Local parish witnessed divine protection amid historic Peshtigo fire
By Halle Beranek | For On Mission
I grew up in the Northwoods of Peshtigo, 50 minutes north of Green Bay, and was no stranger to the epic small-town tale of the fire that ravaged 1.2 million acres and claimed upward of 2,500 lives — the largest in U.S. history — but was conveniently forgotten from the annals of American history because it coincided with the Great Chicago Fire. Every summer, the town’s Peshtigo Fire Museum would open, and volunteers would share their dappled history of fire accounts while St. Mary Parish in Peshtigo had its own dappled history to tell.
The parish’s bold claim to fire history centers on its quaint oak tabernacle painted with a white lacquer. This unassuming tabernacle, containing the Blessed Sacrament, was thrown into the Peshtigo Fire in the hope that it might survive. Against all odds and a blaze so great that the world in its wake was unrecognizable, this white tabernacle arose from the ashes three days later, as a beacon of hope amidst hellish devastation.
The most detailed account that remains of the Peshtigo Fire was written by Fr. Peter Pernin, pastor of St. Mary Parish during the time leading up to and following the fire. His written testimony serves as the source from which I have drawn most of my information. In the midst of the fire, Fr. Pernin’s account unfolds as follows:
It was about 7 p.m. on October 8 when Fr. Pernin, seeing the Peshtigo River as the only refuge from the fire, entered St. Mary Church to retrieve the Blessed Sacrament. In his hurry, he lost the key to the tabernacle. Rather than leave his Lord to ignite in the blaze, Fr. Pernin took the entire tabernacle in his hands as he ran from the sacristy to his waiting wagon. En route to the river, he recounted that his frame of mind was providential, granting him courage amid the passion he was about to endure and veiling him from the horror and danger surrounding him. Without this grace, Fr. Pernin likely would have perished in the blaze and the Blessed Sacrament with him.
After much toil, Fr. Pernin reached the river, surrounded by an ascension of flames into a hurricane of fire. As far as the eyes could see, people stood on the riverbank staring up at the orange heavens, mouths agape and tongues protruding like souls on the river Hades. The great number of people on the riverbanks had no thought to procure their safety by entering the waters as they submitted to their fate by fire.
It was about 10 p.m. when Fr. Pernin pushed his wagon containing the tabernacle as far into the waters as he could before he was obliged to enter himself in an attempt to save his own life. For five hours, Fr. Pernin and other townsfolk doused themselves again and again in the water, beating away the flames to save their lives.
The blaze began to subside at 3:30 the next morning. Fr. Pernin and the survivors, overcome with hypothermia, retreated from the icy waters. They began calling out for aid and searching the scorched earth for who and what had survived. Fr. Pernin’s injuries forced him to take refuge at a parishioner’s home in Marinette before returning to Peshtigo to tend his flock.
Upon his return, Fr. Pernin found St. Mary Church destroyed, except for the newly erected church bell, made of bell bronze, which now lay half-intact on the ground. It had fallen from the bell tower and was half melted by the fire.
If the bell was melted, surely the wooden tabernacle was lost in the blaze, but three days after the fire broke out, word reached Fr. Pernin that a miracle had occurred. The wagon that held the tabernacle had been blown aside — reduced to cinder and ash. The tabernacle had been swallowed by a fiery tornado and then spit out, landing on branches in the river. The landscape was unrecognizable, yet the white tabernacle shone like light amid a darkened, hell-burned world.
Fr. Pernin left the tabernacle in that place for three days as a sign to all survivors of the Lord’s saving arm. When he retrieved the tabernacle to say Mass, he forced the tabernacle open, breaking the doors, and saw that the only damage sustained was a few dents to the ciborium from being thrown around inside. The monstrance — and more importantly, the host of the Blessed Sacrament — remained in perfect condition. The water and flames respected the interior and exterior of the tabernacle, and even the silky cloth remained in perfect preservation.
The story of this miracle spread throughout the region. Both Catholics and nonbelievers offered prayers of gratitude for God’s provident hand. Today, the tabernacle remains housed in its parish community in Peshtigo at the newly constructed St. Mary Church. It serves as a reminder of the devastation and hell-fire that rained down during America’s largest and deadliest forest fire, and as testimony that even the gates of hell could not prevail against the Body of Christ, enshrined in that small oak tabernacle.
Halle Beranek is the parish and community outreach coordinator for the Catholic Charities Green Bay office.