Dozens of holes, old and new, in the metal ball atop the Presbyterian Church steeple tell their own story about local residents. Okay, who's been shooting up the church steeple?

I just discovered that the picturesque weathervane ball atop the lovely old Presbyterian church steeple is full of bullet holes.

Not just a couple, either. It's riddled with bullet holes. Looks like a giant Whiffle ball up there.

My image of peaceful little Washington has just gotten way more interesting - which of my heathen neighbors would blast away, for God's sake, at a church steeple?

Workers from C&H Services in Waynesboro are replacing the steeple's roof this week, stripping the old shingles off, putting on new, and replacing any missing or damaged wood, Rev. Glen Kohlhagen said. It was those workmen riding a cherrypicker who got a close look at the metal ball atop the steeple, and pointed out that it was, indeed, slap-dab full of bullet holes.

The steeple has been there since 1832, so chances are that most of the shooters are long gone. The metal ball is pierced dozens of times, shot from below, shot from dead even, nice tight groups and random plinks, some old and painted over, some pretty fresh.

My first thought was: you have to be pretty drunk to think that shooting at a church is a good idea, but not so drunk you can't make that ball go plink! after a few tries. But it's not just the random blasting of drunk good ol' boys - there's skill here.

On close inspection of the photos, a shooter can see familiar patterns: a hunter has been zeroing in his rifle, shooting the nice white ball from a few hundred yards away to align his scope for hunting season.

So we know why, but who, exactly, shot up the church? After talking to several knowledgeable long-time locals, I have a few guesses, thirdhand reports, and snide assumptions, but I'm not about to name names when we're dealing with somebody who is obviously a pretty good shot. I mean, if he'd blast away at the house of God, I imagine he'd plug a member of the media in a heartbeat.

Well, the first two people I asked, life-long Washington residents, were shocked and appalled that there were bullet holes in the steeple. They had never heard of anyone doing such a thing, but were willing to speculate about a group of young men led by one Shine Reynolds, part of the Main Street gang from the 1930s.

The bullet holes even shocked and enlightened the vastly knowledgeable Robert M. "Skeet" Willingham, who could think of generations of Wilkes men capable of both drinking too much and shooting up a church, but couldn't pick just one in particular. At least not out loud.

It was Mike Eskew who remembered the closest possibility, in the form of good, third-hand church gossip. Eskew said that a member of the Washington Presbyterian Church had told him in the 1970s that some decades in the past, church member Lathem Wright, who lived about 250 yards north, walked into a meeting of the church leadership and said, "I owe you a weathervane - I've been zeroing in my rifle."

Skeet Willingham confirmed that Mr. Wright, who passed on in the 1970s, was a fine gentleman from a great old Wilkes County family, and was perfectly capable of such a thing. "Sounds just like him, and it's a straight shot from his home to the church," he said.

If that's true, he wasn't the only one. I'm pretty sure we've only just begun to get to the truth of this. Somebody out there knows more stories, watched somebody blast the steeple, or maybe even took a shot themselves. Give me a call - 706- 678-2636 - and tell me what you know. Confession is good for the soul.