7 - 13 June 2020 We Are Strong

On Sunday, June 7^th we had a video fireside.  I was looking forward to it, because the speakers were Gifford Nielsen and his wife Wendy.  Giff was the BYU quarterback when my family moved to Provo all those years ago, and he was the first of a long line of admired football players that I cheered for.  He is also a General Authority Seventy, and the President of the North America Central Area, which covers the Missouri St Louis Mission.  When I first heard of the fireside, I thought it must surely be going out to a wide audience.  I was surprised to tune in and find it was just our mission.  That meant the audience was small enough we could see all the participants.  And I was embarrassed that I wasn’t wearing a tie, much less a coat, which is standard dress in the MSLM (and maybe the NAC Area) for missionaries attending meetings.  I joke with Sis Hatfield that President Bell was obviously a young missionary in England, trained to default to a suit.  Maybe it has something to do with CES training too, I don’t know.  But if he had been a missionary in Thailand, he would be much more comfortable in shirt sleeves.  I wore a suit coat twice on my mission:  on the way out, and at a wedding.  That was it.  We’ll see if the Church’s modified dress code ever makes it to the MSLM!

Elder Nielsen and his wife had many great messages.  But perhaps the message that meant the most to me was his discussion of labels.  We know each other by many labels.  I’ve been a student, a skier, a BYU fan, and for a long time, a lawyer.  Right now I am a missionary and a grandfather, among other things.  All labels, to one degree or another, are limiting.  Elder Nielsen pointed out that the only label that does not create any limitations is our first title—children of God.  In fact, that label brings limitless potential.  We are first and most importantly offspring of Heavenly Parents, which means we cannot be put into any box.  We can do and be anything.  Earth’s greatest accolades do not begin to match the simple description we came with:  Child of God.

On Tuesday, June 9^th, COVID became a little too personal.  Elder John, a young housing assistant had not felt good for a couple of days, and on this day, his fever spiked to 103 and he had a sore throat.  Our mission nurse sent him to urgent care, fearing the worst.  The doctors and nurses, following protocol, actually met Elder John outside, and one after another, shook their heads grimly.  From all appearances, he had it.  Finally, a nurse jammed a swab up his nose (into his sinus, Elder John is sure), and sent it off for testing.  We would find out in three days.

Meanwhile, the missionaries that had been with him on P-day were all instructed to self isolate.  The mission nurse and her husband followed their own advice.  Few had spent more time with Elder John than me the preceding few days, and as luck would have it, Sis Hatfield had shared his air for several hours in close truck cab quarters on a trip to the O’Fallon zone two days before.  We had to self isolate too.  On Wednesday, we were having the second day of a mission-wide video zone conference.  With a few adjustments, we could participate from our apartment.  We went into the office early before anyone would possibly be there and got our notes, carefully wiping surfaces as we left.  Not many people went into the office that day, under the circumstances.  After the video conference, we did as much work as we could on our laptops.  But I finally got antsy, and frankly, a bit frustrated, because my work is pretty paper records intensive, so there is only so much I can do.  So about 7 pm we walked the mile and a half to the office, feeling confident that anyone that might have been there would have left, and worked at our stations for several hours, then walked home in the dark. 

By Thursday noon, we were starting to feel grumpy and a bit trapped.  Even after the short couple of days we were starting to see the frustration that was building as we felt fine, but were limited in the work we could do.  Sister Hatfield is the main switchboard operator for the mission, after all.  How do you do that without being at the phone?  The list of restraints seemed almost endless.  We were skirting around the edges of our responsibilities.  And it is really hard to feel motivated to get up and dressed and going when there is no where to go.  I had much greater empathy for the isolated missionaries.  We have been spoiled in having an office to go to pretty much throughout the COVID time.  We have been socially restricted, for sure, but at least we had another venue to go to.  Finally, the call came.  Elder John’s test came back negative.  He didn’t have COVID, and neither did we.  Whew!  That was an experience I don’t want to repeat.  But we probably will.  Health experts say that 60-70 percent of the population will need to have immunity before this slows down. 

Having the all clear was all we needed to get right back to work.  RaDene headed for her desk at the office and me and the housing assistants, including Elder John, who felt remarkably well by now, headed for Shilo West to prepare one of the few apartments still vacant for missionaries.  It had gotten the time and attention of the missionaries that had lived there last, so I was hopeful, but alas, on inspection, sure enough, it needed some senior missionary effort.  As was our pattern, I directed the housing assistants in pitching useless stuff, and donned the rubber gloves to get down to the nitty gritty.  It took much longer than planned, and in the end, I had a list of things I would need to procure and bring back to make it habitable.  I also tried calling the landlord to ask if there was an empty unit we could swap for and get some better floors and finishes.  No luck.  But they were somewhat sympathetic that the mission has been in the unit continuously for more than eight years.  That long will take its toll on carpet, linoleum, paint, etc. no matter who the resident is.

Have I related the story of our recently wedge shaped trailer?  A couple of weeks ago, Elder Everton, the vehicle coordinator came to me one evening and said, has anyone called you yet?  As it happened, no one had called me, so I didn’t know quite what to say other than, no, I haven’t gotten any calls this evening.  It was a very ambiguous question, but he said nothing more.  Later that night I knew what he was asking about.  The housing assistants called.  Elder Scheurman had forgotten he was towing the trailer and had run into the concrete beam of a parking garage.  The garage won the fight.  The truck got through, but the trailer was too tall.  About 3-4 feet of the top of the trailer had been mashed down.  They got it unstuck, but some seams were pulled apart, which is a problem in rain-prone Midwest weather.  Maybe worse from my perspective, I couldn’t stand up anymore.  And I about scalped myself on the bent and twisted roof ribs.  Elder Scheurman felt terrible.  He wanted to know what to do.  He wanted to know if he should tell President Bell.  I calmed him, and we agreed that it was best for Pres Bell to hear it straight from him.  And we duct taped some of the gaps, making it somewhat more protected, at least towards the back of the trailer.  It’s a big deal to the missionaries because they are told that there is a one strike policy on avoidable accidents and driving privileges are revoked. 

We figured out where the trailer had been purchased a few years ago and with some effort, I made an appointment to go see them to get some bids on repair or replacement.  The damage was enough that the yard couldn’t do the work, but they took pictures and sent them to the factory in Arkansas for a repair bid.  One thing we had learned in the process of the trailer folks looking over our trailer was that the axel hubs needed tightening.  Knowing that there was a fair chance the Church vehicle department would not want to bother to fix the trailer (I had already seen how hail damage could qualify a car as a total loss), I didn’t want to run up a big bill lubing axels and tightening hubs.  Still, we needed to make some long trips with the newly wedge shaped trailer setting up apartments.  I didn’t really want to do that with wobbly wheels.  With a few tips from the trailer store and a YouTube tutorial, Elder John, who is quite mechanically inclined, joined me in the task. 

We got up early on Friday, June 12 and had a little Indy pit crew practice.  I had new missionary training to be ready for, and then a staff meeting, but right afterwards we needed to hit the road for the Columbia zone, which was almost guaranteed to be a long trip.  So we started the day jacking the trailer, pulling tires and wheels, tightening axel nuts, and lubing the axels and hubs.  That would at least make me feel safe and more responsible about taking the trailer out all the way to Moberly, Macon, and Columbia setting up apartments.  We did get a recommendation for a barbeque restaurant in Macon.  It felt strange, but the housing assistants and I sat down in a local establishment and splurged a little.  In places like Macon, it seems like the social distancing was never observed quite like the national authorities would have expected. 

On Saturday, June 13^th we were still pressed for time, knowing that missionaries were coming next week and another zone that needed a lot of housing set up.  Yes, we are in the stage of bringing back missionaries to well past the number we had before COVID.  I persuaded the Elders to meet me at my new favorite mattress warehouse, which really is a warehouse, meaning they have stock on hand (yay!).  We bought five more beds and frames, put them in the trailer, and hoped it wouldn’t rain for a few days.

Meanwhile, RaDene and I celebrated our anniversary early.  She had gotten us reserved tickets for the opening of the Missouri Botanical Gardens.  It was a lovely day, sunny and warm but not steaming hot.  Many of the corners of the garden were closed, and it was obvious that many beds had not been attended to.  But the main path, nearly 3 miles in length, has so many glorious gardens: English woodlands, Japanese, rose, lilies, ponds, streams, and on and on.  The collection of stately trees, some going back to the founding in 1859, is magnificent.  Also on the property are three period houses.  The benefactor Henry Shaw’s garden home, his gardener’s home, and Shaw’s city house relocated to the garden after his death.  We look forward to exploring more, and sharing it with anyone who might visit! 

Hungry, we tried sandwiches at the garden café, but they were lacking.  We had a solution for that—ice cream.  I don’t know why, but St Louis seems to have more than its share great ice cream, and there is a great shop not far from the gardens in the same historical district.  Because of COVID, we ordered by phone, and waited and people watched on the sidewalk under a shade tree until our orders were cheerfully delivered to us.  My “rocky road” was undoubtedly the best rocky road I have ever had.  The chocolate ice cream was so rich, the nuts were mostly cashews (what a great idea!), and the marshmallows were nothing like what you buy in the bag at the grocery store.  I’m salivating just thinking about it.  We had to hurry home and get looking like missionaries again to join the Zoom video call to be introduced to the missionaries coming next week.  They are a good looking bunch.  I am impressed by these young people who have the courage and determination to accept a new assignment, somewhere different and perhaps less exotic than their original calls.  It would have been so easy to have ended their missions with no questions or expectations of additional service.  But here they come to strengthen us, like reinforcements to Helaman’s stripling warriors.  Alma 57:6.

31 May – 6 June 2020 A Rose

Sunday, May 31^st was eventful.  We took flowers and condolences to Sister Annie Stewart, our 94 year old widow.  Her daughter had not only contracted COVID, she had died.  Of course there was little we could do and the services were family only.  We offered what comfort we could to a sweet lady now outliving her children. 

Later, RaDene and I piled in the truck with the moving assistants to limit the traffic and stood in the front yard of the mission home to collect departing missionary luggage (me), distribute travel documents (Sister Hatfield), and say goodbye as best we could (both of us).  COVID makes goodbyes much more sterile than they should be.  And frankly, despite our urgings, these young people could not be restrained from final embraces with those they have served with, doing the hardest and most meaningful thing of their young lives.

We had invited the three housing assistants to our apartment for dinner.  We knew it was a farewell dinner of sorts for Elder Schuerman, although he didn’t know it.  I guess we were getting too hungry for barbeque, because we tried a honey glazed barbequed chicken recipe on the stove top grill.  It was a miracle we did not have the fire department for dinner.  By the time I had it all cooked, every door and window was open, with fans set through the kitchen.  But I didn’t care, it tasted great.  We are wondering how we can barbeque though.  The apartment complex has a strict rule against open flame cooking, in or out of the apartment. 

Just as we were about finished, the sisters who had traveled all the way from Columbia to drop off their departing companion knocked on the door, needing something from Sister Hatfield, and asking to use the bathroom.  The elders and I hustled outside for our dessert, while Sister Hatfield fed a second round of dinner to the sisters.  Funny we haven’t hosted anyone for months, and this night we had people over for dinner twice.

On Monday, May 1^st I went to the Oak Valley YSA apartment in St Peters, MO.  President Bell had decided that he wanted to move out the elders and put in sisters.  I just had a hunch it wasn’t ready for the transition.  Boy, was I inspired.  It was a disaster.  A kitchen drawer was broken, sitting on a counter, a hanging ceiling light was broken and dangling, one of the panes of the sliding glass door was shattered, abandoned shoes and clothes filled the closets, and on it went.  I was actually pretty discouraged.  I called the elders that were last there and told them (with the President’s encouragement (prodded by Sister Hatfield!)), that they needed to spend tomorrow, their P-day, working on the problem.  Meanwhile, the Elders and I rolled up our sleeves and dove in for a first cut.  I was pretty discouraged and on the edge of angry, but by now Elder Schuerman was well trained on cleaning and decluttering, and inspired us to action.  We also took the weights set out and delivered them to some elders in nearby Dardenne Creek where they might get used, and certainly would make cleaning easier in Oak Valley.

Tuesday, May 1^st was the day before transfers, and so there was plenty to do.  We were opening up a new area of Spanish speaking missionaries, called San Carlos 2.  We needed to move bunkbeds out into the spare bedroom so regular single beds would be available for the new companionship.  It was frustrating that the rails and hardware were deficient to hold it together firmly.  It needed some attention or to be thrown away.  Later that afternoon, we went back out to Oak Valley YSA, holding our breath a bit, hoping that the elders had done some serious work for their P-day.  To my relief, they had made a strong effort.  With a couple more hours of cleaning and polishing, I would not feel embarrassed about sisters coming in tomorrow.  So, I donned the rubber gloves (I’ve gone through several pairs by now) and the elders took my directions.  After that, we stopped a burger place for one last meal with Elder Schuerman before transfers tomorrow.  Back at the office, Sister Hatfield joined us for a planning meeting.  There is never too much planning for a transfer.

On Wednesday, May 3^rd we had our 4^th transfer in 7 days.  Mind you, these are only supposed to happen once every 6 weeks.  But it is sunny today, verging on hot.  I think we have proven out our COVID transfer process. 

It was a wistful day for me though.  I have grown really fond of Elder Riley Schuerman, but with all the changes in the mission, the President was in need of leadership, and Elder Schuerman was made a ZL and sent to Champaign today.  He had about convinced himself that he had dodged the bullet for this transfer, mostly because he stayed through the regular transfer and it seemed unusual to make such a change on a special transfer.  He has become an organized, forward thinking young man in the time he has been an assistant.  And with his technical skills, he helped streamline several processes in the office that needed help, several of which will have long term benefits, like improving proselyting materials ordering.  This, and he is just a happy, optimistic, hard working, humble young man, with style and good humor.  Oh well, missions, like the rest of life, go on.  Best of all, Elder Schuerman and Elder John had a baptism two weeks ago, so the transfer was a success by that measure.

In our post transfer efforts, the (now two) housing assistants and I went to the Frontenac sisters bunk room and repaired a broken rail.  And by now I had bought some long screw fasteners which would hold the San Carlos 2 bunks firmly together by gosh.   We also made a delivery to Rockwood 1^st, and took down the tri in Rockwood 2^nd.  Sister Hatfield had reminded me that the senior companion in Rockwood 1^st was made a district leader and trainer, after having served as a zone leader.  To some, this might have seemed like a demotion.  Sensitive like she is, Sister Hatfield urged us to encourage this young man when we saw him.  As we drove down there, I mentioned the situation to the assistants.  When we arrived, I was tickled that Elder John, the cowboy from Idaho, spoke with love and tenderness to the district leader, explaining how the President must trust him more than anyone else in the mission, having placed a new companion in his trust, assigned him district as leader, and designated the area for biking (meaning, no car for the hot summer months).  I could tell that the encouragement was welcomed.  We left with a prayer and saw smiles on the faces of the elders we left.  The lessons we learn in our church service.

At Rockwood 2^nd, of the sisters with COVID fame, we disassembled the set up for the third missionary, because one of the COVID survivor sisters had been transferred out.  Sheepishly, one of the sisters showed me a patch of sheetrock in the bathroom where all of the paint, mud, and tape had deteriorated down to the green board.  I took a little bit of a lick’n from the apartment manager when I reported the problem.  But she was right.  There is no reason why this should have gotten to this point without being reported sooner.  It is just hard for the missionaries to treat their dwelling like more than extended hotel rooms to dip in and out of, with little ownership during their time living there.

On Friday, June 5^th we made a follow up trip to Oak Valley YSA.  We replaced the broken living room light fixture, changed the furnace filter, and refabricated the kitchen drawer rail.  Not a bad place now, after considerable effort by many.

But this day was hard.  Our daughter in law was being induced and we were completely out of position to help like a parent feels she or he should.  Gratefully, extended family filled the breach.  We also sorely missed not being able to be a part of the earthly greeting party, an opportunity that doesn’t happen very often in one’s lifetime.  We had consoled ourselves in a long made plan to go home in July for a brief visit and a baby blessing, but even that is not practical given the COVID concerns of air travel.  Broken hearts might be a little dramatic, but not much.  But we will quit wallowing and instead rejoice.  Little Amelia Rose is blessed to be in a family that loves her, and she is beautiful by any standard.  Even the housing assistants, our near constant companions said so.  Welcome Millie, as Abbey sweetly said, or Rose, as Ezra said, we love you too.

Saturday, June 6^th was one of those rare days where I persuaded Sister Hatfield to leave the office and join us on a small trip to the O’Fallon zone.  The Fairmont City Spanish elders had told us a few days before that their washer had quit working.  Maybe it was karma—we replaced their dryer not more than two weeks ago.  As we were leaving, the Fairmont elders warned me that maybe we should put off the trip because there were protests scheduled for that afternoon in their small town.  Looking at the schedule, I could not see another window of opportunity for some days, so we said we would come anyway, being alert to our surroundings.  Sure enough, the relatively small town of Collinsville, IL had streets blocked, a good size police presence, and people about looking like they were organizing for a march.  We carefully avoided the crowds and went the back way. 

After removing the broken washer and installing the replacement, consulting on a toilet leak, and delivering new missionary handbooks, we had a good visit.  Elder Windmiller was special to us because we came to know him quite well in our branch before he had transferred out, and because Sister Hatfield had helped him a lot with phone problems.  His companion, Elder Konold, turned out to be from the Grossmont Ward in San Diego—the very ward my family attended when I was in 9^th and 10^th grades.  We enjoyed reminiscing on the community and ward.  I had a rush of feelings as I thought about this formative time in my life so many years ago.  So now I have a connection with Elder Konold.  It seems there is something about every missionary that is special and relatable, once you know them.

24-30 May 2020 Transfers Like Never Before, Never Again

Whatever reprieve last week was, this week is its antithesis.  It was time to implement our revamped transfer process, because we would begin receiving missionaries on Monday, May 25^th and start conducting transfers in the mornings while welcoming additional arriving missionaries in the evenings for the next three consecutive days.  This week was a “special” transfer, meaning it wasn’t part of the every six week calendar that the Missionary Department has mapped out for years in advance.  In that respect, it was not unlike a lot of transfers we have had in the past several months.  But what was different this time was the Missionary Department decided that sending out too many missionaries in too large of groups was not good health practice.  So they broke the large group of missionaries they were sending into 3 groups, and sent them on consecutive days.  I sure hope we prevented someone from getting sick, because it about did the mission staff in.  Arrivals and transfers are a big deal.  Getting ready for one is challenging.  Getting ready for three would have been overwhelming, especially while trying to keep social distance.  The ace up our sleeve was we saw this coming, and we had a plan.

Tuesday, May 26 was our beta test.  We had lists and schedules and had been checking and rechecking for several days.  Now it was time to do it.  We had a new set up scheme in the Frontenac parking lot, and the senior missionaries, moving assistants, and APs arrived an hour and a half early to get ready.  We had driveways to block off, traffic cones to place, tables and chairs to set up in stations, parking areas to designate, luggage to set out, mail and other deliverables to assemble, and our secret weapon, transfer instructions, in three different colors for handing out. It was a warm, sunny day, and the set up went well.  Some missionary cars arrived earlier than we had planned, throwing us off just a bit, but we recovered.  By the time President and Sister Bell got there with the new missionaries, we had a good deal of the transfer work completed, which was the goal.  Our plan had really helped. 

Meet Elder Nathaniel Nelson.  He became a third housing assistant today.  Ordinarily after three transfers one housing assistant is sent back to the field.  Not this time.  We have three Has.  This is a bit odd, but these are strange times all around.  Elder Nelson is a bright young man, interested and skilled in the performing arts.  He might just bust out in a show tune at any moment.  And he’s good!  But, even though he is from Wyoming, he seems a stark contrast to the rough and ready other two housing assistants, especially Elder John, who fancies himself a cowboy.  Missions bring all kinds together in the service of Christ.

Off we go for post-transfer work—first a stop at a new found mattress warehouse store that supposedly has twin foundations ready and available.  And yes, they do!  The simple pleasures of a housing coordinator.  Then we left for Rockwood 2^nd to set up a Tri.  Normally, this wouldn’t be that big a deal, but Rockwood 2^nd is the apartment of the only two known cases of COVID-19 among the missionaries.  Sisters Austin and Greer had suffered together for about six weeks, and only recently found themselves getting back to normal.  President has assigned a new incoming sister to join them, and she needs a place to sleep.  I must admit, it felt a little—hmm, I don’t know what the word is—something like uncomfortable?—to go into a place where you know that the Corona virus has been in force.  We kept our masks on and stayed socially distant.  What would it feel like to actually move in there with the rccovered missionaries?  The new sister is brave!  But Sister Austin and Sister Greer look good, so its just a mental thing (right?). 

Then we went to St Charles North to deliver luggage that wouldn’t fit into the Sisters’ car at transfers earlier today, to O’Fallon, Missouri to drop of a Missionary Support Funds card to a hungry missionary, and finally to Troy to set our second apartment that would hold four missionaries, at least until I can find another apartment in the area.  This last arrangement includes a young man that Sister Hatfield looks after because of their shared diagnosis, so I have some feelings for him.  He is brave too.  He could have taken the easy way out and gone home during the COVID purge (that sounds wrong, but it was a difficult and negative experience for most everyone), but he (with Sister Hatfield’s encouragement and support) decided to stay.  He now gets to add on top of the social isolation period a cozy living arrangement.  I’m proud of him.

Wednesday, May 27^th was the second test of our new transfer process.  And the forecast was for rain.  We recommended to move the transfer stations into the gym, but the decision was we

would conduct the transfers outside, rain or shine.  This time it was definitely rain.  In fact, there was a small river dividing our parking lot space in two.  The HAs went to the mission home to borrow some patio umbrellas, which were of marginal help.  The square shade tent clearly was for shade, not rain.  Packing tape would not stick to hold up signs.  Tables could not be kept dry.  We had to keep luggage and bedding (especially pillows) in the trailer.  It rained constantly during the hour we had for set up and the 45 minutes of transfers.  Jackets became a wet nuisance.  Afterwards, it took three days for my shoes to dry.  Only about the time that the Bells arrived with the new missionaries did the rain ease off a bit.  We were clearly not as smooth as yesterday in the clear weather, but we did it.  I’m not sure the benefits of doing this outside in the weather outweighed the burdens.  We’ll talk about this more at the staff meeting on Friday.

On Thursday, May 28^th we did it again.  Only it didn’t rain this time, and we were smart enough to leave a bunch of our stuff in the back hallway of the building where it was easily retrievable.  We were learning, if not exhausted.  After the transfers we headed for the Columbia Zone to Fulton,  to drop off some chairs, and to Riverview South in Jefferson City.  I need to make a decision to renew the lease there, or not.  And we have had a couple of issues, like ants, so I really did want to take a look.  A new Elder Logan Morrison just assigned to serve in Riverview is the son of my cousin’s best friend in Arizona.  So it gave me the chance to welcome Elder Morrison to the mission. 

Having done all this, it was getting late, and the elders are hungry.  We talked about what we could eat, and I learned a little secret.  Thursdays are boneless 2 for 1 day at Buffalo Wild Wings.  The missionaries take frequent advantage of this.  And since I had three assistants, the arithmetic was just right to split orders.  We found one in Jeff City, and from the parking lot phoned in our order.  It was hilarious though, because it was raining and banging on the truck roof so hard that Elder Scheurman and the hostess could not hear each other.  It was a wonder it worked at all.  In the 15 minutes we waited for the order to be ready, it slowed enough for us to go in and buy our wings.  When we got inside, to our surprise, there were people eating at tables.  Sheepishly, and not knowing for sure whose rules we might be breaking, we asked if we could eat our takeout inside.  They obliged, and I left a good sized tip.  This was my first eat in meal in months, and it felt good.  We were so tired after this week that we took turns driving the 2.5 hours back to St Louis.   

17-23 May 2020 Plenty to Do in a Down Week

This week was one of those rare weeks when we didn’t have missionaries coming or going.  But we knew that was temporary.  For my part, I used it to get better prepared for transfers next week.  On Tuesday, we moved the Assistants to the President from Renew Creve Coeur, a near by apartment complex, to the Arlington apartments, where we live.  A couple of months ago the Arlington apartment had been left by our senior CES missionaries, the Thomsons.  We had used the apartment on and off for various meetings and dinners, but had not moved anyone back in.  We wondered if we might see the Thomsons return or have some other senior missionary need.  That didn’t seem to be happening any time soon.  But, we did need space for young missionaries being sent to us.  So we decided to move the APs for two reasons:  first, it freed up another apartment for Spanish teaching elders that were expected, and second, we could set up a second dormitory of sorts for incoming and departing young missionaries.  When I first got here, we had set up a sisters apartment with six bunkbeds for that purpose.  Elders stayed at the mission home with the President’s family.  But because the Bell’s have a son with a compromised immune system, it didn’t seem wise to introduce virus pathways to the mission home.  We would expose the APs instead!  But with two bathrooms and a large kitchen table (not to be confused with a large kitchen), the apartment was suited for the temporary housing purpose.

There were some challenges though, like what to do with the king size bed in the formerly senior couple apartment, not useful to the APs.  We jammed the mattress, frame, and headboard into the walk in closet, rendering it useless.  Rather cleverly though, we repurposed the two king box springs by setting them on twin frames and extra long twin mattresses.  Thank you, Amazon.  We have been buying mattresses in a box by the dozens, which I’m sure our local Amazon delivery man has found odd.  What could an office do with all of these, and why do I need to go to the hassle of carrying them through double glass doors and up elevators to an office?  One time during a meeting I got a Seattle originated call, which I stepped out to take.  It was the Amazon driver.  I told him to pile my mattresses by the outside front door, for which he was relieved.  Most of the office workers weren’t coming in these days, so they probably didn’t think too much about it.  Less humorous, Amazon ships metal bedframes by USPS.  Our postman is not amused by carting around those long, heavy boxes.  One day he made a stop at the office next to ours making his delivery before our office.  Someone exited that office unexpectedly, and with the door, started our frame boxes tumbling, landing on the postman’s ankle.  He has a very friendly relationship with Sister Hatfield, seeing her face to face almost daily.  So he related the tale of why he was smarting.  I felt a little sorry that my housing order had contributed to his pain.  Hey, Amazon, the postman is not set up to deliver large, heavy items!  Use UPS or your own delivery trucks.

On Wednesday, May 20^th we made a few more forward looking efforts.  We moved the O’Fallon, IL zone leaders from their one bedroom apartment in the Shilo West teaching area to another apartment in the nearby town of Fairview Heights that has two bedrooms and two bathrooms, to be shared with a set of elders already there.  The thinking is that the vacated zone leader apartment would be a good place to put a second set of sisters in the area.  Honestly, I was pretty depressed when I walked into Shilo West.  First, I expect more from the zone leaders, whether that is justified or not.  They were not ready to move and their apartment was a mess.  It seems that their only real concern was to make sure that a huge collection of barbells, dumb bells, and other exercise equipment made it over to Fairview Heights with them.  We obliged, loading all the weights in the back of the mission pickup truck, which sagged under the weight.  And if that weren’t enough, the existing missionaries in Fairview were not the least ready for the arrival.  We quickly moved their desks, chairs, and general overflow out of the second bedroom, piling the second set of beds, desks, chairs, to say nothing of large pile of weights in the living room.  No one turn around in place.  Ordinarily, I would have had preliminary discussions with the missionaries to be ready for us.  This time, I spoke only to the lead zone leader and he took the responsibility of making the necessary communications and preparation.  I could say he sorely let me down, but my expectations were probably wrong.  Moreover, Sis Hatfield believes that he has been struggling with some issues of his own.  So I will withhold judgment.  Still, I told the ZLs I needed them to go back to the apartment we moved them out of and clean it deeply.  I won’t hold my breath.  But I have a report that it does look better.  I’m sure I need to take my rag and bucket back there before I will feel good about sending in sisters to live there. 

We still had the problem of the king mattress and headboard in the assistants’ apartment making the bedroom closet unusable.  President Bell had made an offhand comment that he didn’t love his mattress in the mission home.  So we picked it up from the APs’ closet and dropped it off in the living room of the mission home for President to give a real try.  I couldn’t figure out what to do with the headboard, though.  It was massive (and ugly, in my opinion; note the past tense).  Elder Schuerman new what to do.  As housing missionaries, we specialize in dumpsters.  We often have stuff to discard.  So we know where they are in all the apartment complexes and business parks.  We try not to use more than our share of dumpster space, spreading things out between them, and try to stick to places where we are tenants anyway.  But we do know about a lot of them.  One of them has a hydraulic compaction mechanism.  I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that the young elders love to smash things in that dumpster.  Buttons, motors, pistons, and pressure plates are always a male attraction.  You get the picture.  Yep, Elder Schuerman wanted to compact the kingsize headboard.  I relented, not really feeling like I had any other options:  It would basically cap off most dumpsters, and the donation centers are all closed because of COVID.  In the headboard went, to the squeals of delight of the elders as it bent, moaned, and finally cracked into pieces.  Secretly, I hope those seniors don’t return so I don’t need to tell them why we don’t have their headboard anymore.

On Friday, May 22^nd we made our last major influx preparation for the week.  We had given our notice to not extend a lease to management two months before a senior couple was scheduled to leave because we had no prospects of senior missionaries being assigned to replace them. When it was time to vacate, we had stored the departing senior couple’s furniture away into a temporarily vacant young missionary apartment.  (Vacancies happen from time to time as missionaries are moved around, but where it is too expensive to break a lease, particularly when the President thinks we will soon be coming back.)  I do hate to just throw things away, although my ability to store in this time of major apartment disruption is limited.  But now I knew I was probably out of time with the transfers coming next week and the need for young missionaries to have additional places to live and serve.  We went back to this young missionary apartment in Hazelwood and removed all the senior missionary furniture that we hadn’t found places to use in the meantime and then deep cleaned it.  By now, Elder Schuerman and Elder John were pretty skilled at all this—they do a great job of decluttering, which is mostly being able and willing to make decisions about what is usable and what is a distraction, often accumulated over years.  While they decluttered, I donned the rubber gloves.  I’m really good with Ajax and Pinesol. 

10 – 16 May 2020 We Can Do This Better

This week we spent our time figuring out how to make our transfer processes better.  Last week, we did okay.  By that I mean everyone got to where they needed to go, with keys, a companion, and a bed to sleep in, although I did end up with an extra pillow after all, so I’m not sure everyone had a pillow that night.  But we were unsatisfied with our social distancing.  It seems the in-field missionaries were too casual in their willingness to get out of their cars, congregate, and take too much time in getting the work of the transfer done (there is a lot of exchanging of information, keys, phones, people, cars, etc.).  This created some amount of confusion when the newly arrived missionaries came, and President and Sister Bell were concerned that there was more social interaction than was healthy under the COVID-19 circumstances we are in. 

We had been conducting the transfers in the parking lot of the mission office during the last couple of months during evening hours.  No one was working at the office park anyway.  And the Frontenac church building where transfers traditionally have been held is right next to the city offices and public safety officials.  It just didn’t feel right to look like we were flaunting the “no meeting” rules by having lots of cars and missionaries descend on the church, putting at least our reputation at risk.  Curiously, we decided to have a staff meeting at the Frontenac building, for several reasons, not least to take a closer look at the facilities and whether we might want to start moving our transfers back there.  But we were still a bit concerned for appearance sake.  When we arrived at the Frontenac building for our staff meeting, to our surprise, the parking lot was jammed with fire engines, police cars, ambulances, and too many first responders and city officials to count.  What was going on here?  Whatever it was, we noted that the city didn’t seem to have much worry about congregating at the church or careful social distancing.  That relieved our concerns about conducting transfers there.  I was still perplexed about what was going on though.  Later that night, I learned that like many places around the country, there was a special air force flyover of St Louis in honor of the brave caregivers.  (I think it was a formation of KC-130 refueling tankers manufactured by Boeing here in St Louis).  And wouldn’t you know, I saw a bird’s eye photo of the Frontenac church:  the first responders had used our large parking lot to space their first responder vehicles in huge block letters spelling out the word HOPE as a part of the honorary flyby.  This was an effort not at all apparent to us when we arrived for our meeting!

Sister Hatfield with all here organizational skill, had been ruminating and putting on paper ideas on how to standardize, streamline, and make our transfer process more safe in the COVID environment.  I finally caught her vision.  So then working together, we came up with checklists for each type of missionary coming through the transfer:  those just arriving, companions of those just arriving, and missionaries transferring in-field without involvement of a new missionary.  We went through many drafts, small meetings to build consensus, physical layout planning, stations, color schemes, cones, parking zones, and considerations and elements too many to mention.  Everyone would know their job!  I am tempted to, because it really was a monumental effort, but I will spare you any further details.  (Just let me know if you want color copies of the various missionary transfer checklists.)  Finally, on Friday, May 15^th we had one more staff meeting to get last inputs, make some adjustments, and be ready.  We will make good use of our detailed planning in the weeks to come.

It should be said that all of this may seem very engineering like, and it certainly had those elements, but it also was quite difficult.  The COVID environment takes its toll not only on those that suffer physically, but the emotional deprivations of social distancing showed themselves in our transfers and transfer planning more than any other of our experiences so far.  Our goal was to keep already isolated missionaries, including ourselves, continuously isolated through the transfer process.  So while they might see fellow laborers in the vineyard, they were to be kept from enjoying anything but a wave from a distance.  That is hard.  More, for those of us doing the planning and execution, there was plenty of strain as we tried to find processes that suited everyone, when each had a different perspective on what would work and the most important objectives.  We will all be happy when we find a normalcy that feels more human.

In the midst of this transfer work, there was regular housing to work on.  We worked hard to ready the St Charles North apartment for missionaries, hanging closet doors that of course had been removed, unclogging a drain, tightening the kitchen faucet, lubricating the door lock, and bringing clean bedding, all of which becomes common place.  I got a call from the sisters in Lake St Louis that their washer stopped working.  We had an extra one in inventory, so we took it out to them.  It only took one extra trip to Lowe’s for a replacement drain hose that was long enough to reach.  The sisters were grateful, and we always enjoy the Spirit in our departing prayers with the missionaries as we leave them.

Saturday, May 16^th was different.  We didn’t feel the need to clean an apartment for the first time in a long time for our preparation day.  Mitchell and Patric had purchased us a membership to the venerable St Louis Botanical Gardens, but now that the weather was good enough to go, everything public is closed.  We decided to go check out the gardens anyway.  Sure enough, the entrance had a closed sign, but we were able to slip in the delivery driveway to take a peek.  We could see this was a place we would enjoy when the time came.  But the security guard on the golf cart was making sure we did not get too close just yet.  Because it is set in a fairly quiet part of town, it has a sidewalk all around it’s several block size.  We parked the car and walk the perimeter, peering in where possible.  We were surprised when we made it around to the original gates that it was established in 1859.  Henry Shaw had come from England up the river to the city of St Louis to seek his fortunes 40 years before and his success allowed him to give a grand gift to the city and its residents.  RaDene and I thought about our own ancestors that were immigrating from England during this same period of time starting new lives in this strange new land.  I wonder if any of them stopped long enough to see the gardens?

On our way home we decided to get some food.  I rarely turn down the chance for a burger, and it turned out she was willing.  I coaxed her out of the car from her missionary help call, we donned our masks, and went in.  I was the first time we had together been inside (as opposed to in the parking lot) of a restaurant.  We stood carefully on the socially distant circles marked on the floor until it was our turn to order.  As we rather awkwardly hung around for Mitchell’s name to be called (our go to name for such occasions), we observed the kitchen workers with masks, but pulled down to their top lips, leaving noses exposed.  That didn’t seem particularly sanitary.  When we got our bag, we stepped outside and saw several tables with umbrellas, all vacant.  We decided to eat there rather than in the car.  But it all felt a little uncomfortable, not knowing when the last time the tables were cleaned.  The experience left us uneasy about eating out still. 

3 May – 9 May 2020 Coming Up Green

Sunday, May 3^rd.  On a too infrequent walk, I had my first hay fever sneeze of the season.  The grasses must be coming out.  It probably won’t be the last:  I’ve never seen more acres of thick green grass.  It seems like every homeowner, to say nothing of the farmers, owns a John Deere tractor for mowing.  We joke that folks don’t retire around here, they just mow.  Seriously, how do they keep up with it?  By the way, I’ve learned that corn is a grass, technically, which explains why southern Illinois is planted with so much corn.

May 5^th is our first special incoming missionary transfer.  We are starting to see the draft of where the 19 missionaries will be placed around the mission.  I’m sure that 19 new missionaries doesn’t seem overwhelming, but consider this:  each missionary has a companion, each companion must be brought to the transfers by a companion.  Each of those must leave with a companion.  So 20 missionaries coming very likely involves something more like 80 missionaries.  And those missionaries probably represent 25 to 35 vehicles.  To say nothing of luggage, mail, bedding, phones, keys, SIM cards, and documents.  Add in the Mission President and his companion, the office staff, Assistants to the President and housing assistants, and well, it is quite an undertaking for those 20 incoming missionaries.  Ah yes, lets add social distancing rules to the mix, and the challenge starts to present itself.

On transfer day, we must make final preparations.  I find myself short of a few box springs.  We go to Costco, the Mattress Firm, and a few other places.  It’s in vain.  Somehow, the COVID environment has drained the stores of bed parts.  I sort of suspect that the few stores that are open are having a run on goods, and resupply is challenging.  Fortunately, I’ve thought ahead a bit, and at least I will have mattresses and clean bedding, bought or laundered.  It seems that very a respectable mattress can be delivered in a surprisingly compact box, and I’ve bought a bunch.  I’ve also bought comforters and pillows, which we supply to new missionaries.  I’ve also found my way to the local laundromat and spent some time there, having collected during our vacant apartment cleaning project a fair number of mattress covers and comforters that are in good shape but need to be cleaned.  Some missionaries will temporarily need to make do with a good mattress set on the floor.  But either my chivalrous or sexist self reserves that lower station for the elders.  I dashed around setting up “tri’s” as we call them, in apartments where an odd numbered companionship has been assigned.  These tri’s regularly must be taken down.  But it makes for a bit of a mad dash just before and immediately after each transfer to get apartments ready.

Setting up for transfers is not all administrative.  We move people, luggage, bedding, vehicles, and set up a tent and tables to try to create some flow.  So we are on it several hours before the appointed time.  So as to avoid giving appearance of inappropriate church meetings (COVID rules, lots of cars and people), we are presently holding tranfers in our mission office parking lot.  No one is coming to work lately, so we don’t think anyone minds. 

We have tried to plan things so as many new missionaries as possible can arrive and leave the transfer quickly with their companions out to their teaching areas.  In ordinary times, there would be a large arrival dinner, some orientation, and spending the night at the mission home for the elders and a local apartment outfitted for the purpose for the sisters.  But we need to try to minimize COVID vectors, so we are trying to dispense with anything unnecessary and streamline.  In the end, we did it.  The transfer happened, but it wasn’t as rapid a process of getting the missionaries out as the President had hoped.  We have things to learn. And in spite of our intentions, a pretty good size group of sister missionaries spent the night together anyway, for a variety of reasons, sort of making that arrangement on their own. 

On Wednesday the 6^th, there were enough loose ends that I determined that me and the housing assistants needed to divide and conquer.  I sent them west to the Columbia zone, and I stayed closer to home, visiting the St Louis South zone (Crystal City), the western reaches of the St Louis zone (Washington City) and the Lake St Louis zone (O’Fallon, Missouri).  Missing keys, left luggage, forgotten mail, and so it goes.  We are the mission pony express.  Thursday the 7^th took us north and east to Springfield, Jacksonville, and Pittsfield, Illinois.  In addition to either setting up or taking down tri arrangements, we did some repairs along the way.  We hung blinds in the windows of the bedroom of the sisters in Pittsfield.  I trust the landlord won’t mind.  It just couldn’t be put off any longer. 

On Friday, May 8^th we held an orientation meeting for those new missionaries arrived earlier in the week.  But we did it by Zoom video conference, as so many things are done these days.  It was a chance for the President and companion to give some valuable thoughts, for the staff to give some training on their respective responsibilities in the office, and to hear from their AP colleagues.  I think we did a good job.  It is difficult to hold attention on a tiny screen that the missionaries hold in their hands and try as I might, it feels more like a lecture than an interactive exchange.  It turns out that we are much better at talking over each other in person, than over video, if you know what I mean.  After the new missionary orientation, the President and his staff had an extended discussion about how we could improve transfers in this COVID era.  We will have many more.

26 April – 2 May 2020 Here They Come

We experienced another first on Sunday, April 26th.  Sure, we had virtual Nursery with the grands and home sacrament just the two of us, but we also had a mission-wide devotional.  Pres Bell continues to look for new ways to inspire the young missionaries during this time of physical isolation.  Where ever they were around the mission, they connected by video conference to share another experience together.  I’m pretty sure this mission-wide Sunday devotional was another first—and we were there.  (By the time this is over, I’m pretty sure we will all be Zoom subscribers.)  Pres Bell invited his two mission presidency counselors and their wives, the Mahaffeys and the Slezaks to share some information about who they are and their testimonies.  They are great people, and a great bridge between the mission and the local membership.  They made the mistake of telling Pres Bell that they would be willing to help with the apartment cleaning and inventory project this week.  They may be sorry.  Missionary apartments can be surprising, good or bad.

On Monday, the plan was for RaDene to go with me across the Missouri River to St Charles and, wait for it, clean and inventory an apartment.  But we realized as we were getting ready that morning that that was optimistic thinking.  RaDene really couldn’t be away from the office.  She is the communication hub in so many ways.  And with prospects for missionaries coming, zone conference on Tuesday, reports to write (partly because they weren’t done on Saturday because of a cleaning project), she really needed to hold down the fort.  But, I had the trained housing assistants and I recruited a couple other elders in the area to come help.  We went in like a white tornado.  It seems like I scare each missionary that watches my decision making for the first few garbage bins, but pretty soon, they catch the vision and happily pitch along with me stuff that has accumulated over years of member donations, care package contents, and countless missionaries and that now has no discernible value.  And so the week would go.

Tuesday, April 28^th was zone conference.  Ordinarily it would be over three days at three stake centers, but like last time, we held one video conference across the entire mission.  For some, I know the experience is painful watching a small phone screen for hours at a time.  But on the whole, it works remarkably well.  The Spirit is not bound by present senses. 

On Wednesday, the assistants and I headed out for Macon, Missouri, a good three hours from St Louis.  I knew that the apartment was in tough shape, which is why I assigned it to myself, in addition to it being such a far trek.  Otherwise, the work was about how my descriptions have gone above.  But there was one tender mercy involved.  While we were enroute, one of the missionaries we were meeting to help us asked if I could give his companion, Elder Buck a blessing when we got there.  I responded that of course I would, not knowing what the problem was.  When we finally arrived, we went inside to find Elder Buck red faced and in tears.  I asked him what was wrong and he shuddered that his grandfather had died recently.  I asked how recently, and he said, earlier that morning.  President Bell had just the hour before called Elder Buck to give him the news.  Elder Buck and his companion, the housing assistants, and I all sat down and quite literally cried with each other for a while.  I could not help but recall losing my own Grandpa Reed while I was a world away as a young missionary.  We talked about Elder Buck’s memories of his grandfather and comforted him that his grandfather was now beginning a mission of his own.  Finally we circled together and gave Elder Buck a priesthood blessing.  Looking back, I am so glad that we took time to really listen and take some time to mourn with Elder Buck.  And as we got to work, Elder Buck seemed to be in much better spirits, working cheerfully alongside the rest of the day.  Not long before we left, Elder Buck came to me and showed me a picture on his phone and asked if I knew an Amy—his mother had said that I might know an Amy.  I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I looked at the picture, and it was David and Amy Rawson and their boys.  Elder Buck’s mother is Amy’s cousin.  Elder Buck’s Grandfather Ken is Amy’s uncle.  I told Elder Buck that I was related to Amy—she is my sister in law—which made me a relative of Elder Buck too, I reasoned.  He seemed contented to know that someone from the family had been there for him in his morning of sorrow.  Tender mercy indeed.

A cleaning on Thursday was remarkable for what happened near the end of the project.  Elder John had been invited to participate in a baptism going on in the Bear Creek Ward in Columbia, where he had come from the week before.  His former companion was baptizing a young lady and we together paused our work and witnessed the ordinance by video conference.  Only about five people were at the baptism in person.  But, this was Elder John’s 16^th convert in Bear Creek.  What a remarkable, humble missionary.  It was a beautiful thing to watch him talk and share his feelings by video, something that would never have happened now that he had been transferred without the COVID changes to missionary work.  And lucky for me, it was the first baptism I witnessed in the Missouri St Louis Mission, and it was by video.  Interesting times.

Saturday, May 2^nd finally arrived.  We have worn out many brushes, rags, and senior missionaries.  Our friends the Evertons have been particularly hard working.  We could not have made it this far without the work of many.  And now, there was one last vacant apartment to work on in Mt Vernon, Illinois.  I had really wanted to take the housing assistants because by now, they were well trained in what an apartment should look like.  But there were so many things that needed to be delivered in various areas that we could not stay together and do it all.  By Friday night, I had made a list of places for the assistants to make deliveries.  At least it was Saturday, so RaDene could go with me to Mt Vernon.  Thankfully, the apartment, although getting up there in age, was in great shape.  The last senior companion there, Elder Robb, got messages from us giving him the prize for best kept apartment.  We only removed two garbage bags of clutter and a bag of clothing donations.  Three garbage bags was a winner, by all accounts.  After doing a bit of polishing and door repairs (I must rehang doors in virtually every apartment I visit) we could check the last vacant apartment off of our list.  Elder Johnson, who met us to help clean and inventory, had made apple scones that morning and shared with us.  A treat for sure.

When we arrived home, we knew we needed to get caught up on a bunch of office work.  We struggled with whether to stay in P-day clothes or put on missionary attire.  We opted for the latter, grumbling a bit, and RaDene even had me turn the car around and go back so she could change, not feeling like she was dressed well enough.  We had not been there more than half an hour when President and Sister Bell and the APs came in to set up for a Zoom conference with the 19 incoming missionaries on Tuesday.  President Bell invited us into his office to participate in the conference.  We had completely forgotten about it, which is odd, because it was Sister Hatfield’s bright idea in the first place.  We needed the chance to orient and get acquainted with these missionaries before they even got on the plane because everything was happening so fast in their lives and in ours.  They and we had received their reassignments late Tuesday night into Wednesday morning.  President Bell gave us the chance to introduce ourselves and make a few remarks in the conference.  Well, we were sure glad that we had gotten dressed in missionary attire before we went to the office.  We stayed very late that night while, after the conference, RaDene set up interviews with the missionaries for Sunday and Monday.  We realized that with things moving so fast, and social distancing being a concern, we didn’t really have the luxury of having upwards of 80 missionaries, 40 cars, house keys, and SIM cards to exchange and transfer while waiting through the expected four hours it would take for regular intake interviews with the President and mission nurse.  The interviews needed to happen before the missionaries even got on their flights to come.  RaDene communicated with everyone and made it happen.  I think we are about ready for our first post-COVID missionaries reassigned after serving in foreign countries.

MSLM Photo memories of COVID 19

Our first of many Zoom Zone Conference - March 19, 2020
Sister & Elder Jacob, Elder Hatield, Sister Everton, Elders Newbold and Kelimb

The St. Louis branch of the rapidly formed MSLM Travel Agency - Tuesday March 24, 2020

The Utah Branch / Core of the MSLM Travel Team - Kamie Hubbard shown here at 5am Thursday March 26th

                                   

Lovely Ladies in Masks -first departing group March 26th

All 14 members of the main departing group on Thursday, March 26th

First arriving group (MTC Evacuees - Friday March 27th

AP's say goodbye to Elder Scott, (last flight out) and the office on Friday, March 27th