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Why would an atheist want to live in a place where City Hall hosts a Nativity scene during the holidays and its most famous store is named Bronner's CHRISTmas Wonderland? "I've been asked that question a lot lately," he said. Clarke said he moved from Bay City to be closer to family in Frankenmuth and a neighboring town. He didn't notice the foot-long crosses on the bridge until he drove past them a few months ago, he said. He felt they made Jews, Muslims and other non-Christians feel unwelcome. "I've never seen a religious symbol on a bridge in all my life," he said. Clarke has a long history of activism. A retired UAW organizer, he has belonged to anti-war groups and ran for the state Senate in 2006 as a Green Party candidate, receiving 2.5 percent of the vote. After he objected to the bridge crosses, the city promptly removed them. Boy, that was easy, Clarke thought. He then tried his luck with removing the cross from the city seal. But the city balked, the churches got involved, the residents turned on Clarke, and Frankenmuth hasn't been the same since. U.S. courts have given conflicting rulings about religious symbols on public property. But judges seem to support such emblems if they represent the history of a community, said legal scholars. Lutherans founded city Supporters of the Frankenmuth crosses said the history of the town is synonymous with the history of the local Lutheran church, which were both founded by the same settlers. Besides the Luther rose, which contains a cross, the city seal contains symbols for the U.S. and Bavaria and a wheat sheaf to show the community's agrarian roots. "I don't think the cross compels anyone to be a Christian any more than the sheath of wheat compels someone to be a farmer," said Joe Kraft, 81, a retired computer analyst who has lived in Frankenmuth his entire life. The city park, at the southern entrance to town, contains a 70-foot cross and a restored log house modeled after one of the original homes. Before objecting to the crosses, Clarke found Frankenmuth a friendly, inviting place. People hold the door open for each other at the post office, he said. Drivers often give way to other motorists. But Clarke has since seen a different face of the community. During a council meeting to discuss the city seal, two copies of which hung from a wall behind the council members, 80 people jammed the small room, many wearing T-shirts with crosses that read "Live it Love it" and "Established 1845," attendees said. One wept that, without the cross, he was nothing. The local paper received a deluge of letters that questioned why Clarke moved there, accused him of harassing them, and said he should move to Russia or China. Talk radio called him an idiot. A blogger told him to pull in his horns. Even local youths got into the act, Clarke said. "I love the cross," one shouted at him in the street. "Get a life," another yelled a different time. Clarke was nonplused. "The Constitution protects the minority -- that's me -- from the majority," he said. "People here live in a bubble, and like it that way." In response to the issue, one of the Lutheran churches distributed 1,500 crosses to members. Before long, nearly every frontyard seemed to sprout one of the 3-foot symbols. Someone even placed one in front of Clarke's apartment. A resident joked that Billy Graham himself wouldn't have been half as successful as Clarke in convincing so many residents to display the cross so prominently. You can reach Francis X. Donnelly at (313) 223-4186 or fdonnelly@detnews.com. |