Dube Builds a Cross

Did they spell his name wrong? Shouldn't it read "Dupe"? No, I guess Dube is the correct spelling. But he's messing with the wroooong people: the Zoning Board.

Noel Dube was a 62-year-old commissary officer at Fort Devens the morning he says his prayers were interrupted in his backyard in Pepperell by the gentle voice of the Virgin Mary.

I can't believe how matter-of-factly stories like this get reported. Hearing voices? It's the voice of a woman? Must be the virgin Mary! You're not simply hearing what you want to hear. And you're definitely not certifiable!

But Dube, a devout Roman Catholic who considered entering the seminary as a teenager, was also old enough to believe that when a man is fortunate enough to be spoken to by the mother of God, he'd better listen.

Oh yeah, you're soooo important in the grand scheme of things that out of the 6 BILLION people on the face of the planet, the mother of god chose to speak to you, so that you'd put up a cross on your lawn. Oh, the monumental importance of it all! A cross on your lawn! Can you imagine the awe people will feel at this miraculous thing you've done!

Freakin' nut-job.

"So I started thinking, what could I do? I mean, she didn't give me any directions or anything, she just said to build a shrine for the whole community to promote the rosary and to make [her] better known."

To make her better known?? Who does she think she is! The mother of your imaginary friend in the sky?? Oh...yeah.

Before Dube's cross arrived from the manufacturer near Montreal, he went to Pepperell's Town Hall to apply for a permit. When the clerk asked him for a site plan, Dube told him he couldn't provide one. The man who built the cross was going to decide where to erect it when he arrived. Jesus would direct him, said Dube, who never got the permit.

Yup, that's Jesus, alright. I tell ya! He never was one to plan ahead. Always kind of a seat-of-his-pants, ass-of-his-robe kind of a guy.

"I have no problem with it. He's a nice, nice guy," said Reale. "Other than the big, glowing cross we wouldn't know [the shrine] was there."

I love it when people get quoted saying really stupid things. "Other than the lights and the noise and the plummeting property values and the rednecks driving by puking out their windows, you'd never even know there was a NASCAR track right next door. Yessirree, it's like it's not even there!"

Dube, for his part, seems somewhat perplexed that the cross has created such a stir.

A clueless Bonk Job? You don't say!

He said that not only will he keep the cross up, but he also hopes to expand the shrine by buying the property on the other side of his house and building a chapel that will be open 24 hours a day. Right now he does not have the money, but he believes that will change.

"I'll hit the sweepstakes or some rich person will give it to me," Dube said with a confident chuckle. "Either way, I'm not picky. But I think it will happen."

Yup, he's delusional. Eighty-plus years of the church ramming a wholely unbelievable myth down his throat has led him to believe all manner of drivel. For instance, that a rich person will just give him money.