In Texas, fireworks can’t be shot near churches. So Tarrant County neighbors set up two
One May evening, residents in an unincorporated rural neighborhood in south Tarrant County gathered at a government building to air their grievances.
The neighbors on Eden Road South near Mansfield had been having problems with their new neighbor, Joe Sterling, and the noise and light from his nearby 18-wheeler lot for months. When Sterling dropped his fireworks stand on the property, it caused even more problems, they said. They worry about quality of life, and the quality of their animals’ lives, among other things.
There are few protections for those living in the unincorporated areas of the county with its loose zoning laws and fireworks regulations. Neighbors started looking for loopholes.
And on this night they met with their county commissioner, Alisa Simmons, who brought fire marshal Randy Renois and a representative from the district attorney’s office to the table to discuss potential solutions.
The first line under the prohibited use section of Texas’ fireworks regulations states fireworks can’t be ignited or explode within 600 feet of a church.
So the neighbors posed a question to county leadership — did they need to build a church to protect themselves?
Kate Zimmerman, one of the neighbors, said one of the county leaders started laughing. But the neighbors weren’t joking.
This property debate in unincorporated Tarrant County comes down to the few rules that exist locally and statewide for property zoning and shooting off fireworks.
You can do whatever you want on your property. So can your neighbor.
It gives few options for the neighbors upset with the truck lot and fireworks stand.
Texas also has few definitions surrounding what a church is. And as county leadership hit walls in its search for solutions and told neighbors to look into lobbying to lawmakers in Austin, the line in the fireworks rules seemed, to some, to be the right loophole for protection.
Then two churches, one at Neil Foreman’s home and another at Jay Hasbrouck’s, popped up in the neighborhood — both within 600 feet of the fireworks stand.
The name of Hasbrouck’s church? Faith United Cowboy Church.
And the church at Foreman’s? The Church of Peace and Quiet.
Rules about churches
There isn’t a solid definition for what a church is in Texas or nationwide.
For tax exemption purposes, the state comptroller’s office says a church is “an organized, established group of people regularly meeting at a designated location to hold religious worship services.” The IRS’ definition of a church focuses more on the congregation itself.
“Given the variety of religious practice, the determination of what constitutes a church is inherently unquantifiable,” a statement from the IRS reads.
Zimmerman laid all this out in an email to Renois.
“While the IRS and the Supreme Court are a little sketchy whether 2 people qualify as a church, first, we have more than that and secondly, Matthew 18:20 tells us ‘Whereever two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them’… which clearly adds one … and makes a group of 2 a total of three by default,” Zimmerman wrote. “Unless your fire code specifies that Jesus shall not be counted, which I would be absolutely shocked to hear in Texas.”
David Brockman, a TCU professor who also works at the Baker Institute’s Religion and Public Policy Program, combed through the rules. He said church designation is “wide open.”
Brockman used Denver’s nonprofit International Church of Cannabis as an example. Members practice elevationism, which focuses on the benefits of cannabis use. The church aims to “offer a home to adults everywhere who are looking to create the best version of themselves by way of the sacred plant.”
“If the International Church of Cannabis can be recognized, I guess the Church of Peace and Quiet can be as well,” Brockman said.
And as far as Brockman knows, what the neighbors in Tarrant County are doing can be considered churches.
Rules really only apply if a church wants to be exempt from taxes, Brockman said, and there are some churches that don’t have even have an ordination process for their ministers.
Renois agrees with the code — if a church is established within 600 feet within Sterling’s property, he and whoever else is on his property won’t be allowed to shoot fireworks.
Renois said he informed the neighbors that churches are public buildings and would need to be permitted and follow the fire code. Fire code comes down to whether there’s a structure, he told the Star-Telegram. So if the neighbors are hosting church inside a home or in a tent, that structure would be subject to rules.
It’s a different story if the neighbors are setting up chairs in a yard, Renois said. He said county leaders are researching what rules would apply.
Renois said if Sterling applies for a permit to sell fireworks, he would give it to him.
Sterling did not respond to a phone call and text for comment Monday.
A renewed path
By all means, Hasbrouck, 70, has taken the situation with Sterling and his fellow neighbors as a sign from God.
The 25-year neighborhood resident has always been religious and even has a Facebook page set up to write prayers for others.
Hasbrouck has admittedly not been super involved in the efforts to expel Sterling’s fireworks stand and truck lot from the neighborhood. But his wife is a member of a Facebook page set up surrounding the issue to keep neighbors informed.
No one told Hasbrouck to start his church, he said, and no one has helped him do it. His wife simply told him about a post that had information about the no fireworks 600 feet away from a church rule.
This was God’s way of opening a door for him, he said.
“I believe God lays a path for us,” Hasbrouck said. “And I pray for the strength and the wisdom to follow his path that he wants me to go down, and I feel like I haven’t been fulfilling that well enough.”
Hasbrouck has qualms with the lights from the truck lot, and he also thinks the chain link fence around Sterling’s property looks something akin to a prison.
“He has just gone out and done whatever he has wanted to do,” Hasbrouck said. “And he says, ‘It’s the county, you can do whatever you want.’ And he doesn’t care. And I said to him, this is my home.”
Where Hasbrouck saw a sign from God, Foreman saw a route to protect his neighbors.
“With all the stress of what Joe Sterling has done to me, it made me look inside myself and look for help and at that point I found faith in the lord,” Foreman said.
Foreman said he had talked to Zimmerman about making the church at his house, and said its creation was a general decision. Posts in a private Facebook group show the church at Foreman’s was a collective effort.
Foreman said the church was created so people in the neighborhood “suffering” at Sterling’s hands could have a place to unite and “ask a higher power for help.”
Foreman claims it didn’t have anything to do with the 600-feet-away rule, but that it helped.
County hits walls in finding a solution
Simmons, the commissioner, said she has been looking into statutes to see what can be done for the neighbors. The fireworks issue is one she said needs to be handled at the state level.
“How can we override state law is the question I come back to,” Simmons said. “We can’t.”
Simmons said it has been a frustrating situation for all involved. She said she has asked Sterling and the neighbors if they had ever sat down and just talked it out.
Both Sterling and the band of neighbors said no, she said.
Simmons called the neighbors’ decision to create churches an “interesting strategy.”
Neighbors like Zimmerman and Foreman have appreciated Simmons’ efforts and say she had been responsive to their needs.
Representatives for county judge Tim O’Hare and Texas House Rep. David Cook, who represents the neighborhood, did not immediately return requests for comment.
The neighbors remain frustrated at the lack of protections.
“What is the deal that there is no protection for residences, any resident, in unincorporated Tarrant County?” Zimmerman said. “It’s really crazy. Even though we’re trying to present options to the county that can let them protect the residents, like we opened these two cute little churches, how come we have to try to go to these lengths to protect ourselves?”
If her family could afford to move, Zimmerman said they would. But neighbors say that with the disturbances created by the truck lot and possibly fireworks, they can’t sell properties for what they’re worth.
“We’re trapped,” Zimmerman said.
Foreman doesn’t have a schedule for his church yet. Hasbrouck has plans to set up some chairs for his services. It may just be him and his wife who attend. If it is, then so be it, he says.
And he’s working on a set of three crosses — two 12-foot-tall ones and a 16-foot-tall one. Hasbrouck plans to put them up on the left side of his property.
It’s the side right next to the truck lot.
