CALIFORNIA | LOCAL
October 26, 2000 |
On an overcast Sunday morning, the Rev. Mary King waits inside a worn gray building that once housed a real estate office. She watches as the few remaining members of her flock trickle in from the cold. There is Ken, who shuffles in dressed in his best gray suit and bolo tie; Emily, a Germanophile who throws a knee-slapping Oktoberfest each fall; and Shirley, a steam engine who brainstorms about recruiting younger members. If a worshiper is late, she waits.