Running on faith

There are no atheists in foxholes and fewer crossing the Brookline Avenue bridge these days.

As the Yankees whittle away at what was once a commanding lead, Bob Whetstone stands to be the beneficiary of a worried, prayerful Nation.

While others hawk scorecards, scalp tickets, and give away free newspapers at the bazaar that is the Fens on game day, Whetstone stands on a bridge spanning the Pike, offering something more lasting. "Salvation," he says.

If you have walked to Fenway Park from Kenmore Square, you have walked past the street evangelist Bob Whetstone. He has been on the sidewalk, every game, for the last 14 years, as much a part of the landscape as the Citgo sign. He's tall, skinny, wears glasses and a baseball cap emblazoned with: "Heaven or Hell. It's Your Choice."

He looks like a concessionaire, a padded neck strap holding a sign, a painting that shows some people taking the road to paradise, others taking a road that leads them off a cliff into a fiery pit.

"Some people tell me it's too graphic, but there is a hell," he said. "People need to know there is a hell."

Whetstone was born, appropriately enough, in Bethlehem. "The one in Pennsylvania," he said. "My dad was an accountant for the steel mill there."

He was working for a trucking company, making decent money, when everything changed. "July 17, 1977. I was 29 years old. Jesus Christ became my savior."

He came to Boston in 1981 to go to Baptist Bible College. He did some evangelizing in the prisons, but in 1993, as he put it, "the Lord asked me to come here and do the sign ministry."

There was a girl. "My girlfriend asked me to marry her, back in '92. It was the hardest decision I ever had to make, but I said no. I couldn't do this and have a wife."

He rarely takes a day off. He has no source of income. He doesn't ask for money. "The Lord provides," he said. "I have a place to stay in Chelsea. I've got a car. People give me food. Some way, somehow, the Lord takes care of me."

Despite the graphic imagery, his is a passive evangelism. He arrives a few hours before the first pitch, goes to Quincy Market when the game's on, then is back for the departing ballgame crowd. He doesn't say much, mostly just stands there, offering "Where Are You Going to Spend Eternity?" leaflets in two outstretched hands. He has leaflets in 40 different languages.

Most people ignore him. Some turn up their noses. Others chuckle. A few take a leaflet and say, "God bless you."

"The Red Sox crowd is a family crowd, and it depends on what the father does," he explained. "If a father takes one or just says hello, the kids follow suit."

He evangelizes outside Bruins and Celtics games and goes up to Hampton Beach in the summer.

"The young people stop and talk," he said. "You'd be surprised."

But there is something especially spiritual about Fenway crowds.

"They ask me to pray for the Red Sox, and I do. I root for them. I want them to win, because that means bigger crowds, and that means more souls to save."

The other day, a short, heavyset man came and stood before Whetstone. The guy wore a Chicago Cubs hat and carried a Red Sox pennant. His name is Don Toutant and he lives in Oshawa, in Canada.

"Are you saved?" Whetstone asked him.

"Yes."

"How long?" Whetstone asked.

"Twenty years," Don Toutant said.

Toutant pulled out a camera and asked me to take his photo with Whetstone. He shook Whetstone's hand and set off, looking for a scalper.

"I need a single ticket," Toutant sighed. "I'll probably get ripped off."

Don Toutant walked over the bridge, disappearing into the crowd.

"He'll be OK," Whetstone said, turning back, his arms outstretched, salvation in both hands. "Jesus won't let him get ripped off."

Kevin Cullen is a Globe columnist. He can be reached at cullen@globe.com.