Sunday July 5th started off just a little blue, saying
goodbye to Mal’s family. But we don’t
have time to wallow in any sorrow, because there is just too much to do. We have another transfer this week. But first, church started back up for
us. We’ve been hearing rumors that the
St Louis Stake was getting going, but on checking with Pagedale Branch Pres
Fingel, this is the Sunday. It is a bit
strange. Everything is so sterile,
distant, and sparse. Don’t
misunderstand, we really enjoy going back to take the sacrament with the
saints. But, many members feel
uncomfortable, and they are encouraged to continue with their home-based
sacrament. We are seated every other
row, with people only in family groups on the ends. After the sacrament, we had a two testimonies
and then closed. Then we were ushered
out with minimal hellos. “Wait, is it
over already?” was the feeling I was left with.
We stood out in the hot sun for a few minutes talking to the Nerhrings,
the temple recorder and his wife, before we made our way to the car. We went home to our Come Follow Me studies,
like we have for months now. And then,
we were off to the office for transfers preparation work. It is funny how what we do all week feels
like it can also be done on the Sabbath, except for calling landlords and other
service providers. I wonder if that is
true or if I need to rethink my belief that the Lord’s work on a mission is the
same everyday? But I won’t be thinking
about it today because there is too much to do regardless. This week’s transfers are a day earlier in
the week than usual.
I got a call from the Macon elders.
They are sure that their pull out couch has bedbugs. They are really worried about it. I talked them away from the ledge and they
asked for permission to put the couch in the garage. I encouraged them to take it to the dumpster
if they could find a member with a truck to help them (speaking again about ox
in the mire on the Sabbath). Then I gave
them the standard bedbug speech.
Hopefully, we don’t have an out of control infestation.
Monday, July 6th started with a fairly early trip to
Farmington to sign and deliver a lease and pay deposits. They require certified checks, but it turns
out that the credit union adjacent to our mission office is in association with
our credit union in Utah so getting certified checks was not too hard. I drove the 1.5 hours down, but no one had
done anything over the long holiday weekend, so I had no trouble getting the new
apartment lease for the sisters. Then I
made my way to historic downtown Farmington to the utilities office and signed
up and made a deposit for electricity.
The mission will reimburse me for all these personal checks I’m writing,
but it does make me wonder what happens if the mission office staff doesn’t
have a substantial checking account to float the short term finance needs.
Meanwhile, I’ve sent the housing assistants off to the South and
O’Fallon zones to set up beds. Sometimes
we need to divide in order to conquer our to-do list. I raced back to the office and started making
duplicate keys for areas we were opening, and lists for me and for the housing
assistants to be ready at transfers.
Late that day we got word that one of our incoming missionaries missed
his flight connection in Detroit. Sis
Hatfield and the Bells lit up the phone lines to make alternative arrangements,
including spending the night with the missionaries in Detroit. The missionary’s dad was okay with him just
spending the night in the airport. We
have done that before, with disastrous results.
We would not let that happen again.
But it does mean that some folks will be off schedule at transfers
tomorrow, because this elder’s substitute flight won’t arrive until transfers
are over.
Tuesday, July 7th was transfer day. We have the revised COVID process pretty well
down, although my sense is that the missionaries are not being as careful as
they once were about social distancing among themselves. I suppose it is a reflection of society at
large—we can be antisocial for a time, but it is hard to keep it up for an
extended period. After transfers, we
take our sweaty selves out to a quick lunch, which has become a bit of a post
transfer tradition, and then we are off to finish setting up new beds in
Warrenton, Dardenne Creek, and Oak Valley.
Along the way, we do some table and couch swapping and
reallocating. Then its back to the
office to work until 10:30 that night.
We have another transfer next week.
On Wednesday, July 8th I head to Springfield, Illinois. Some members dropped off a meal at the
elder’s apartment a few days ago and was alarmed by what they perceived to be a
dangerous environment. No one else
seemed too concerned, but I couldn’t just brush it off as overly confident
elders. I needed to look for
myself. I met with the elders, spoke
with the zone leaders, drove around the surrounding neighborhoods, and did some
online searches for criminal activity.
In the end, I could find nothing upsetting. In fact, the complex looked about as well
maintained and orderly as any in our mission.
I’m sure some drug sales have gone on in the parking lot, and maybe the
members happened on one, but my conclusion is that I would probably only find a
less suitable neighborhood if I tried to move.
Apartment living just comes with some element of unexpected,
uncontrolled environment.
Next we were off to Mahomet, about an hour north and east of
Springfield. We were taking down a tri,
moving out unwanted furniture, and fixing fans and lights. Both of these sisters are on reassignment
from South America and seem to be adjusting well to their new home and
work. Finally we went to Champaign to
deliver some chairs before praying and starting the long journey back to St
Louis.
Thursday the 9th was moving day for the Farmington sisters. We loaded our mission trailer with beds, a
couch, tables, chairs, and kitchen utensils and small appliances that we had
purchased a few days before. We met the
sisters at the leasing office and got the keys, then went around to the
apartment. It is nice, but small. It was satisfying to see the sisters
excitement about getting into their teaching area and near their ward. Then we went the hour to Cape Girardeau where
they were moving from and got the things that needed to go to Farmington. While we were there, we fixed a blind and
smoke alarm for the Cape Girardeau sisters and then went to Goodwill and
Walmart to try to find a kitchen table.
No luck. The Farmington sisters
are going to need to make do with the round plastic table until I can find
something. Furniture is pretty tough to
find right now. Most of what I’m looking
for comes from manufacturers that have been shut down during COVID, and
supplies are scarce. Goodwill isn’t
accepting furniture donations or selling it right now. They only take and sell what fits in a
box. We did find an inexpensive dresser
though, which I was reluctant to buy because it won’t be durable. But I got it anyway because they needed
something. We went back to Farmington and
moved the rest of the furniture in and assembled the dresser, which was a Chinese
puzzle. I really had a hard time keeping
the housing assistants focused on the work because, dare I say it, the sisters
are really cute and engaging. They
cooked chicken for us while we worked and I did not have the heart to say we
would not eat it. It is surely part of
my job though to chaperone these small group encounters!
Friday July 10th was mostly an office day, except for the
gun shot investigation. The elders in the
Wentzville teaching area (Troy, Missouri) had reported a gun shot in their
neighbors apartment that came into the elders apartment. No one was hurt, but like Springfield, I
could not let it go uninvestigated. The neighbors,
who were a father, son, and son in law, had told the elders not to report the
matter and they would patch the hole. I
told the elders not to patch the hole until I could investigate. I called the police, and they said that the
accidental discharge of a weapon under the circumstances I described was not a
crime. It would have been in a church or
public place, but not in a private residence, even if the bullet goes into
another residence. I went to the
apartment and saw were the bullet had entered the bedroom of the elders, right
above one of their pillows and then gone at a 45 degree angle into the front of
the house where the slug got stuck in the wall.
No one had been in the bed when it happened, but they had been in the
room just feet away. This was much too
close for comfort. Next I went and
knocked on the neighbors’ door and asked to speak with them. They were blue collar men for sure. But they seemed not to be addicts or
irresponsible, and said that they had not been drinking. The 9mm handgun had dropped from a table
while unloading a holster and discharged.
I explained how seriously we took the situation, with the safety of the
missionaries being of utmost concern.
They gave me every assurance that the accident would not repeat. I’m confident it won’t. It is a reminder of how many guns there are
in Missouri. About 30 percent of
residents own them. For better or for
worse, the Missouri population is well armed.
Saturday, July 11th was a P-day with very little time for
personal preparations. We had another
transfer next week, and we are really running low of excess resources to accommodate
them. We spent a good part of the day in
the office planning. That afternoon I
took the housing assistants to the furniture warehouse to buy 13 box springs
for incoming sisters. The elders would
need to make do with mattresses on the floor which I buy online. Our office neighbors have surely wondered
what we do with the scores of mattresses Amazon has delivered to our office
hallway over the past several months.