Matt loved Indiana University sports. Ken, our boss, hated them. It was a big rivalry. Our office was being remodeled, so they sent Matt, Keith and myself down the hall to a vacant office space with no carpet, no curtains, just a gaping wall of glass.
Ken walked into our makeshift office to inspect us. Matt was wearing an IU jacket. “Take that off,” Ken demanded. Matt did, revealing a IU sweatshirt. Ken’s face reddened. “Take that off, too!”
Matt complied. As the sweatshirt came off, he was wearing another IU sweatshirt underneath!
Ken shook his head as Matt took the sweatshirt off and revealed a IU shirt. Then another. Such a riot!
In the afternoon, the sun burned through the windows and whited out Matt’s computer screen, so he taped a single piece of paper to the window to block the sun. As the sun moved, he’d move the piece of paper.
Brother Trask walked into our makeshift office one day. Decked in his suit and tie, he inspected our surroundings with the window paper taping and Matt with his shoes off. We could only wonder what he was thinking.
All in all, though we were highly scrutinized, my days at the PE magazine were okay.
One hot topic was “what ever happened to the men’s movement” of the 90s. Specifically, Promise Keepers rallies. I did research on it, and John helped me complete the project. All that stuff seems so distant now. None of it seems important. It’s legalistic background noise.
I got the boot
I eventually got fired for not being enthusiastic about the restrictions. They told me I was too free-lance for their operation. In reality, they had hired a new writer guy who made less money than I did, and they wanted to cut the budget.