A Town that needed a Church
Imagine stepping off a train in 1892 into the small railroad depot of Vina, California. The Red Bluff Weekly Sentinel would helpfully prepare you for the experience. In 1891, the paper described it plainly:
“This dismal and primitive railroad town of Vina; in fact, the less said about flat and dirty Vina the better. True it is in the heart almost of the largest of the Stanford ranches, but it is not a part of it. Vina is an independent little railroad depot, and the village belongs to the indolent, poker–playing-all-day-fighting fellows who loaf around and tramp up and down the town.” |
And that was the polite version. By 1892, the same paper had escalated its assessment considerably:
“. . . cheap wages has called together the worst class of inhuman beings on earth. It were well for detectives to keep an eye on Vina, for here congregate convicts, stage robbers, train wreckers and many are lured here by idle tales of gain, others to hide from justice. . . “ |
There were six saloons packed into what was barely a town at all. Vina had begun as a depot to support the enormous Leland Stanford Ranch — 55,000 acres at its peak, employing 500 workers that swelled to 1,000 during harvest. Most of the work was low-paid and seasonal. The population was primarily single men, without roots, who needed to be furnished room and board. The paper called them "the indolent, poker-playing-all-day-fighting fellows who loaf around and tramp up and down the town."
This is the context in which our church was planted.
It would be tempting to look at that description and conclude that Vina was the last place on earth where a lasting Christian witness could take root. And yet, in the middle of that rough, lawless community, something remarkable happened. A group of faithful men and women looked at their town and said: this place needs a church.
This is the context in which our church was planted.
It would be tempting to look at that description and conclude that Vina was the last place on earth where a lasting Christian witness could take root. And yet, in the middle of that rough, lawless community, something remarkable happened. A group of faithful men and women looked at their town and said: this place needs a church.
Building the foundations
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The story of how that building came to be is worth telling in full, because it says everything about the kind of people who founded this church.
In 1890, the Presbyterian Church of Vina was formally organized by Reverend T.S. Douglass. The people of the town began collecting funds almost immediately. Mrs. Leland Stanford — wife of the railroad magnate whose ranch dominated the surrounding landscape — donated a piece of property and an organ. Local farmers and businesses contributed what they could. The Ladies Aid Society organized socials and literary entertainments to close the gap. There are even anecdotal stories, impossible to corroborate but too good not to mention, that money was contributed by the saloons. And then, in the winter of 1892, volunteer carpenters from the Stanford Ranch showed up on two consecutive weekends and raised the building that still stands today. Total cost: $3,000. |
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That building went up in a town the newspaper had just described as a haven for convicts and stage robbers. It went up without a full-time pastor, without a denominational headquarters nearby, and without any guarantee that the community would support it. It went up because a group of faithful men and women believed their town needed a witness — and they were willing to build one with their own hands.
The church was dedicated on May 5, 1892. It was surrounded by the peach orchards of the Leland Stanford Ranch. The steeple was added to the bell tower a few years later. And for the next 130 years, that building would become the anchor of something far more enduring than anyone who swung a hammer that weekend could have imagined.
The church was dedicated on May 5, 1892. It was surrounded by the peach orchards of the Leland Stanford Ranch. The steeple was added to the bell tower a few years later. And for the next 130 years, that building would become the anchor of something far more enduring than anyone who swung a hammer that weekend could have imagined.
God's Faithfulness through turbulent times
The early decades of the Vina church were not easy — and that may be an understatement. For much of the period between 1892 and 1927, there was no permanent pastor. Instead, preachers traveled in from Corning or Red Bluff to hold occasional services and the church was open to ministers of any denomination — a small, practical ecumenism born out of necessity. Services stopped altogether in 1909 forcing and a few faithful souls to make the long trip for Sunday School to the Moon School — a school house about 3 miles outside of corning. The Woodson Bridge wouldn't be built until 1922, which gives you some sense of how isolated Vina from nearby communities.
In 1920, the entire business district of Vina burned to the ground with only the church and a handful of houses being all that survived. By 1922, the building itself had fallen into serious disrepair. Rather than letting it go, the community rallied. The Farm Bureau organized a dance at the Stanford Ranch — six hundred people attended — and raised enough to fund repairs. In 1927, a Methodist congregation took over the building, remodeled it, and reopened it for worship under Reverend W.C. Chew of Corning. Then, in the early 1940s, with the building again falling into disuse, the doors were barred and a "No Trespassing" sign was placed on the property.
It looked, more than once, like the end.
In 1920, the entire business district of Vina burned to the ground with only the church and a handful of houses being all that survived. By 1922, the building itself had fallen into serious disrepair. Rather than letting it go, the community rallied. The Farm Bureau organized a dance at the Stanford Ranch — six hundred people attended — and raised enough to fund repairs. In 1927, a Methodist congregation took over the building, remodeled it, and reopened it for worship under Reverend W.C. Chew of Corning. Then, in the early 1940s, with the building again falling into disuse, the doors were barred and a "No Trespassing" sign was placed on the property.
It looked, more than once, like the end.
A New BeginningBut in 1944, an American Sunday School missionary named Cecil Graves arrived in the community. On August 31, 1945, a new congregation was formally organized — the Vina Community Baptist Church — under the leadership of families like the Becks, the Bangs, the Christophersons, and others who simply refused to let the witness die. They purchased the old building in 1946 for $2,000, replaced the roof, the windows, the ceiling, and the floors, and held their first service on Easter Sunday of that year. It was, in every sense, a resurrection. What followed was a community of faith that grew deeper roots with every passing decade — and the people who built those roots deserve to be remembered by name.
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The Women's Missionary Society met twice a month for nearly fifty years. At each meeting they read letters from missionaries, prayed for them by name, and set to work — sewing quilts, making aprons, tea towels, scarves, mittens, pillowcases, baby sacques, and rag rugs for orphanages and the needy in the community. They sent Christmas boxes to those in jail. They kept a chest in the bell tower room where handmade items were stored and given to missionaries as they passed through. They gave a third of their funds to foreign causes and two thirds to needs right there in Vina. The group was active for nearly fifty years — a quiet, steady, extraordinary ministry.
Then there were the Bangs sisters. Sam and Neta Bangs were among the founding families of the 1945 congregation. Their daughters — Janette, Ruthie, Judy, and Marilyn — grew up in this church and sang together for decades. The historical records note it again and again, almost like a recurring refrain: "and the Bangs sisters sang." They sang for a mother-daughter banquet in May of 1956. They were still singing together at a special Easter service in 2018 — more than six decades after they first lifted their voices in this place.
Then there were the Bangs sisters. Sam and Neta Bangs were among the founding families of the 1945 congregation. Their daughters — Janette, Ruthie, Judy, and Marilyn — grew up in this church and sang together for decades. The historical records note it again and again, almost like a recurring refrain: "and the Bangs sisters sang." They sang for a mother-daughter banquet in May of 1956. They were still singing together at a special Easter service in 2018 — more than six decades after they first lifted their voices in this place.
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Youth groups flourished through the 1970s, 80s, and 90s. AWANA programs shaped children in the faith. A gym was added in 1988 to accommodate the growing children's ministry. A baptistry was installed in 1989 — before that, baptisms had been held at the Red Bluff Community Center or in Deer Creek. Pastors came and served faithfully — among them Pastor Larry Peterson, who gave nearly four decades of his life to this congregation. Every generation added something. Every generation passed something on. By the close of the twentieth century, the church had continued to evolve. In 1996, the congregation disassociated from its denominational affiliation and became an independent church. In 2000, the word "Baptist" was removed from the name and the congregation became simply Vina Community Church — a name that reflected its identity as a church for the whole community, just as it had always been. |
Then in 2011, a Bible study group from the Orland Evangelical Free Church launched a church plant in the Richfield area, calling itself Christ Community Church. They met for five years under the pastoral leadership of Jeff Tollison and by 2016, the two congregations — one with roots stretching back to 1890, the other a young church plant — came together. Our leadership boards unified and our stories merged. Christ Community Church of Vina was born.
It was, in many ways, the latest chapter in a pattern that had repeated itself throughout this church's history: when things looked uncertain, God brought the right people together at the right time. The building that volunteer carpenters raised in two weekends in 1892 is still standing. The congregation that gathered for the first time on Easter Sunday 1946 is still worshipping. And the witness that began in one of the roughest little railroad towns in northern California is still going strong.
Your story
You may be reading this because you're curious about Christ Community Church of Vina. Perhaps you are new to the area, or searching for a church home, or simply wondering what this small congregation has been about for all these years.
We invite you to become a part of our 130-year-old story of perseverance, community, and God's faithfulness in a small corner of northern California — a story that began in a rough railroad town with six saloons, was built by volunteers in two weekends, survived fire and neglect and decades without a permanent pastor, and is still being written today.
We are a small congregation, and we are not ashamed of that. Some of the most enduring work in any community has been done by small, faithful groups of people who simply refused to stop gathering. We study God's Word carefully. We worship sincerely. We serve one another and our neighbors in the same spirit as every generation that has gone before us — from the Ladies Aid Society of 1892 to the families who fill these pews today.
There is a place for you in this story. Come and add your voice to something that has been going on in this place for over 130 years and become part of what is still happening in Vina.
We would love to have you.
We invite you to become a part of our 130-year-old story of perseverance, community, and God's faithfulness in a small corner of northern California — a story that began in a rough railroad town with six saloons, was built by volunteers in two weekends, survived fire and neglect and decades without a permanent pastor, and is still being written today.
We are a small congregation, and we are not ashamed of that. Some of the most enduring work in any community has been done by small, faithful groups of people who simply refused to stop gathering. We study God's Word carefully. We worship sincerely. We serve one another and our neighbors in the same spirit as every generation that has gone before us — from the Ladies Aid Society of 1892 to the families who fill these pews today.
There is a place for you in this story. Come and add your voice to something that has been going on in this place for over 130 years and become part of what is still happening in Vina.
We would love to have you.
Adapted from the research of Gayle Carter