A number of minor surprises may reward the curious who choose to examine the pews of St. Peter’s on any given Sunday. Minor, I say, because we are supposed to be a relatively stable and predictable lot. We, the Frozen Chosen.

One of those minor peculiarities is the number of people who are, or have been, essential to the survival of the parish and who have served as United States Marines. Marines, the “Frozen Chosin” (from the Corp’s legendary Korean War battle) are known to be a fiercely loyal bunch. So, the logic goes, they’re a good investment in any organization they agree to join.

Logic isn’t always a trustworthy servant but for the great good fortune of St. Peter’s Episcopal Church, the family of Bill and Debby Fuller is.

Both Bill and Debby were (are) Marines. And don’t make a distinction between genders of Marines. BAM stands for Beautiful American Marine. And that doesn’t mean male Marines are the opposite.

Simply put, St. Peter’s in Kansas City would not work well, if at all, without the Fullers. And the Fullers include Jhennifer, whose work with the children of the parish, especially the acolytes, is as vital to the parish as the infectious sound of her laughter is to the church parlor.

There is hardly maintenance or decorating project in the parish that doesn’t include Bill. Add his work with the ushers, the liturgy, adult Bible study or just plain fellowship and you have what might be described as one of the souls of our parish’s souls.

Debby also is everywhere from the Order of St. Luke, the Altar Guild, the Ethics and Issues Group (with Jhennifer) and wherever the cry for volunteers goes up.

All three are extraordinary Christians. One of my most moving moments at St. Peters occurred before a Saturday night contemporary service last July. Debby had been very dangerously injured when a speeding car slammed into hers on Red Bridge Road, just outside the church several months earlier. Her church family prayed first for her life and then for her ability to walk again. The prayers were answered.

On that July night I saw a young woman in her 20s, looking very nervous, standing next to Debby. She was the (uninsured) driver of the car that almost killed Debby.

“When I first met her (after the accident) I was struck with the thought: she could have been Jenny,” she recalls. “I knew I had to forgive her and the best way at first was to invite her to worship with us.”

The young woman, then without an income or education, is now working two jobs and is determined to improve her life. “We talk all the time,” smiles Debby. “She asks me questions that you’d ask your mom.”

Debby says her ability to do what some of us might find all impossible comes from her youth and her discovery of Christ in her life.

“I suffered physical and mental abuse growing up (on a farm in Butler, PA). There was a lot of hate and anger in me. In the summer before my junior year in high school I went to a six-week Christian education camp at St. David’s College. A young minister said there was nothing in our lives that God could not help us through. And that we could heal by helping others. First you had to let go of the hate and anger. It was there that I broke down and accepted Christ. I went home and forgave my parents. After the accident I found myself very angry. I wanted to strike back. Then I knew what I had to do. And it was then I started to get better.”

Debby can talk about her life like someone explaining solutions. Jhennifer can talk with the sheer joy of it all. But Bill is a quiet, private man. He declined, most respectfully, to be interviewed for this piece.

His wife says Bill has always been intensely hard-working, at times holding two or three jobs in his youth, some in the wool mills of his native New Hampshire (he too was born on a farm).

They were both Marines based at Camp Lejeune, N.C. in 1974 when they met. Bill, well out character, was showing off with some buddies for the benefit of Debby and several other women Marines. Or so says Debby. They agreed to go bowling together. and were married four weeks later. In pure service fashion, there was a lot of paperwork. They had to get permission from both of their commanding officers because he was a sergeant and she was a private.

Life as a service couple in the 1970s was not easy. They lost a child that Debby carried well into her pregnancy. Bill was overseas for long stretches. Their son Ralph and then Jhennifer were born in Detroit where Bill was on recruiting duty. Debby worked as a spot welder at a brake shoe factory and sold real estate. Finally, after serving in Desert Storm and Desert Shield, Bill retired from active duty. They moved to Kansas City in 1995 when Debby, now working for the Defense Department’s finance operations, was offered a post here. Bill got a degree in telecommunications management and worked in the field for a while before finding more satisfaction in long-distance trucking.

“Desert Storm brought us back to the church,” says Debby. “It’s the fear of loss. I think I had the inner strength because of my life and time with the Marines but I feared that my kids didn’t. They loved their father so much and they needed something in their lives. We joined an Episcopal church (at Camp Lejeune). We grew in knowledge together. Sunday school was very important for all of us, adults and children.

“We grew attached to the church,” says Jhennifer. “We grew attached as a family because the church is a family and every member has a responsibility to the family. Our parents raised us to honor our responsibilities. To keep our promises. When we dedicate ourselves to something, we put everything we have into it.”

Ralph is a soldier serving with the 801^st Brigade Support Battalion, 101st Airborne Division in Afghanistan and will be returning home in mid-March.