Captivated Los Angeles audience with extravagant preachings, only to vanish mysteriously.

Hellfire Preacher: The Alarming Life and Unforgettable Disappearance of Aimee Semple McPherson

By Dan O'Connor,HarperOne: 400 pages, $27.99

There are two sorts of Angelenos: Those who know about Aimee Semple McPherson and those who need to catch up. She was a sensation, a radio star, a publisher and author, an endearing figure, and a celebrity - quite an achievement for a Pentecostal preacher in the early 20th century. Her extraordinary success and unexpected downfall, and what her story reveals about faith, self-invention, and fame, are part of Los Angeles' cultural fabric.

The Angelus Temple across from Echo Park Lake piqued my curiosity years ago. I discovered that McPherson built it and held extravagant sermons there, made a splash by pretending to drown in the sea. Spoiler alert: Weeks later, she resurfaced, alive but with a questionable story about her whereabouts (kidnapping) and actions (spending time in a romantic hideaway).

Dan O'Connor's gripping new biography "Hellfire Preacher" delves into that story and more. He offers compelling insights into McPherson's religious beliefs and her tumultuous times. From her humble beginnings in rural Canada to her rise in Los Angeles, O'Connor takes readers on a wild ride through McPherson's life.

Born in 1890, Aimee was no ordinary child. Her devout mother, Minnie, marched through a snowstorm into her church and, like a wintry lioness, presented her baby Aimee to God, dedicating her life to Him. Minnie was dedicated to the Salvation Army due to its commitment to evangelizing and good deeds.

Throughout their lives, both mother and daughter would leave husbands behind for the sake of their religious pursuits. Eventually, they traversed America in a car adorned with the words, "Jesus Saves!" Thankfully, Minnie had married well enough that she could help her daughter when needed.

Raised in the Canadian countryside, Aimee was a dynamic teenager drawn to the secular world, until she encountered Robert Semple, a fiery Pentecostal preacher. Infatuated by him and captivated by the practice of speaking in tongues, Aimee married him in 1908. The two embarked on a mission to evangelize in China, but became seriously ill. Aimee recovered, and their daughter, Roberta, was born; but Robert didn't make it, passing away in Hong Kong before she was born. Friends rallied together to bring the widow and baby back to Minnesota in New York City in 1910.

In her grief, Aimee found solace in preaching. Although still connected to the Salvation Army, she hit the streets of New York to spread the gospel. It was there that she met Harold McPherson, who, by all accounts, was a bit of a shy fellow. Yet they married and, discontented with his expectations for her to cook, clean, and be a stay-at-home mother, Aimee felt trapped.

O'Connor skillfully translates Aimee's flowery writings into a narrative that resonates with modern readers. For example, to describe her depression, Aimee wrote, "The loom of life seemed then to be but a tangled maze whose colorings had suddenly plunged from mountain-tops of sunlit glory to the depths of a seemingly endless valley of bewildering gloom." O'Connor condenses this to, "During this time Aimee felt profoundly lonely and the emotion descended upon her like a terrifying grip."

To escape her dismal life, Aimee persuaded Harold to take the family to Florida so she could preach. They slept in fields and pitched a tent for her services. As a female preacher, she was a curiosity, and as one who embraced all races, she bucked cultural norms. During this period, Aimee developed her own religious doctrine - she professed joy and love; said that everyone could reach God personally; and announced that Jesus was imminently returning to Earth. She traversed widely as her fame grew.

Books to Burn

Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God: The Life and Times of Aimee Semple McPherson

Lisa M. Peteressen Simon & Schuster: 496 pp., $30

McPherson rose to prominence and even eclipsed the well-known fire-and-brimstone evangelist Billy Sunday with her message of salvation as opposed to damnation. She was accessible, addressing herself as "Sister Aimee" (instead of a religious leader's "Father"). Her attire was exceedingly modest - full-length white dresses topped by a blue cape. She laid hands on people and they claimed they were healed. She was so adored that her followers didn't mind when she and Harold quietly divorced. She engendered affection from the people of Los Angeles and was inundated with charitable donations. Her mother managed her finances, directing funds wisely during difficult times.

With the funds raised, Aimee constructed her Million Dollar Temple, the grand Echo Park church, which opened in 1923. This is where she consolidated her reputation for putting on a spectacle. To accompany her dramatic sermons, she employed a brass band, an orchestra, and a 100-person choir. When radio came along, she had a radio station built on site so she could broadcast live, and she drew a huge audience. The day she spectacularly drove a motorcycle onto the stage, press photographers were there to capture the event.

Los Angeles was a bustling town, eager for good stories, from the quirky to the scandalous. Sister Aimee, with her demure demeanor and overflowing crowds, was a newsworthy phenomenon. She learned to court the press, always ready with a pithy reply guaranteed to generate headlines. She became so famous that people called out to her in the street.

The events that followed will leave you spellbound, as O'Connor narrates the story in real-time. On the afternoon of May 18, 1926, Aimee went for a swim at Venice Beach while her secretary waited on shore. Aimee did not return. A massive search ensued, with a diver perishing when his equipment failed. Hordes of her distraught followers gathered along the beach, one of whom drowned while attempting to follow Aimee to the afterlife. Was she perhaps just missing? Sightings were reported; tips poured into Angelus Temple, which then offered and then rescinded a $25,000 reward. Thirty-three days after Aimee's disappearance, Minnie held a funeral service for her; over 20,000 people attended, emptying their pockets in tribute.

But two days after that, Aimee appeared in the desert in Mexico, across the border from Douglas, Arizona. She was alive.

"Aimee's disappearance had captured national attention, but her resurrection made global headlines," O'Connor writes. Aimee's account was this: She had been walking on the beach and stopped to help people in need, who then abducted her, moving her from one safe house to another and threatening to sell her into sex slavery in Mexico. She made a daring escape, walking 22 miles across the desert until she found a house around 1 a.m., collapsing at its gate. To her dying day, she never changed her story.

Upon learning that Aimee was still alive, Minnie and McPherson's distraught children traveled to meet her in Arizona. Media outlets raced each other by plane to be the first to photograph the miraculously resurrected evangelist. When Aimee returned to L.A., the crowd greeting her was estimated at 50,000 to 150,000 people.

Yet, even amid the rejoicing, doubts persisted. L.A. District Attorney Asa Keyes publicly questioned how a woman of Aimee's renown could be seized on the street. The physical evidence strongly suggested that rather than endlessly trekking through a blazing desert after weeks of torture, Aimee may have simply exited a car and strolled a short distance to be discovered.

Meanwhile, Aimee and her supporters demanded justice for her kidnappers, launching a high-profile, high-stakes investigation led by Keyes. Yet, even as the investigation spiraled out of control, Keyes remained reluctant to pursue charges against Aimee's alleged abductor, a man named Kenneth Ormiston. The examination was an endless media spectacle, as O'Connor recounts with captivating detail.

The tale includes unexpected twists like a blind lawyer being approached by an agent of Aimee's supposed kidnappers, an overlooked ransom note, and a twin who claimed to be Aimee's double, impersonating her to support the story. Yet it also includes more ordinary moments, such as Ormiston leaving behind a trunk containing Aimee's undergarments. Finally, Ormiston, who managed to stay out of the public eye during the investigation, admitted the truth: he was with Aimee, but not in a romantic sense.

Despite the scandal, Aimee's ministry thrived, and she continued to preach at the Angelus Temple, attracting record-breaking crowds. She continued to perform good works, including operating L.A.'s largest soup kitchen during the Depression. But something had fundamentally changed in Aimee - the content of her sermons grew darker, and a rift formed between her and Minnie, as she separated from Aimee's church. This is where O'Connor's riveting narrative leaves the reader, tantalized by the question of why Aimee and her mother grew apart.

Dan O'Connor is a writer and journalist based in California.

Captivated Los Angeles audience with extravagant preachings, only to vanish mysteriously.