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Joplin, Mo. • The LDS bishop stood with the church at his feet — a place of peace left in pieces.

Dave Richins surveyed the damage, pointing out where the stage once was and how the biggest beam in the building that was such a pain to get into the building was now resting in the parking lot. To the tornado that ripped this building apart and tossed its innards out, the beam was like a toothpick.

As a spiritual leader to a flock of about 400 Mormons, he knew he would have to shepherd them through this disaster. He would have to see them through rebuilding.

So when it came time to prepare to talk about the tornado, he woke up at 4 a.m. and knew what he had to say. "I used the light of the Blackberry so as not to disturb my wife and wrote it out," Richins recalled. "I said the church will rise, the high school will rise and our city will rise. But I also told them the church building was just brick and mortar. It's the congregation that's the church."

He looked over at the toppled building, dark sunglasses disguising tears but a breaking voice betraying his feelings. He put his hands on his hips and then rubbed one hand over his bald head. Within minutes, his wife drove up to take him to a hospital an hour away to visit one of the members of the ward who was suffering from broken bones in her back and a bruised kidney.

Rebuilding, Richins realized, will simply take time.

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Trying for normal • Tim Bartow said everyone describes the tornado as sounding like a freight train. But Bartow said it's more like a dozen freight trains churning at full speed right over your head.

Nearby, his son-in-law Adam Wright held his 2-year-old daughter, and both men explained how they survived. They live next door to each other and Wright was cooking in his house while Bartow worked on the computer in his home. Wright heard about the coming storm, looked out and saw a wall of black headed toward them. He ran over to Bartow's house and yelled for his wife and kids to get into the basement. He then yelled at Bartow.

"He yelled, 'Get in the basement,' " Bartow said. "So I sat there trying to power down the computer first. Now, if he'd yelled, 'tornado,' then I'd have run into the basement, too. But when he yelled 'get in the basement,' I thought, 'Sissy.' If he'd yelled 'tornado,' I'd have thought, ' Brilliant.' "

They laugh about it now, standing amid block after block of razed homes. Wright walked around the wreckage and picked up a waterlogged Book of Mormon — a large copy with illustrations designed for kids. It was a gift from his mom.

He said the past week has been challenging. His wife, who is a Relief Society president for the 2nd Ward, has been kept on the go providing help to women in need. His daughter lost her favorite stuffed animal — a monkey — and she'd been asking for it. Wright missed his fruit garden that was blossoming in his backyard.

"It was perfect," he said. "We had our own little paradise."

They have tried to make things as normal as possible for their two children. They took time Tuesday night to watch the NBA Finals. They took the children to visit a friend who is their home teacher — a place untouched by the tornado — where they could play on trampolines. And a relative got his daughter a stuffed animal so she could sleep better at night.

"Would you believe, it just so happened to be that exact same monkey?" Wright said. "That's been a blessing."

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Shoulder to shoulder • The Mormons are unmistakeable in this town — clusters of yellow shirts carrying supplies or hauling away debris. Matthew Montague, first counselor in the stake presidency, said they have coordinated with city officials to help where they can, and he believes the disaster has brought with it some important spiritual lessons.

"As we see this unfold, we see the increase in unity and purpose in helping one another," Montague said. "We are standing shoulder to shoulder."

Rebuilding the ward and the stake center will take time, however. Montague said services for those who called the 2nd Ward home are being held in Carthage, about 45 minutes away. They will be held there this Sunday, but future Sundays have yet to be determined.

Joe Hunt, a contractor who has worked on and built LDS churches in the past, drove from Gore, Ark., with four other workers to help and said just clearing the debris would take two weeks — if all went smoothly.

"But I ain't never seen anything like this," he said as a backhoe gulped up dirt and rubble methodically by the demolished building. "And I lived in Tulsa, which they call Tornado Alley."

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A plea for healing • The hospital room is mostly lit by the eerie blue glow of a monitor by Susan Hughlett's head. Tubes snake down from her arms and she is only able to eat a few bites of meatloaf, green beans and mashed potatoes.

The 64-year-old has been at St. John's Hospital in Springfield for about a week and is being treated for bruised kidneys and five broken bones along her spine. Her journey to this point involved being carried on a door from a destroyed home and lying in water before being transferred to a makeshift hospital, where she spent the night on the floor, and then was taken on an hourlong ambulance ride to Springfield.

"I felt every bump along the way," she said.

Hughlett and her husband, David Hughlett, had just moved into their new home a little more than two weeks ago when the tornado struck. The house had no basement, so they hid in the closet. With a look of chagrin, David Hughlett recalled how their previous house in Joplin — the one they lived in for 36 years — had a spacious basement.

It gets a chuckle from everyone in the hospital room. Richins, who has been driving around every day to meet with members of his ward, came to see Hughlett and jokingly pointed to the 6-inch scar on David Hughlett's arm, questioning whether it was the tornado or a scratch from Susan.

But Richins is worried about Hughlett, who has no foreseeable release date. However, he would do what he could, and so, with her husband helping him, both men laid their hands on her head to give her a blessing.

She closed her eyes and calmly heard the bishop's prayer, a plea for healing. Then, he placed his hands on David Hughlett's head and gave him a blessing as well. While he did, his wife closed her eyes again, looking serene as Richins spoke in a low voice.

Then he left to visit another member of the ward.

And the rebuilding continued.

dmontero@sltrib.comTwitter: @davemontero