Sunday, August 30th was remarkable mostly because of a
troubling visit after church Sis Hatfield and I had to Sister Annie Stewart’s
home. She had been in an out of the
hospital that week, suffering from severe headaches and high blood
pressure. She was very uncomfortable
during our visit. Moreover, she was very
hungry. She wondered out loud about
whether she should find out what options she might have for moving to a senior
care facility. I am sure that it is not
easy for her two live-in grandchildren to care for her every day. I felt so bad for her. Sis Hatfield helped her think about living
alternatives, although poor Annie could not think too clearly about it that
day. Mostly, she knew she was not
well. I administered the sacrament,
giving her the entire piece of bread. As
we finished our visit, Annie sang a plaintiff hymn loudly, asking for the
Lord’s mercy. It was heart
wrenching. I vowed I would bring her
food next time we came. I left with the
strong impression that the necessities of life are a condition to spiritual
growth.
That evening, we hosted the Pagedale Branch missionaries, Elder Brinley
and Elder Brady, the latter of whom had just joined the area. We enjoy keeping up with these young men who
we see at least every Sunday at church.
Moreover, Pres Bell confided that one of these young men was struggling
a bit with his testimony. We want to
strengthen him however we can. After
dinner, Sis Hatfield continued to communicate and coordinate with missionaries
and their parents about temple endowments, which start this Thursday. This week, most of the ordinances will be for
missionaries that won’t have parents coming, because they will be ready on the
short notice that parents have had.
Monday, September 31st was inspiring to me. I had some possible apartments in Tuscola,
Illinois for two sisters that had been assigned there. For the moment, they were in the local
Holiday Inn. Actually, it is almost odd
that Tuscola has a Holiday Inn. It is a
small, agriculture-based community that has not seen any growth to speak of in
decades. It is quaint and picturesque,
but options are limited. I drove the 2
and ½ hours north and east of St Louis and met a local agent. She showed me two properties, the first of
which was clearly unacceptable, for many reasons, although it was in a nice,
quiet city center neighborhood. The
second property was a definite fixer upper.
It had a lot of charm. But I just
could not get over the age of the property and lack of renovation. I left wanting to feel good about it, but I
was not getting there. I literally drove
up and down the streets of the entirety of Tuscola, and wrote down the number
of every property indicating it was for rent.
I called a few, but nothing was panning out. Finally, I needed to leave for Decatur to
take care some housing needs of the four elders living in an apartment
there.
As I was leaving Decatur, I got a call from an elderly gentleman back
in Tuscola who was responding to my message earlier that day. He indicated that the property that he owned
had a vacancy, that it was newly renovated and clean, and that he would like to
show it to me at about 6 pm. I knew that
time would not work given the distance I was from both Tuscola and St
Louis. I thanked him for calling, and
said I would like to take a look, but would need to get back with him as to
when that could happen. I called Sis
Hatfield, and as I explained my impressions of what I had seen of Tuscola, she
said, “why don’t you have the Tuscola sisters meet the elderly landlord and
take a look?” I pondered that for a
moment, and realized that it was a good idea.
I called the sisters, who nervously agreed. They feared that I was going to ask them to
negotiate a lease. I assured them that all
I wanted to know was whether the apartment was clean and livable. I had already scoped the neighborhood and
believed it was safe, and conveniently, less than a mile from the small church
building. The sisters agreed. I called the landlord back and set up the
inspection appointment.
Back at the office, I nervously awaited for the sisters’ report. They said it smelled of smoke, but that
otherwise, it was great. I carefully
questioned them about their sensitivities to smoke, and they assured me that
they didn’t have any particular concerns.
We worked until 10 that night, with me working on application papers.
On Tuesday, September 1st, I called the landlord in Tuscola
first thing, and he told me that the church was approved in his mind as a
lessee. He connected me with his
friendly and efficient manager, and we worked later in the day on lease
papers. But first, I had potential
apartment tours set up in Carbondale, Illinois, two hours east of St
Louis. I had come across a very helpful
local manager of multiple properties named Keith who had steered me towards a
couple of potential apartments for missionaries in Carbondale. The man seemed especially friendly, having
toured the St Louis Temple during its open house about 25 years ago. He knew well who I was and what I
represented, and genuinely wanted to assist me.
While Keith’s properties seemed fine, I could not make myself say yes
to either of them. I wanted to see a
third property first, although I wasn’t exactly sure why. The third property was a small house owned by
a member, and it was advertised as needing yard work as part of the deal. I wasn’t about to sign up the missionaries
for a yard maintenance project, and old houses are magnets for problems of all
sorts, particularly plumbing, but many other things too. Old is old, and a house is often maintained
even less by nonprofessional owners than apartments. And I worried that it was in Murphysboro, a
few miles west of Carbondale, not actually in Carbondale.
But I wanted to see it anyway. I
drove up and Bro Perry Smith warmly greeted me.
His son had been living in the property until recently, and a fair
amount of work had been done to fix it up, including redoing the plumbing. It was great space, with a good sized bedroom
and a single bath, but a decent sized kitchen.
It also had a good sized living room.
Four rooms, that was it, including the bathroom. Bro Smith said that he would take care of the
yard himself. But what really sold me
was that Bro Smith was willing to rent on a month to month basis, from the
start. That is almost unheard of, at
least without a steep rent premium. It
seems sure that at some point the COVID bubble of missionaries will be past,
and we will shrink again, and I will need to figure out how to exit leases. This lease would be terminable without too
much problem. And now that I was here
looking at things, I realized that the Carbondale church building is on the
very western edge of the town, not far from Murphysboro. This seemed like it would work. I left town letting both owners know I would
call them. I prayed and pondered that
night and by morning the Murphysboro property seemed like the right one. I called and let Keith know my decision,
leaving the relationship on a positive note.
Bro Perry was certainly happy, although he did not have a form of
lease. I would be taking care of
that.
When I arrived home that night, I found Nana ‘Dene reading books to
Kennedy Pearl. RaDene had the bright
idea of buying children’s books for the Grands in triplicate, and having one
set sent to each of the kids’ homes, and one set sent to us. She would read while Kennedy (or Abbi and
Ezra, at different times), followed along looking at the pictures in their
copies. We were making an unexpected use
of video conference technology. It works
well, and has been a big hit. I am sure
it also has something to do with the excellent choices of children’s books
RaDene has picked out. One is titled,
“How to Babysit a Grandma,” but Kennedy insists that it is “How to Babysit a
Nana.” We are consistently corrected by
her if we ever slip. The video book
reading is not the same as having them on our laps, but a lot better than
nothing.
On Wednesday, September 2nd, I signed the Tuscola lease for
the sisters’ apartment. That surely set
a record between first sight on Monday evening to lease signing. It also broke a cardinal rule of renting
without seeing for myself. But it all
felt right. We spent a part of the day
shopping for housewares and scoping out furniture for the Tuscola apartment for
a return trip and set up.
Meanwhile, Sis Hatfield had another project. Our mission was being asked to help supply
service opportunities to some young sister service missionaries from the St
Louis area. That may sound like a
blessing to the stressed office staff, and it still might be someday, but right
now, Sis Hatfield has the duty of identifying tasks they can do and training
them, while not interfering with the existing office staff. That is tricky. Virtually nothing meaningful can be done in
this day and age without a computer, and we don’t have any extras of
those. Salt Lake has told us we have too
many. Well we don’t—they are clearly
working off an antiquated notion that people can share computers, which doesn’t
work unless people are not in the office at the same time. Meaning that Sis Hatfield now needs to
negotiate with the service missionaries and the Jacobs, the only staff members
that are not in the office every day, to set schedules that work for everyone
involved. The service missionaries’
first task will be to put together a slide show of baptisms that Pres Bell has
typically produced. But he is not
available to train them, and his software isn’t available in the office
either. So Sis Hatfield must now train
on a job she hasn’t done with software she doesn’t have or use. They are all troopers though, with the
service missionaries staying until 9:30 that first night trying to get that
slide show done after several slow and false starts.
Another piece of good news was received from the Fenton sisters in the
Columbia zone. They have a member that
says they have lots of furniture to contribute to the mission, which we badly
need at this point. They will get me
some details about what, when, and where.
Thursday, September 3rd and we are back on the road towards
Tuscola. I will stop in Arcola, 20
minutes before Tuscola, to meet the landlord, pick up keys, and drop of the
deposit and rent check. By the way, I am
writing many personal checks, acting as bank for missionary apartments. We get reimbursed eventually, but most often
the mission can’t move fast enough to get vendors approved and checks
written. Fortunately, we haven’t exhausted
our liquidity in our missionary service, but we have fronted a lot of money to
make this happen. Arcola is an even
smaller version of Tuscola. It has huge
grain elevators, a railroad line, and a hippy memorial park. (I don’t know why.) But meeting the landlord in his old downtown
office was a scene right out of Mayberry RFD, North Carolina. The buildings were definitely that old, and
sparsely used. But the staff was
friendly and the landlord looked for all the world like Wilford Brimley himself. He couldn’t have been more gruff or gentle. (Nobody under 60 will have the faintest idea
what I am describing in this paragraph.)
Up the road to the moment of truth:
had I made a big mistake? I was
delighted to find that the apartment was clean and renewed. The refrigerator was brand new. The carpet was new, and the paint seemed
quite fresh. Now, don’t misunderstand,
the apartment complex is probably 30 years old, at best, but at least lately,
it had been taken care of. The windows,
to my amazement, were new vinyl framed windows with good screens. We immediately popped open every window and
began to air it out. We had come
prepared with buckets, rags, and the secret weapon, white vinegar, to wipe
everything, and I mean everything down, to help eliminate the smoke odor. We were taking advantage of the completely
empty apartment to do the work. The
sisters pitched in too. By 1 pm or so,
the cleaning was done as best we could do it, and I took everyone for
sandwiches while the smoke and vinegar odor went out the doors and
windows. Then we moved them in. By the time we turned on the AC, it was
smelling pretty fresh, if I do say so myself.
The sisters were happy and I was relieved. It was amazing really. On Monday afternoon, I had zilch in
Tuscola. By Thursday afternoon, the
lease was signed and we had moved the sisters in. Now that is Providential Guidance, no
doubt. One last stop at the coolest
old-timey hardware store to make a spare key, and we were off for the return
trip to St Louis. We stopped at every
Walmart conveniently located along the way looking for computer desks and
chairs, and found zero. COVID had made
them hot commodities. We were back to
the office by 7:30 and I was able to convince Sis Hatfield to leave by
9:30. Short day, but satisfying!
Saturday, September 5th was JustServe day for us. Elder Jeremiah Morgan, the new Area Seventy
and his wife had been visiting with Pres Bell the past couple of days. On Saturday morning, he wanted to participate
in a local JustServe project. Rock
Erickson, the local JS coordinator, had been encouraging the stake JS
specialists for months to make this a big day for projects all through their
respective stakes and around the mission.
As it turned out, Rock cut his Missouri heat respite short and come back
to St Louis and pulled a JS project together.
He arranged for a St Louis park clean up sponsored by the Friends of
Lafayette Park and St Louis Parks. Stake
JS specialists are ideally integral members of their communities to help
nonprofits connect with the JS resources, particularly web promotion and
volunteer forces (not least, the missionaries).
That is not everyone’s talent though, so stake JS specialists sometimes
struggle. It turned out to be pretty light duty, because the park was in
surprisingly good shape. (Sis Hatfield
and I won the garbage prize, mostly because we found a broken down folding
chair.) Lafayette Park is the third
largest in St Louis, behind Forest Park and Tower Park, and is in honor of the
French friend of the American Patriots.
It is beautiful, and surrounded by period houses that are colorful,
because zoning ordinance do not allow any changes to house architecture, except
color. Sis Hatfield and I did some night
before contacting of the St Louis zone missionaries and a few others, like the
ever dependable housing assistants, so that we had a good turnout and made a measurable
difference to the park. We concluded our
project with a discussion with the volunteer park historian, an interesting and
appreciative gentleman. I think he was a
JS convert.
After the JS project we had a mission office staff meeting, including
Elder and Sis Morgan. The meeting was
not nearly as remarkable as hearing Elder Morgan’s conversion story. He was raised in Lamoni, Iowa, a member of
the Community of Christ (Reorganized) Church.
His father left the family when he was very young, but his mother was faithful
all her life. She raised him in the light
of the Restoration. He always knew that
Joseph Smith was a prophet and that the Book of Mormon was the Word of God. Sometime in his middle teens, he learned
something about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and for a time
went to meetings at both churches on Sunday.
He came to know that the CJCLDS was the fullness of the gospel, and he
became a member, against the wishes of his devout mother. She never would accept the Gospel as we know
it. On her deathbed, she asked her son
Jeremiah not to perform baptism for her when she was gone. He has not done so, yet, partly out of
respect for his still living stepfather.
It generated some discussion about the offshoots of the Church, which
are many, with some interesting views on the Restoration and all that
entails.
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