It happened on a Sunday. Usually, McCandlish Road in Grand Blanc is quiet, just the sound of tires on asphalt and maybe some birds. But on September 28, 2025, that silence didn't just break—it shattered. Most people think of Michigan’s "mitten" as a peaceful place of lake houses and apple orchards, but the church burning in Michigan that morning proved how quickly a sanctuary can turn into a crime scene.
At 10:25 a.m., a GMC Sierra pickup truck didn't slow down. It slammed right through the front doors of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Honestly, witnesses said it sounded like a bomb went off. It wasn't an accident. Thomas Jacob Sanford, a 40-year-old from nearby Burton, stepped out of that truck with an assault rifle. He didn't just come to shoot; he came to burn the whole thing down.
What really happened during the church burning in Michigan
Sanford wasn't a stranger to the area, but he carried a heavy, dark grudge. He was an Iraq War veteran who had spent time in Utah and, according to the FBI, had developed a deep-seated hatred for the Mormon faith. Investigators, led by special agent Jennifer Runyan, eventually confirmed the attack was a targeted act of religious violence.
The fire wasn't a secondary thought. It was the plan. Sanford used gasoline as an accelerant, pouring it out while the chaos of the shooting was still unfolding. Imagine that for a second. The smell of gunsmoke mixing with the heavy, choking scent of gas. It’s the stuff of nightmares.
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- The Victims: Four people lost their lives. Two died from gunfire, and two others, John Bond and Thelma Armstrong, were found in the charred ruins after the flames were finally put out.
- The Response: Grand Blanc Township police were there in 30 seconds. That’s incredible. Two officers eventually caught up with Sanford and killed him in a shootout about eight minutes after the first 911 call.
- The Aftermath: The building was basically a total loss. By the time the Grand Blanc Fire Department got the "third alarm" under control, the hull of the church was a blackened skeleton.
The motive behind the fire
Why would someone do this? It’s the question that always hangs in the air when the smoke clears. Sanford had apparently been vocalizing anti-Mormon sentiments for years. He even called members of the church "the antichrist" in a conversation with a local political candidate just a week before the attack.
It wasn't just a "random act." It was a calculated strike on a community's heart. When you talk about a church burning in Michigan, you aren't just talking about property damage or insurance claims. You're talking about the destruction of a "stake center"—a hub that served seven different congregations.
Legal reality: Michigan’s stance on arson
If Sanford had survived, he’d be facing the absolute maximum the law allows. Michigan doesn't play around with fire. Under Michigan Compiled Law Section 750.72, first-degree arson is a felony that can carry a life sentence.
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Basically, if you burn a dwelling or a building where people are present, you're looking at:
- Life in prison (or any term of years).
- Fines up to $20,000 or three times the value of the property destroyed.
- Permanent loss of rights and a destroyed reputation.
Because this was a house of worship, federal hate crime charges would have likely piled on top of that. The ATF National Response Team—the "elite" units of fire investigation—spent days picking through the debris. They even found four improvised explosive devices (IEDs) in Sanford’s truck. They were "simple," mostly commercial fireworks taped together, but they showed his intent was total annihilation.
Why this still matters for Michigan communities
The ripple effect of a church burning in Michigan travels far. That Sunday, nurses who were literally on a picket line at the nearby Henry Ford Genesys Hospital dropped their signs and ran to the church to help. "Human lives matter more than our labor dispute," their union president said. It’s a powerful image: people in scrubs running toward a burning building while the police are still clearing the scene.
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But the fear lingers. After the Grand Blanc fire, several other churches in the area received bomb threats. They turned out to be hoaxes, but the damage to the sense of safety was already done. You can't just "fix" that with a new coat of paint or a fresh set of hymnals.
If you want to support the recovery or protect your own community, here is what is actually happening on the ground:
- Check Local Support Hubs: Organizations like the River Church in Grand Blanc held prayer vigils and raised funds for the families of the victims. Community foundations in Genesee County often act as the primary funnel for donations.
- Review Security Protocols: Many Michigan houses of worship are now re-evaluating their "active shooter" and fire safety plans. This includes installing bollards (those heavy concrete posts) to prevent vehicle-ramming attacks like the one Sanford used.
- Stay Informed via Official Channels: For updates on the ongoing federal investigation or community-led rebuilding efforts, keep an eye on the Michigan State Police and the FBI Detroit Field Office's official releases.
The Grand Blanc attack was a tragedy that redefined what "safety" means in a small town. The charred remains of the church have been cleared, but the memory of that Sunday morning isn't going anywhere soon.
To help prevent similar tragedies, communities should advocate for increased local funding for specialized first-responder training and participate in inter-faith security coalitions that share threat information in real-time. Reach out to the Michigan Department of Civil Rights if you witness or experience religious-based threats in your neighborhood.