Some people next door heard them, liked the sound and asked them to come over and perform.
"We didn't have a gig, and we needed a gig," Natasha said.
An audience was an audience.
"But it's a really bad place," Andy said. "It was an abandoned airplane hanger. A bunch of people were living in it -- and it looked pretty terrible."
Natasha nodded. "It was kind of a dump."
The hanger was also, very clearly, not the usual sort of place the pair was used to playing. Scattered around the inside of the building were pentagrams and what the musicians believed were pagan symbols, but they figured they were there for a reason. They fired up their instruments and played anyway.
"The P.A. was really bad," Andy laughed. "They couldn't hear the words."
Natasha shook her head and added, "At the end of the set, we told them who we were and what we were about. We told them about Jesus Christ."
The group's apparent leader seemed embarrassed by the whole thing.
Andy said, "He just sort of hunched over and kept running his hands over his face and hair."
"He, like, turned five shades of red," Natasha added.
They gave their testimony, but decided they shouldn't stick around too long.
"I think the fact they didn't kill us is a pretty positive thing," Andy said and laughed.
It's funny now, but in hindsight, agreeing to just play for strangers out of the blue wasn't their wisest decision.
Natasha said, "Nobody knew where we were. They could have easily taken us out back, and nobody would have ever heard from us again."
But there wasn't any trouble and nobody died.
Looking back, the Milners said they had to have been protected, and maybe they did some good. The people in that shambles of a hanger were living on the edge of society, outcasts without homes and runaways with not a lot good to look forward to.
"We told them that God loves them, that he died for them, too," Natasha said. "Maybe we planted that little seed."
Reach Bill Lynch at ly...@wvgazette.com or 304-348-5195.