Let the Fire Fall

Crowds estimated to be well over one hundred fifty thousand filled the new Coliseum outside Detroit tonight. They came on crutches, in wheelchairs, accompanied by nurses and companions: thin unhappy-looking people, sick people, fat people. They filled the auditorium and when Bloke Daniels Cox took his place alongside Obie Cox you could feel the tension in the atmosphere mount. The sermon was long, and during it Blake didn’t move. He might have been asleep. Then Obie Cox prayed to God, beseeching Him to manifest Himself through Blake, and the boy looked at the people. He didn’t make a motion; he didn’t speak; he merely looked at the people. And the people responded magically. Headaches vanished; sight brightened; wobbly legs became strong; crutches were left behind; wheelchairs abandoned…

Articles on articles, speeches on speeches, where and when will it all end? The Voice of God Church has grown from an idea in the head of a country boy to an organization that today numbers in the millions. The facts are these: Obie Cox has a magnetic personality and probably the greatest stage presence of any man in living memory. He has chosen his lieutenants with supreme core; they have functioned exactly as they should. When his church faltered, he introduced his son, who has even more charisma than the father. The church got over the hump that could have spelled its demise. Such unerring intuitive grasp of what his congregation will accept and believe is uncanny. We don’t know if the boy is a genius. It doesn’t matter if he heals; they believe he does. What does Cox actually give his believers? Permission to lie, cheat, hate. And prophecies of catastrophes. He hedges all bets, covers all angles, and gets converts…

Q. Now, Mrs. Siddons, you were telling us yesterday about your spontaneous cure…

A. Yessir. You see, my doctors always said that there wasn’t much they could do about a case so advanced like I was. You know, appendicitis out, and gall bladder; and most of my stomach, and spleen and kidney…

Q. You had surgery when, Mrs. Siddons?

A. All the time, yessir. And I says to my husband. John Siddons, that’s my husband, you see. I says to him that since I’m most near dead anyways, I might as well go and see if that son of Obie Cox can do me any good, because sure as hellfire, he couldn’t do me any harm, don’t you see. And he looked. Yessir?

Q. Who was your doctor, Mrs. Siddons?

A. Which one? I’ve had a passel of them.

Q. Who performed the surgery to remove your kidney?

A. Here’s a list of doctors. I seen all of them from one time to another. I think Jones, or was it Harriman? But he’ll know. You just ask him. After he was finished, he said— No, that was another time.

Q. Mrs. Siddons, you realize, don’t you, that our examinations have shown you to be in excellent health, with an appendix, and both kidneys…

A. That’s what I’m telling you. Obie Cox’s son done worked a real miracle on me!