In the city of Yazumi, Mississippi, in the middle of a grove, there is a glade.

And in that glade, in the shadows of centuries old Magnoia, Oak, Cedar, and Dogwood trees,

there stands a simple brick church.

A vibrant community of faith where people have gathered for more than 170 years to find

and be found by God, to raise their children in the faith, to bury their dead, and to bask

in the comfort and support of fellowship as they travel along their spiritual journey.

This church has been known to have other types of spirits, and that church is Chapel

of the cross.

The young Bill Haven College student had mapped out several routes between his Yazumi City

home in the campus in Jackson.

His favorite took him down Highway 16 and passed a historic chapel of the cross between

Madison and Flora.

He often traveled with three other young Bill Haven students.

Occasionally they stopped at the chapel, a beautiful, gothic building that looked for all

the world like some remnant from ancient times.

With its graveyard of crumbling stones huddled close by, the little brick church at Twilight

caused even the boatist visitor to draw a sharp breath at the slightest sound.

The four college friends usually stopped at the chapel for only a few minutes to stretch

their legs, but on one moonlit evening they found themselves actors in an otherworldly

drama.

On this night the young man had separated to do a bit of informal sleuthing.

One walked around behind the church, another peered in the sad entrance, a third was near

...