It
was only the third time in history the ATF mobilized two national response
teams simultaneously. The first was the Oklahoma City bombing and the second
was on September 11th. In 2010, East Texas was terrified by a spree
of church fires. These were not merely cases of arson. They were designed to be
deliberately transgressive and disturbing. However, the faith of the targeted
congregations would not be shaken. Partly a true crime investigation and partly
an exploration of the possibilities of forgiveness, Theo Love’s Little Hope was Arson (trailer here) is an unusually moving documentary that appropriately
airs Easter Monday on most PBS stations, as part of the current season of Independent Lens.
Initially,
the New Year’s Day fire at the Little Hope Baptist Church in Canton, Texas was
blamed on faulty wiring. However, after nine subsequent Baptist and Methodist
churches were torched, authorities found an ominous taunt carved into the wall
of a hardware store’s men’s room: “Little Hope was Arson.” Someone apparently
wanted credit for all their handiwork.
With
dozens of law enforcement agencies assigned to the case, it is considered one
of the biggest investigations in Texas history. Eventually, suspicion fell on
Ben McAllister and Jason Bourque. At one time, the former Sunday school
classmates were quite devout, but tribulations in their personal lives had left
them bitterly resentful of God and the church—or so we gather.
Despite
scoring prison interviews with both convicted arsonists, Little Hope is unable to conclusively establish their motives. Yet,
Love is more concerned with the pastors and parishioners who strive to apply
the teachings of their faith to such a difficult situation and the devastated
family members who struggle to reconcile the loved ones they thought they knew
with the monsters they now appear to be. This is especially painful for
McAllister’s sister Christy McAllister, a civilian communications specialist
with the Texas Department of Public Safety, who faithfully aided the investigation
of her brother.
Very
few filmmakers have ever shown as much empathy for the people of East Texas as Love
does in Little Hope. He finds no
snarky humor in the situation when anguished worshippers express their fears the
church fires were the work of Satan himself. Instead, it is a point of view he seems
to understand, considering they are standing over the smoking ashes that were
once their beloved family church. Love clearly establishes the central role
these churches played in the social and spiritual lives of their members. The
pain of their loss is quite genuine, but so is the effort to forgive and to
console.
