13-19 Dec 2020 Candy Cane Lane

 

Sunday, Dec 13^th we had a great video Primary with Abbi and Ezra.  Moroni’s lessons on Faith and Charity were planted in their fertile minds.  (The principle of Hope was one too many for our 20 minute lesson.)  It doesn’t always work too smoothly, but today was satisfying to Nana and Papa.  The sisters we visit in the branch were oh, so lucky this week.  Sis Hatfield has the best soft ginger cookie recipe ever, and she made some yesterday to share.  This is when we start putting on the holiday (waistline) spread.  We invited our beautiful missionary sisters from our neighborhood to dinner so that we could say goodbye to Sister Kyree Huffaker.  She was reassigned to Missouri St Louis in May from Korea Busan, and never left this teaching area.  As a consequence, we have come to know and love her well.  Tomorrow, she goes home to Montana.  Her companion, Sister Jarman, had a call to Korea also, but hasn’t made it there yet, arriving in MSLM this summer.  She shed many tears saying goodbye to her first and so far only infield companion, Sis Huffaker.  Like most things, there are a few advantages to our COVID environment.  This time, the entire mission has been invited to join a video fireside to hear the departing missionaries’ testimonies, something that was previously shared in a small group.  Pre-COVID, the senior missionaries were permitted to participate.  Since the pandemic, we have been excluded.  But today, 250 missionaries were strengthened by these stalwart missionary testimonies.

 Monday, December 14^th’s highlight was reading to the grandkids from the Christmas story book we sent to them.  The activity included sipping hot chocolate seated under the tree.  Simple delights are often the best.  Then its back to the office to work late on the mission newsletter.  Sis Hatfield is formatting pictures and I’m editing written testimonies for space and clarity.  It’s a lot of work pulling this together each time, and it is always done in the thick of transfer preparations.  This transfer the process is split, with the missionaries leaving flying out today, in time to be home for Christmas.  The incoming missionaries won’t come until the week after Christmas.  The practical effect is that many temporary arrangements are being made and the transfer will be incomplete for a couple of weeks. 

 Tuesday, December 15^th the housing assistants and I have a few chores.  We go to Fenton, Missouri in the South St Louis zone to set up a third bed, re-hang a bedroom door that has been torn off its hinges, and deliver a newly acquired kitchen table.  Then we are off to the O’Fallon, Illinois zone, where we deliver a bed to the O’Fallon YSA elders, make a spare key where an office copy has been lost, and deliver a few odd things to the Fairmont City Spanish elders.  Then its back to the office for the night shift.  There I learn that Sis Hatfield is very frustrated with missionary cell phones.  We have some very poor coverage in some areas and we have been trying to get help for months for these missionaries.  We are not supposed to make arrangements for WIFI, but have done so a couple of times where the missionaries are helpless to do any work without it.  Salt Lake wants to try some SIM cards from alternative cell signal carriers, but it has been a nightmare enabling and disabling SIM cards in an organized and timely fashion.  Our APs have been dead in the water with no phone connection for a day—an intolerable situation given their responsibilities.  And if that is not enough, I learn that Sis Hatfield’s work into the wee hours last night was all lost and she is has spent the day starting over again.  It is so easy to lose your work in the computer age.  Ugh.

 On Wednesday, December 16^th I am off to the discount department stores.  Yesterday I learned that my regular pillow supplier for newly arriving missionaries is out of stock and availability is uncertain for the foreseeable future.  Alternatives are expensive.  Because it sometimes takes a while to receive ordered pillows, I am on the case with energy because it won’t be that long before 16 new missionaries arrive and now I am worried about pillows.  It turns out my concerns were not justified.  Target had lots of pillows at a great price.  We load the truck up so Elder Buck, sitting in the back seat, can hardly see or move.  We stop at the Overland Park Hardware store to find some odd shelf pegs for some mission office bookshelves.  When I couldn’t find what I needed at the big box hardware stores, a manager at one finally took pity on me and suggested the local Overland Park Hardware store.  Wow, was that a find.  It is a tool hound’s dream, stuffed from floor to ceiling with all manner of gadgets, hardware, and gleaming tools.  And yep, they had a supply of the out of current design shelf pegs.  The mission bookshelf will be saved, and I have a new place to go for the often time strange supplies I need.  After that find, we head downtown to the Lindell East apartment to replace a balky smoke alarm.  While we are there, we find broken bifold doors on the laundry closet.  We take them off completely to examine them and see broken rollers and handles.  I know just the place I can find some replacements for these ancient doors.  For the evening, I join Sis Hatfield back at the office for—wait for it—yes, you guessed it—another late night working on the Harvester newsletter.  It is a night time and weekend project mostly because during the day, there are a hundred other missionary needs that Sis Hatfield must address during missionary waking hours, and often during Salt Lake business hours.  Nighttime is quiet time for working on the Harvester.

 Thursday, December 17^th.  The newsletter is complete.  Hooray!  But not so fast, with the split transfer, we won’t be able to complete it all until the missionaries come after Christmas and the baptisms are known for the month.  Yes, Sis Hatfield will be at it again in a couple of weeks for the second installment that this transfer will require.  We are in need of getting some vacuums fixed.  We brought one in from a sisters’ apartment a week or so ago, and I have been putting off getting it to the shop, mostly because I knew it would be a project for me before hand.  I don’t mind taking in broken vacs that are dirty, but this one was beyond the pale.  The beater bar looked like it had a long haired Persian cat wound around it.  And the dirt collection cup was past full, by two or three times.  I recruited the ever-willing housing elders and we did emergency first aid on this particular vacuum before taking it in.  I would be too embarrassed to take it in without some preliminary effort.  Without the Harvester to work on that night, Sis Hatfield and I take on the project of helping missionaries in Columbia, Missouri figure out where to get their phone repaired.  The screen is badly cracked.  They can’t do the research themselves because of internet site access restrictions, and they probably couldn’t do it anyway because they couldn’t see through the cracks in the screen.  I hope the Yelp reviews turn out to be trustworthy.

 Friday, December 18^th began with a notice that a new owner has purchased the apartment complex in Jacksonville, Illinois.  This is unfortunate timing, because we are scheduled to pay January rent on Monday, and it is a difficult process to get the centralized payables system of the church to approve a new vendor.  But by now I know the drill and draw up the necessary forms and immediately send them off to the buyer.  To my surprise, they have them back by the end of the day so we can submit them to the church.  We will keep our fingers crossed that the church approves the new buyer promptly next week so we can get payment to them on time.  The mail deliveries are enormous, and we spend a good deal of time sorting and organizing for deliveries.  The mailman is arriving later and later in the day lately.  He must be feeling the press of his increased load.  The Bells will be having family guests for Christmas and then for Addie’s wedding in early January.  Sis Bell like a room set up with a king size bed that has been stored for a while in a combination of places, the mission home, and our storage unit.  We loaded up the mattress from storage and set up the large wooden frame to get the room ready for the events of the season.  Afterwards, we head to the elders apartment in the Parkway 2^nd area.  We need to take down an extra bed because an elder has headed off to his original assignment in Africa, and to do something about bathroom mold.  I’ve been putting this off, but today is the day to don my rubber gloves.  My regret was that I didn’t have time to put on some cleaning clothes.  I’ve ruined at least two pair of pants with bleach cleaning missionary apartments, and I’m in danger of that again today.  After scrubbing and bleaching, it looks better, if not perfect.  Some errant maintenance efforts of the past calked over mold so that there is some deep in the shower cracks and crevices, but I left some disinfectant and instructions for additional applications.  We’ll see how it looks in a couple of weeks when I come back to work on blinds that I saw were badly damaged and bring some floor coverings to catch bike tire grime. 

 Later we get some gyros to take to Bells at the mission home so we can plan Christmas zone conferences next week.  There is much to do.  Then we are back to the office to check in a missionary with the airlines departing tomorrow morning, print his boarding pass, and make his treat bag.  The brave young man has an injury that requires surgery and serious rehabilitation, but he sounds determined to get better and return. 

 Saturday, December 19^th was mostly about shopping for Christmas conference food.  We store some at the mission home, and some we leave in the back of the car.  By tomorrow night we will be taking lots of it to the stake center kitchen.  It will be difficult to keep the office open to receive deliveries while we are at conferences Monday through Wednesday.  We recruited some help.  Sister Atkins, a delightful and dependable service missionary will take turns with the housing elders and Ancsi and Gareth to collect mail and then bring it to the St Louis stake center for handing out to the missionaries.

 We decide we needed some Christmas spirit so looked for some light displays we could see.  Some brief research yielded lists, but most seemed to be commercial sites, which wasn’t what I really had in mind.  Instead, I persuade Sis Hatfield to accompany me to Ted Drewes, a long St Louis tradition for frozen custard.  Sis Hatfield and Malory had made it there in July while I watched the grandkids, but the store had been closed shortly afterwards for a long time because of a COVID outbreak.  But now it is my turn.  The frozen custard counter remains popular indeed.  The night was cold, but the line was long.  I knew it would be good when I observed the teenagers with their parents.  It takes a good treat indeed to get a teenager to spend time with parents on a Saturday night.  RaDene had peppermint cream, and I had a turtle, the name for carmel, fudge, and pecans.  Both were delightful.  As we were leaving, we saw a long line of traffic being controlled by police.  We had an idea it might be a Christmas light destination.  We decided to get in line while we figured it out.  Sure enough, the queue was for Candy Cane Lane, rated number three on our must see lights list.  But the line of cars was a mile long and moving very slowly.  We decided to park and walk, which we probably needed to do after rich ice cream anyway.  Candy Cane Lane was a magical few blocks of intense lights on stately Eighteenth Century houses.  The residents have turned it into a street festival, with fire pits ringed with neighbors visiting one another, raising mugs of hot chocolate and beer (we are very near the Budweiser plant).  They raise money from the visiting line of cars for charity and have a great spirit about them.  We walk away thrilled with the luck of finding this gem very near the ice cream stand.

6-12 Dec 2020 “A” Is For the Angel

Sunday, Dec 6^th we continued a tradition that so far as I know was started by Sis Hatfield’s mother.  Sis Hatfield came to our marriage with a December Advent calendar complete with a token in each day’s pocket to pin on the colorful felt calendar’s tree.  The Christmas countdown left an impression that RaDene continued with our children, using it as an opportunity to teach about the symbols of Christmas.  This year Sis Hatfield found a children’s book that devotes a few pages to the different parts of the Nativity Scene.  We sent copies of the book to our grandchildren in Utah and Alabama.  RaDene also shipped Nativities where the parts and figurines will be opened as gifts and put in place as we go. Today we started our video calls to read the first pages of the book and examine the stable.  Every few days we plan to video call together to experience another chapter of the Nativity story.  There are other grandmothers that are doing their best to keep their families connected with technology during this time of social distancing, but few could possibly be more active and effective than Sis Hatfield.

Monday, Dec 7^th Sis Hatfield worked with three elders who have recently received news that they are heading to their original assignments in Ghana and South Africa.  In ordinary times, the primary hurdles would be tracking down passports and confirming visas.  In COVID, countries are requiring special forms, pre-travel health testing, and funds for arrival testing.  Sis Everton is trying to arrange for tightly scheduled COVID testing here in the mission.  Elder Jacob is putting special funding on mission support cards.  Sis Hatfield is helping the missionaries complete forms that are inaccessible by phone—the missionaries’ sole communication device, particularly with unknown website blocking software.  Her work is almost never straightforward.  She is mostly a problem solver.  And so am I.  today I received a three day Pay or Vacate notice from an apartment complex where we have five apartments and probably 16 missionaries.  Here it is the 7^th of the month and our rent check has not been received.  I’ve been doing this long enough that I am not overly concerned that we will be thrown out.  Most of the time the apartment managers actually have received our rent, and just haven’t posted it properly.  But this time, its on us.  We work on the rent on the 20^th of every month to do our best to ensure that the president’s signoff, the Salt Lake check writing and mailing, and the US Postal Service delivery can occur by the 1^st.  But occasionally it doesn’t work right.  And in COVID, it seems like the USPS is not as reliable as we have come to expect.  So, I’m scrambling to confirm that this missing check was actually approved, written, and mailed, and communicating with the landlord that I am on it and will deliver funds promptly.

Somewhat more mundane, I also go with the housing assistants to deliver a dryer to the Missouri River South apartment, and check their dryer vent for clogs.  This dryer has burned out twice now, and the only thing we and our repairman can figure is that it is overheating for lack of airflow.  The venting looks good, so that isn’t it.  We installed the dryer and crossed our fingers.  Back at the office, we realized that packages from USPS, UPS, and FedEx are overrunning our mail shelves.  The Christmas season gift giving is going to bury us.  We reorganize our storage room to make spaces three times the regular size to try to accommodate the packages, which will temporarily intrude on the Evertons’ usual work space, taking half of the conference table in their room.  We are also giving strict instructions to missionary leaders to collect and deliver mail frequently.  We will try to stay ahead of this and meet parent expectations to deliver the mail, come rain, snow, sleet, or hail. 

Tuesday, Dec 8^th is a trip to Poplar Bluff, the southern most corner of the mission.  Like most corners of the mission, there is only so much you can do to multitask way out there.  If you stop too much along the way, the day gets used up before you make it to the corner.  Poplar Bluff has had some significant problems, but they haven’t been emergencies, so I have put them off until now.  Today, we started the patch of a large hole in the wall.  None of the elders remember how it happened or who did it.  I suppose it doesn’t matter much, my goal is to avoid a landlord charge and fix it myself.  The glass shower door does not roll and the glass is falling out of the frame.  We take the door outside to take a good look at it.  With some stainless steel screws and clear silicone from the hardware store, we are able to get the glass secured.  We lubricate the corroded wheels and reinstall, and it seems all is in order.  One motivator for finally getting here is to deliver Elder Nelson’s bike to him so he can try to ship it home or sell it.  In our mission, we mostly have cars in teaching areas, but a few unlucky ones have bikes.  The policy is inconsistent about whether the mission provides the bikes or whether the missionaries provide their own.  If the missionary buys one, now he is probably stuck as soon as he is transferred because he will likely not need his bike any longer.  What is he to do with it?  It becomes an expensive purchase with short term use.  We had lunch in Poplar Bluff, and that was a bit startling.  I’m not sure what the health department rules are down here, but no one, cooks, servers, nor patrons wore masks in the restaurant, which was open for guests, and so far as I could discern, had no social distancing.  We the missionaries looked a bit out of place, which isn’t unusual, but I did get a little lecture as we were walking across the parking lot from an old red neck about the Pandemic being a conspiracy of some sort.  Yes, Poplar Bluff is a different environment than St Louis, and as they say, the Gateway to the Ozarks.

On the long drive home Elder Jacob and I conclude that our missing rent check can’t be replaced by Salt Lake—we just can’t afford the time or another mistake.  We need to figure out how to write a local mission check, or I need to cover this personally.  I won’t get home in time to figure it all out and deliver today, but Elder Jacob will see what he can do back at the office in the meantime.

Wednesday, Dec 9^th begins with a weekly mission video conference exercise session we fondly call workout Wednesday.  Pres Bell is an athlete and a bit of a health nut (with a sweet tooth), and so he personally leads us through some high intensity interval training for about 30 minutes every Wednesday morning at 6:30 am.  But what is remarkable this time, is that Sis Hatfield has mustered her courage to join us.  I’ve been doing it since the beginning, but Sis Hatfield has shied away, sticking to her stationary biking and running.  Seeing that many of the sisters are joining Workout Wednesday, including Sis Bell (off camera), she has decided to join in.  So we are now sweating together on Wednesdays.  At the office, I must start with first things first.  Elder Jacob has managed to input data and get approval for a local mission rent check, and I go to the office to go through the steps to find the check stock and get it printed.  Then I’m off to deliver it.  Eviction averted.  Actually, the manager knows me pretty well and isn’t all that upset either.  We are consistent payors.  But still, the managers must do their job, and getting a three day pay or vacate notice is never desirable.  I’ve got to figure out what went wrong.

Today started a three day “Mission Tour” by Elder Valenzuela of the Seventy.  It will actually be a series of video conferences.  At Pres Bell’s urging, the missionaries have prepared well to participate in the conferences.  I’m hoping the impact of the virtual meetings will still be meaningful.  Elder Valenzuela is a native Mexican, and a gentle soul.  He brings a great spirit to his messages and the missionaries are responding to his love.  This may be the best example of the Come Follow Me principles of being taught by class members rather than a lecture from the teach that I have ever seen.  I am in awe of these young missionaries’ resilience, testimony, and spirit. 

Last night I got a text that the dryer in Missouri River South isn’t heating again.  This time, I’m not getting it fixed, I’m taking another dryer.  We happen to have a spare.  Could it just be a weak dryer?  We end the day with haircuts with our member stylist Laura Olson.  Honestly, its more of a production than I would probably like to participate in, getting down there, waiting for RaDene’s turn, as well as my own, and getting back turns out to be a bit of an excursion.  But, we have found a Japanese restaurant across the street that makes the best ramen soup ever.  Sis Hatfield gets the smoked chicken, and I get the pork belly.  Oh, so good.  We take it home after haircuts for a small feast.

Thursday, Dec 10^th started off leisurely enough, but we weren’t far into our morning routine before Sis Hatfield squealed.  Last night we had completely lost track of the flights this morning to Africa of three of our elders.  And we were not ready.  We hadn’t checked them into their flights, purchased checked baggage allowances, or printed itineraries and boarding cards.  RaDene raced to the office, unshowered, to do the work.  I cleaned up and got dressed properly and raced the Assistants to the President to the airport.  At this point, we were unsure if all was in order and it didn’t seem prudent to leave it to the young missionaries to be able to fill whatever gaps there might be.  I had credit cards.  It turned out that Sis Hatfield had gotten the checkin squared away for departure so I could chat with the ticket agent about who we were, and see the missionaries through security.  Back at the office, Sis Hatfield still looked harried, so I convinced her to go home and properly get ready for the day.  I would stay and answer phones and collect mail.  Whew.

The mission tour continued this morning with a 1.5 hour general session.  Elder and Sis Valenzuela taught the Parable of the Stick.  You can’t pick up one end of the stick without picking up the other end too.  They likened this to missionary finding and teaching.  Finding is teaching, and teaching is finding.  At least it should be.  I was impressed by the simplicity and truthfulness of the message.  Bold, courageous invitations without messages that prick the heart don’t work.  And there is no better time to ask who else can benefit from the message then when the Spirit has been touching a soul. 

Just as I thought we would go home for an on time dinner, I got a call from the elders in Edwardsville, Illinois, about 45 minutes north and east of St Louis.  They had locked themselves out of their apartment.  They were hesitant to ask, but were out of options, so they called me.  Earlier that afternoon the elders had stepped outside to pick up some food left by members without realizing that their door handle was in the locked position, so when it closed behind them, they were stuck outside without house keys, car keys, or even a cell phone.  They walked about 3.5 miles by my reckoning to a member’s home.  They didn’t have any phone numbers memorized, but fortunately the member knew that the number of the elders quorum president, who knew the number of the zone leaders, who knew my number.  I paused for just a minute about whether I should try the complex manager or a locksmith, but quickly concluded that those options would be expensive, and ultimately no faster than me hurrying out the door to Glen Carbon, IL where the member lived.  I’m glad that the collected wisdom is for the mission office to have duplicates of missionary apartment keys.

Friday, December 11^th began early.  Our granddaughter Kennedy was participating in the pre-school Christmas program being performed at the beginning of the day, and it was being shared through video conference.  Like good grandparents, we sat intently in front of our TV, connected to our computer, and recorded our TV screen when Kennedy spoke her line, ‘”A” is for the angel on top of the tree,’ and stole the show with her spontaneous dancing during the Jingle Bells choral number.  This effort to share is another bright spot in the pandemic.  A year ago, no one would have even considered broadcasting a preschool program for people at home to see.  Lest we have too bright a view of the benefits of the pandemic, that afternoon we had to postpone some needed work at some sisters’ apartment because of a quarantine.

Saturday, December 12^th was an opportunity for us to share with Rachel and Luke Shafer, a young couple in our Pagedale Branch.  They had recently welcomed a first baby into their family.  Sis Hatfield has made a beautiful baby quilt, an extraordinary gift of time and art, sewn into a practical bundle of warmth.  My gift was much more modest:  a loaf of homemade sour dough bread to go with a staple comfort dish in our family of chicken and broccoli over rice.  On one of my runs to the office today a dining set on the curb of the road caught my eye.  The taped on sign said one word, “free.”  I have been short of kitchen tables and chairs for missionary apartments all summer long, and so I’m always on the lookout.  I did a quick U-turn, parked, and jumped out to verify that the furniture would work.  It was probably more than 30 years old, but nice maple workmanship, with very light use.  I was definitely interested.  I went to the door and knocked several times, but no answer.  Peering in the front window, it looked dark.  I wasn’t about to stand on pretense, so I strode back out to the curb to claim the prize, loading the large table and six chairs into the back of my truck, complete with extra table leaves and one of those old fashioned felt and leather table covers that we would never use.  I’ve learned that it is much more satisfying and helpful to the donor if we take all that is offered and later discretely get rid of any part we can’t use.  I’m sure they will be blessed for supporting the Work, without ever knowing why.  After delivering the baby quilt and dinner to the Shafers, Sis Hatfield dug back into the mission newsletter, the Harvester, with me helping just a bit by editing missionary testimonies that were way over the size limit, while simultaneously catching the BYU v. Utah basketball game.  It will be a late series of nights for days to come until this big, recurring project is finished.

29 Nov – 5 Dec 2020 One Touch

Sunday, November 29^th was somewhat startling because for the second week in a row, we did not see Annie Stewart.  She was home from the hospital this week, but too ill and uncomfortable for a personal visit.  We have not gone two weeks without seeing Annie since the COVID “stay at home” orders were lifted this summer. 

Monday, the 30^th included an afternoon of taking three broken dryers to Mike the repairman.  It seems that after two weeks of not seeing Mike, the appliance demons were taking vengeance.  We almost overwhelmed his little strip mall storefront shop with our deliveries.  Back at the office, we pack the carts full of packages, pick up Sis Hatfield, and head out to set up for Mission Leadership Conference tomorrow, since me and the housing assistants won’t be around in the morning to help get the physical set up prepared like we usually would.  On the way, we realize we are hungry, so stop for gyros at the local Mediterranean restaurant.  We can’t eat in under country restrictions, and knowing this will be messy, we end up at our apartment to eat.  The gyros are very tasty.  And we all conclude that the French fries should be named world fries—they are so good that everyone in the world should have them.  Then we finish the evening at the St Louis stake center in Chesterfield helping get ready for tomorrow’s MLC.

Tuesday, December 1^st has a fairly early start.  This is moving day in Rantoul, Illinois, more than a three hour drive north and east of St Louis.  I’ve arranged to meet the manager to finalize the lease, and I want to get there before lunch when we might lose management’s attention for a while.  I negotiate and accept a $200 charge for the drywall damage we didn’t cause, but which undoubtedly became much worse because we failed to report water leaks, probably for years, along the east wall and upstairs ceilings of the apartment.  After finishing the lease signing, turning over a rent check, and getting keys, I offer to take the missionaries to lunch before we dive into the move.  Breakfast was a long time ago and I will need these young elders to be energetic for the next few hours.  So I follow Sis Hatfield’s counsel to feed them.  Asking where to go, the Rantoul elders suggest the local taco stand, which sounds good to me.  It is in a part of town that time has long passed by, and the taco shop occupies an old, retrofitted bank.  The drive up teller window now is a drive up taco window.  The yard sign advertises tacos for 99 cents.  I was dubious when I saw the sign, but well satisfied with 4 of these tacos.  A bargain in Rantoul.  I helped start the move, but quickly turned the moving over to the elders and jumped into the bathroom with my gloves and Comet.  Although the bathroom was in terrible shape, and a prime driver for the need to relocate, I am a little disappointed to find out that the bathroom, sans the paint and drywall issues, would have been in much more livable condition if the missionaries would just have taken some care of it.  The shower rug was adhered to the linoleum floor for not having been moved or cleaned for who knows how long.  The tub and shower was pink with blooming mold, and rust streaks flowed from everything iron.  But with cleaning powder, ammonia, and elbow grease, it looked much better.  We gave the rest of the apartment the same treatment, scrubbing the oven, fridge, baseboards, and floors.  I was reminded how inexperienced these young men are when I found one elder trying to clean a fridge shelf with Shout, a laundry stain remover.  I explained the difference between Shout and 409 and set him back to work.  At least we would have the satisfaction that we had turned back to the management a clean unit.  And hopefully, the missionaries got a better idea of what my expectations are for apartment cleanliness and maintenance.  We took a trip to the Rantoul church to fill its dumpster with unneeded clutter from the old apartment and went by Walmart for some missing necessities, like a new shower rug, and we started our journey back home.  

We stopped in Mattoon, IL for a hamburger at Burger King—no not that Burger King.  It is a single restaurant that has been around for at least 50 years, going by Burger King name all that time.  In fact, a legal dispute established that although that Burger King had registered trademark right to the Burger King moniker all over the nation, it could not, and did not have rights in Mattoon, Illinois because of the the precedent use by this old hamburger stand with recognized common law rights.  And most importantly, its burgers were fantastic—fit for the name, I’d say.  The missionaries were home by 10 pm.  It could have been (and has been) worse.

Wednesday, December 2^nd.  This morning I was awakened to some hysteria.  It is a regular occurrence to hear RaDene talking to Malory and Kennedy on the ride from their home in Alabama to work and day care.  But today Malory’s voice is loud and high.  And Sis Hatfield’s is getting louder and higher too.  I finally discern that Malory thinks she is expecting a baby.  This would be a super big surprise because Ben, her 2^nd, is just over a year old.  And I gather that Malory is concerned about the viability of the pregnancy because of family planning that has been going on.  It is at once exciting and a little scary—cause for a little hysteria, I suppose. 

Sis Bell and Sis Hatfield have been planning and preparing for the Sisters Conference today for weeks, and it has paid off.  My role is mostly in the kitchen warming soup, cutting homemade bread, and chopping salad.  But out there, the mission presidency wives, Sister Hatfield, and others are giving beautiful talks and testimonies.  There are special musical numbers by some very talented young ladies.  And the cultural hall is living up to its name today:  it is brimming with small Christmas trees and ribbons, colorful balls, twine, and glue guns.  The sisters decorated trees for their own companionships and for every other companionship in the mission—about 120 in total.  Sis Bell and Sis Hatfield have shopped on line and all over town to pull materials together at the very best price possible.  It has been amazingly frugal really, considering how nice the tables and decorations look.  Lunch, were my efforts were focused, was almost a distraction.  We could hardly pry the sisters out of conversations with each other to get in the serving line to eat.  We donned gloves, masks, and aprons to reduce any germ transmission.  Tables were limited to 3 companionships, and in the chapel, they sat distanced.  We were under the county ceiling of attendees in this large building, but still, we fretted before, during, and after, praying that we had not created a COVID spreading event.  While it will be a while before we know whether we have spread any illness, we know for certain that the sisters hearts have been fortified in a way they have missed for many, many months.  Most of this day I felt quite out of place, being the sole male consistently present, but I was gratified to see the strength of the sisterhood.

Later that night, back at the office, I took on the task of helping the elders in Highland, Missouri get WIFI installed and working in their apartment.  These days, connectivity is an absolute necessity to missionary work.  Elder Reeder, on of our favorites, and Elder Warner, who is known as Elder Hatfield, Jr, because of our similar looks, have almost no cell coverage at their apartment, and no car to get to the church building, which is the backup plan for many missionaries so that they can use WIFI.  Sis Hatfield has tried to get assistance from AT&T and mission support in Salt Lake City.  They have said they can help “increase the signal strength,” or something like that, which makes no sense to me, but she has sent several requests over that last 2-3 months with no progress.  Being quarantined for COVID was the straw that broke the camel’s back, and a bit off the reservation, on Monday I called and signed the elders up for private WIFI at their apartment. For continuity’s sake, I designated three senior missionaries as authorized users.  Today, the equipment arrived at their apartment, so I got on a call with the elders to walk through installation of the equipment and initialize the signal.  But despite my and the elders’ best efforts, we could not make it work.  Finally, I called the provider for help, which is awkward because the missionaries aren’t authorized users, and I’m not at the missionary apartment.  It feels a bit like a NASA launch, with astronauts in the rocket, launch control, and mission control all trying to have a successful liftoff.  We go through two levels of service technician and we are finally advised that our router must be faulty.  What’s the chances of that?  The technician says that the store where the router can be exchanged closes in 20 minutes, but if I or another designated user can hurry, we can make the exchange before closing.  Well, that seems altogether unlikely.  I’m in St Louis, not Columbia.  And Elder Reeder and Elder Warner are in quarantine and can’t leave their apartment.  Thinking fast, we designate the local district leader as an authorized user.  He races to the store and arrives at 6:57, and gets a replacement router just as the doors are locked.  He goes back to Highlands and hands off the equipment, and a few minutes later, Elder Reeder calls to say that we have liftoff.  Sis Hatfield and I cheer and high five.  There aren’t many hoops we won’t jump through for these young missionaries.

Later, I go pick up Elder Howard and Elder Raynor from their Pagedale apartment and go to the Garners’ apartment.  On our drive back from Rantoul yesterday, Sis Sarah Garner texted me and asked if we could give her husband Colby a blessing of comfort and counsel.  He is a first year law student at Washington University, and so we have bonded, having the legal profession, or the hopes for one, in common.  We get zucchini bread for our efforts.  It was delicious.  While I’m away, Sis Hatfield has joined her cousins’ monthly zoom call.  I must admit, it is entertaining to listen to them talk about family news, health, politics, and unavoidably, COVID.  They have some divergent opinions, but admirably navigate each call with friendship and love.

Thursday December 3^rd is another long trip, this time to the Columbia zone.  I haven’t been out there for 6 or 8 weeks, and I have a pretty long list of housing needs and maintenance items to address.  I haven’t seen Elder Tua’vao, a zone leader out here, for some weeks because of COVID diagnosis and quarantine.  While in the area, I can’t resist tossing a pebble at his and Elder Nielsen’s second floor window.  When they finally open the window, we have a warm chat.  I enjoy raising spirits of the missionaries at every opportunity.  We stopped at a sisters’ apartment to exchange a vacuum that wasn’t working for one of our spares.  It didn’t take much inspection to see the problem.  First, the dirt container was completely filled.  More importantly, the beater bar was so tangled with long hair as to be immovable.  I’m going to need to do some first aid on that machine even before I take it to the repair shop for expert review.  Before the day is over, I have the opportunity to meet two of our brand new missionaries who arrived earlier this week in a mid-transfer arrival.  Since we didn’t have regular transfer orientation with them, I personally delivered their blue books, the mission policies and procedure notebook given to all new missionaries, and their sleeping pillows, a sort of arrival gift from the mission.  I couldn’t help but notice how they seemed to stand behind their trainers as if they were newborn calves unfamiliar with this stranger.  It is amazing to see the missionaries grow, strengthen, and take courage with time.

Friday, December 4^th.  This is a bonus day, in my mind.  We have one last missionary that needs to be endowed at the temple, after having come to the field without the opportunity at home.  A couple of days ago, his mother unexpectedly had an emergency appendectomy, and so her plans to come to St Louis to attend the ordinance didn’t work anymore.  Elder McKenna would be accompanied by his father and missionary companion, Pres and Sis Bell, the four other senior missionary office staff members, and now me.  Sis Hatfield graciously held down the mission office and let me attend, she having gone to two missionary endowments this fall already.  I felt torn, knowing that my blessing was borne of Sis McKenna’s illness.  But I was very happy to experience the peace of the temple.  And I am sure it is one of the cleanest buildings in St Louis.  We were the only group in the temple, along with the officiators, a member of the temple presidency and his wife, and a very few other staff persons.  Doors and curtains were removed or propped open everywhere, except on in the bathrooms, to eliminate touch points.  Protocols were enforced with love, and Mr. Clean seemed to be right behind us.  Outside, I heard that Brother McKenna would surprise us with something at staff meeting later that afternoon.  I assumed he had a treat for us.  I was right, but entirely surprised.

The day was full.  We got back to the office from the temple just about in time for new missionary training.  This round of training would be done over the internet with a large group, somewhere near 25 new missionaries, their companions, and mission leadership.  Sis Hatfield delivered wonderful instruction for her 10 allotted minutes on technology use and safety for missionaries and their work.  Sis Hatfield is so sincere and personable that the young missionaries can’t help but be attentive to her dispensation of wisdom.  Almost immediately after, we started our office staff meeting.  Pres Bell was scheduled to give the spiritual thought for the meeting, and had arranged for Bro MeKenna to come visit with us.  He pulled a wooden box out of his backpack, which I had noticed had only been put down in his temple locker but not otherwise.  He opened the handsome box and pulled out a first edition Book of Mormon.  Of the 5,000 first edition printings, only 500 or so are known.  Sis McKenna’s family has a very interesting story on how they obtained the book after doing a good turn for a book collector in southern California.  When the non-Mormon collector asked what he could do in return, Sis McKenna’s father said, mostly in jest, I suppose, that if he ever came across a first edition Book of Mormon, that he should help them purchase it.  Eventually the collector did come across one on a trip to Ohio, and remembered the request and helped the family in California secure it.  At our staff meeting, Bro McKenna delivered an animated presentation on the book, entitled “One Touch.”  The presentation is most often given at Especially for Youth conferences where by family wishes, the young people are permitted to have one touch of the cover of the book.  Here, we passed it around the room and held it in our hands.  Now that was a treat, thinking about the sacrifices of so many to bring the book to the world.  We held Martin Harris’ farm in our hands, to say nothing of the sacrifice of the Smith family. 

After that, the meeting went to the business of the possibility of the move of our office to another section of the building.  The owner and the church are pretty much in agreement, and its up to Pres Bell and the staff to decide if we would like to move or not.  The question is not easy, loaded with pros and cons each way, with a certain amount of drama and strong feelings.  Then we started planning for Christmas zone conferences.  We are realizing that we will need to host 250+ missionaries over three days, feeding them a Christmas worthy meal, along with the instruction and merry making.  This will challenge or time, energy, budget, and health precautions, made all the more challenging by the Bell daughter’s wedding the week before. 

22-28 Nov 2020 COVID Too Close For Comfort

On Sunday, November 22, we arose a little slowly.  Illinois has imposed restrictions that effectively cancel church services across the river, and Missouri restrictions have tightened back up too, to 25 percent of building capacity.  We have hovered around that number of attendees in our small Pagedale Branch since COVID started, but a couple of months ago we felt quite comfortable as restrictions were eased.  Now, we don’t.  We even said out loud this morning that maybe we should just stay away today, because after all, the mission now has two sets of young elders in the branch, and we don’t want to infringe on the members’ opportunity to attend.  But, we had some groceries to give to Annie Stewart, who lives near the church, so we decided we would go make an appearance at the branch, judge the size of the congregation, and then be where we needed to be to see Annie.  But all of this handwringing made us a bit late getting there.  RaDene forgot her phone as we hurried out.  As we walked in Sis Hatfield looked at the organist, manned by young executive secretary, and bolted for the front of the chapel.  She had agreed to substitute at the organ for our regular organist who was away for the next two Sundays.  Sis Hatfield had completely forgotten.  Unable to persuade the executive secretary to continue, she asked what the hymns were, sat down at the organ, and started to play.  But she was not prepared.  I thought she was doing great, but she didn’t feel that way.  She stopped for the beginning of the meeting, and thinking fast, motioned me to come up on the stand.  She took my phone, since she forgot hers, and found the church hymn app, and when the opening song was announced, went to the podium and pushed the play button, holding the phone to the microphone.  So far, so good.  Now she had a few minutes to figure out how the auto play feature of the organ worked.  She couldn’t find the selected sacrament hymn, so found an alternative, and ask Pres Fingel to reannounce the hymn.  Progress.  For the closing hymn, she found the announced song, and started the auto play on que.  She did it.  The good news was that Sis Hatfield had not stressed for one second this past week worrying about church hymns, she saved it all for the meeting itself.  She is so resourceful.

After church we went to Annie’s house.  We had taken the initiative to call her on Saturday to learn what she might need in order to avoid a repeat of shopping for her this Sunday.  Yesterday, Jordan, her care giving great grandson, had cut the call short when the paramedics unexpectedly came to their door.  When we went to their house today, we learned that Annie had been hospitalized.  In a call with a neighbor yesterday, the neighbor concluded that Annie needed help, and called 911.  Jordan was emotional about it all, recalling when his grandmother had been hospitalized in May and never made it home again, succumbing to COVID.  He feared for Annie.  We encouraged him as best we could from the front porch, suggesting that he take care of himself today while Annie was in the hospital.  We helped Jordan call the hospital and then Annie’s doctor.  The doctor sounded optimistic about her condition, and although gave no promises, he said they would evaluate her continued stay on a day to day basis.  Jordan is humbled, and expressed gratitude for our interest and support.  He is now accepting of our belief that Heavenly Father knows him and his great grandmother.   

Monday, November 23^rd was partly an extension of last week’s transfers.  The three sisters in Belleville, Illinois are expecting another sister to complete the two companionships tomorrow.  The delayed move was caused by a COVID quarantine.  Happily, the sisters in Highland had offered their extra bed and desk for the project, something I had forgotten was in Highland.  I’m starting to wonder how many things I have lost track of around the mission.  I’ve organized placement of approximately 100 sets of missionary furniture since June.  Back at the office, I signed the Decatur elders apartment lease renewal.  New leases are challenging.  Renewals usually are not, because the church has earned its reputation as a reliable tenant.  But this Decatur renewal lease goes into the very difficult category.  We’ve worked on the lease for two months, trying to produce the personal information the manager has demanded.  Sis Hatfield has been with Sis Bell at the mission home most of the afternoon planning for the sister missionary conference scheduled for December 2^nd.  Sis Bell and Sis Hatfield have already purchased “table top” trees and decorating supplies.  Now they are making prototypes and sorting supplies.  They expect to make about 120 trees, coming out to about a tree and a half per sister.  They also need to organize scissors, glue guns, and who knows what else.  That will be an effort.  I’m trying to make new file labels, key labels, apartment summaries, and so many other things that depend on area names now confused by ward renaming and realignments in the Springfield stake.  Ugh.  Before heading for home, I sort mail.  There is a lot of deliveries coming these days.  Going out of town tomorrow, I need to take what I can to the missionaries in the outlying areas.

Tuesday, November 24^th was a trip north.  The manager of the Rantoul townhouse complex wanted to inspect our unit in connection with a possible transfer to a place not so run down.  With all the water damage, I could not afford to miss the inspection and let the manager draw the conclusion that we should be blamed for the substantial water damage to paint and wallboard.  I have some concern about it though, because the missionaries have been either so accepting of the poor conditions or oblivious to them, we haven’t reported the problems as soon as we might have.  As we walk the property, I point out the problems, carefully making the case as to why I believe the mission should not be responsible.  I think I have been effective, and in the end I am willing to accept some responsibility, but the inspector, while friendly and nonaccusatory, is non committal.  We shall see how this goes.  The manager says three units are now available, and I can see them as soon as tomorrow.  I think I will, because this project is not going to solve itself.  For now, we are off to the southwest to Decatur to pick up some medical papers that the mission nurse needs from an elder there.  The missionaries won’t be there, and we have made arrangements to let ourselves in.  While at the apartment I notice something strange.  One of the bedrooms and the bathroom have their doors removed.  After some searching, I find the doors in another part of the apartment.  I will be interested to hear the explanation. 

In the all’s well that ends well category, when we are about 20 minutes from arriving in Decatur, Elder Buck, the new housing assistant, and new to the mission truck, hears a bell that the truck is low on fuel.  Elder Smith and I assume we are down to 1/8^th a tank, when we usually hear the bell.  No, Elder Buck says, the truck says we have 3 miles to empty.  I tell Elder Buck to slow down to improve mileage.  A quick search says we are 6 miles from the nearest gas.  Just about the time we are convinced we are in trouble, we see a blue highway sign that says this exit to gas.  There doesn’t look like much out there, but we don’t have much to lose because we aren’t going to make it to Google’s suggestion.  We take the off ramp and head down the road.  After a few minutes, and when we figure we have just made it harder for a rescue party to find us, we round a corner into a small village, and sure enough, there is a station.  We put 32 gallons into a 30 gallon tank.

For Wednesday, November 25^th I have arranged to see three townhouses in Rantoul, where the mission had the greatest need for an alternative apartment.  I’ll not take the housing assistants on this trip, so it will be 7 hours of driving on my own.  Two of them have the old, foot square industrial tiles throughout.  One has old very short piled carpet.  None of them are beautiful, but all are in better shape than the dilapidated townhouse the missionaries are living in.  I get pricing on all, and conclude the carpeted unit would be my choice.  The manager will pull together an offer and email it to me later this week.  I made it clear that my interest in a new lease is conditional on whether we can come to agreement on the damage in the townhouse we will leave.  On the way home I stop in Champaign and see the zone leaders, delivering more mail.  They are cheerfully working under difficult conditions.  I admire them.  After leaving at 8:30 this morning, I make it back to the office by 6 p.m., where Sis Hatfield is still hard at work. 

Thursday, November 26^th is Thanksgiving.  We got our grown kids on a video call together and talked about our plans for the day and shared cooking ideas.  Most of us participate in the call from our kitchens while we prepare our feasts in five different places.  Malory is in Alabama cooking for her in-laws, Spencer has driven his family to Mesa to see Elisabeth’s family, Mitchell and Patric are in Seattle cooking a full Thanksgiving meal for two, and Ancsi and Gareth are cooking for themselves and Gareth’s sister.  We were a bit shocked to see Ancsi in a cross-fit competition last weekend at her gym where the sponsors had taken no thought as to COVID precautions.  In my estimation, the gym event was probably illegal, involving contestants and many fans shoulder to shoulder around the gym with no attempt to socially distance or wear masks.  RaDene and I had called Ancsi later and we agreed that the exposure was too great to risk attending Thanksgiving with the Jensens as planned.  It was very disappointing to Ancsi to realize the risks to old persons and healthcare workers in the Jensen family if she and Gareth celebrated with them.  And the timing is such that testing won’t help.  COVID is hard, but we must show respect for others even if we aren’t fearful of our own health. 

To share with a nearby missionary district of 9, Sis Hatfield and I are cooking our traditional sweet potato and apple dish, which we have made since the early years of our marriage, and my Dad’s sausage and pecan stuffing.  Naturally, RaDene had some tasteful table decorations and provided the mother’s touch that makes what is usually a family celebration feel right.  The food was surprisingly good, even if mostly made by novices.  Elder Dugan cooked a turkey in a mild jalapeno basting sauce that was delicious.  I must say, it was a little freeing to send everyone home with their leftovers.  Usually we are dealing with food for hours after the meal is over.

Friday, November 27^th was notable for the guests at our mission office staff meeting.  Pres Bell’s father and mother came to St Louis to visit for Thanksgiving.  Today, they we had the chance to meet them.  What a delight.  They exude the love and spirit that Pres Bell shares around the mission every day.  You feel like you are with best friends from the first minute you are with them.  They are full of uplifting stories and quick to find common ground.  The acorn doesn’t fall too far from the tree. 

Saturday, November 28^th is our preparation day, but there are a few things that need some attention if we are going avoid frenzy next week.  Fortunately, the housing assistants are trustworthy and by now know enough to go out and retrieve, not one, not two, but three dryers that have gone on the fritz in the past few days.  One is almost 3 hours away in Tuscola, Illinois.  The other two are in the greater St Louis area, a bit south in Fenton, and west in O’Fallon, Missouri.   Sis Hatfield and I have some special gifts to wrap and ship to family.  This is an especially difficult time to be away from home.  Christmas involves so many traditions that 

15-21 Nov 2020 Briefly Arrested

On Sunday, November 15^th I was the proudest Papa ever.  I’m not quite sure how it happened, because we hadn’t done any advance planning, but somehow Sis Hatfield pulled together a primary lesson for the grandkids.  So we began the day with a video meeting with Abbi and Ezra and the subject was the Jaredites.  To start, Sis Hatfield shared a video of the story of the Bro of Jared.  The presentation was good enough, but I thought it would be impossible for them to answer Nana ‘Dene’s question after the grandkids watched it:  “What was the Bro of Jared’s problem?” she asked.  Abbi scrunched up her nose for a second and then replied, “too dark.”  I was amazed that she picked that out that improbable problem in all that was going on in the story.  I’ll claim her as my posterity. 

 In sacrament meeting, it was announced the St Louis County health orders were imposing 25 percent occupancy limits on meetings again.  A step backwards, for sure.  After church we went to the grocery store twice to pick up some saltines, soup, V-8 juice, lemons, ginger root, and Theraflu for Annie Stewart, who continues to be very ill with COVID.  It is a strange thing to minister from the front porch steps, but it’s the best we can do.  The situation has opened her great-grandson Jordan to talk with us, who has been somewhat standoffish.  Apparently they don’t get too much support and we keep showing up.  Afterwards, we head to the mission office where Sis Hatfield is horrified to find that her Newsletter has not saved properly and she has lots to do to finish it.  That, and she needs to print 25 boarding passes for departing missionaries.  That done, we go to the mission home to say goodbye to some young missionaries that we love very much.  About 10 pm that night, a sister missionary notices that her boarding card doesn’t match her itinerary.  Inconveniently, her flight time is now 5:30 am, hours before anyone is planning to head for the airport.  Of course, that means a call to Sis Hatfield.  Sis Hatfield looks things up, and sure enough, the flight has changed without our noticing it and without a message to anyone.  Sis Hatfield in turn calls the emergency number at church travel, who confirms that everyone else traveling tomorrow is fine, it is just this one sister that was changed by the airlines without advising anyone.  Church travel cheerily found a more reasonable alternative flight and we are set, except Sis Hatfield needs to call the family and let them know that timing has changed.  Explaining the situation to the missionary’s dad, he asked drily, “can’t you just keep her a little longer?”  We all need such a sense of humor in these times.

Monday, November 16^th brought a little relief for the problematic lease renewal in Decatur.  The President has assigned two different missionaries into the apartment, with two departing, including the one that hasn’t been able to satisfy the manager’s silly Social Security card requirement.  I alerted the manager of the changes and she seemed a little relieved too.  I got on the phone with the new missionaries and told them exactly what they would need when they meet the manager on Wednesday.  Hopefully, this will go better.  We have spent much too much time on a simple lease renewal trying to satisfy unhelpful residency qualification requirements.  The housing assistants and I went to Weldon Spring and to Rockwood 2^nd and set up third beds for the sisters arriving on Wednesday. We got that bulky piano out of Rockwood just in time.  We did the same thing in Pagedale in the new Hawthorne School apartment.  The bedroom was wall to wall bed.  The elders were good sports, but I hope this doesn’t need to last too long.  Back at the office, Sis Hatfield and I measured the furniture that might be taken into the space across the hall if it works out that the mission office moves.

Tuesday, November 17^th included the strange chore of taking boxes of white shirts to the local thrift store.  The shirts were no longer in usable condition for the St Louis temple clothing rental.  After giving away what we could to the missionaries, we had three boxes of shirts with neck size 20 or larger.  St Vincent DePaul Charities recognizes our mission truck.  We are scheduled to receive incoming missionaries today in two big waves and several other small ones, coming from as far away as Honolulu.  While waiting for the second group of new missionaries to arrive, Sis Hatfield has the brilliant idea of training the first group on phone set up, which has just changed, and dramatically, and technology use for proselyting.  The Traveling Technology Trainers, Elders Scheurman and McNeil, join her for the effort.  It took much more time than we thought, and because set up is brand new procedures, this would have been very difficult to do after they were dispersed around the mission.  When the second group of new missionaries came, we socially distanced them at tables around the cultural hall and fed them Sis Bell’s new favorite group meal:  Costco lasagna.  With some debate and concern, we had moved the Frontenac sisters out of their apartment for the night set up to house sister missionaries, and housed incoming elders there instead.  Hopefully the elders will stay in the dormitory front room and stay out of the sisters’ bedroom.  We are trying hard to keep the County rule of not having more than 10 people in a gathering.  Because we have so many elders, we have almost 10 at three different places, to the significant inconvenience of everyone.  Finally, we think we are prepared for transfers in the morning, but no, at 10:45 pm, the President calls to say that COVID quarantines have been ordered by the mission nurse at several locations, so planned movements will need to be adjusted on the fly tomorrow.  Two missionaries didn’t even come today, because they either have or are being tested for COVID.  I offer some suggestions, but we are all too tired to think clearly.  It’s pretty obvious transfers tomorrow will be difficult.

Wednesday, November 18^th is set to be the second largest movement in the history of the mission, with 50+ missionaries having departed or arrived, and more than 125 missionaries from around the mission involved in the transfer.  That’s approximately one half of the mission.  I hope the masks are effective—social distancing will be nearly impossible with that number of people trying to maneuver through the transfer stations, move luggage, change companions, and organize car rides all over the mission.  As it happened, two of the incoming new missionaries have not been permitted to travel because they have or have been exposed to COVID.  And districts in both the Columbia Zone and the Springfield Zone have been quarantined, to are making adjustments on the morning of transfers in the parking lot while missionaries are on their way to the transfer location.  The office staff has about 40 minutes of training to give to the new missionaries.  Pres Bell introduces us before he turns it over and goes into another room to “train the trainers.”  He begins by assuring the new missionaries that they are in the right place, doing the right thing.  He frequently shows his name badge bearing the name of Jesus Christ.  This time, he pulled on lapel to show his badge, and to his embarrassment, it was not there.  We all had a good laugh.  For me, the transfer also was a farewell, because Elder Kyle Merrill is being transferred away from the housing assistant assignment to go to proselyte in Waterloo, Illinois.  Elder Merrill has been a delight.  He has strong physical organization skills and mechanical aptitudes that have been very helpful.  His personality is bright, cheerful, and patient.  I will miss him a lot.  President Bell has assigned Elder Adam Buck to join the housing team.  I know from past experiences that we will get along very well. 

As we work through the transfer of missionaries, first one, then another brand new missionaries cannot find their carry on bags that they had with them last night.  They are sure they brought them to transfers, but they are no where to be found.  We search the church top to bottom, look in the vans they came in, and everywhere else we can think of, but no luck.  We tell them to be patient, the bags will show up.  We are being a bit optimistic about that, because by now I am not so sure.  Finally, the mystery is solved.  They had put their bags in the white Chevrolet Equinox they thought they were leaving in, but alas, it was the wrong car.  Since we have about 20 white Chevrolet Equinoxes in the mission, and most of them have been in the parking lot today, it is no wonder there wasn’t more confusion on whose care was whose.  Finally, we have everyone on the road, and I take Elder Smith and Elder Buck to Five Guys for a burger, a bit of a transfer tradition by now.  Then we go to the office for apartment keys, head to the storage unit for furniture, and head for Alton to set up on of the emergency TRIs made necessary by a quarantine.  Then we are off to Tuscola, a good two hours north and east, to set up another TRI for the same reason.  We are about half way there when I get a call from Pres Bell saying that we need one more emergency TRI, this time in Jacksonville, about an hour and a half west of Tuscola.  The problem is, we are a long way from the storage unit by now.  But for some reason, when we were at the storage unit I had the feeling to bring an extra bed, desk, and chair set, which I didn’t think too much about, but which I would never ordinarily do.  When we get the call from the President, I know exactly why.  After Tuscola, we steer west with exactly what we need to fill the bill.  Small miracle.  The long loop around Illinois is a severe baptism for poor Elder Buck.  We don’t get him home until 11:45 pm on his first afternoon as a housing assistant. 

Thursday, December 19^th starts with a morning in the office, working on leases.  I average two new leases each week, so there is a lot of contract work to keep up with.  Church audits require paper copies of leases, so I have a triple entry data procedure—paper files, church electronic data files, and non-church electronic data that I need but that is not captured in the church programs.  It’s a lot of work.  More, the Springfield Stake realigned boundaries and changed names in two wards this last weekend.  The boundary changes are a headache for Sis Hatfield because she needs to draw them electronically and assign missionaries to the teaching areas, together with contact information, investigator information, member contacts, and new area names to match the new ward names.  I have a similar task to change apartment names, that are based on teaching area/ward names.  And of course, this needs to be done in triplicate.  It is all the more challenging because with our high missionary census, we have at least two companionships in each Springfield ward, and to increase the difficulty, missionaries are working out of their assigned areas because of COVID precautions.  During the afternoon, I take down two TRIs, one in Pagedale and one in O’Fallon, Missouri, because of a sudden leadership changes.  Back at the office, Sis Hatfield learns that five missionaries have now received assignments to go back overseas to Africa or South America during December and January.  Not many of our 100 or so transplants, but a start.

On Friday, November 20^th we had a staff meeting, but hurried to be done in time to see President Nelson’s Gratitude message.  It was inspiring.  Sis Hatfield has made some wonderful social media posts and millions of others have followed his counsel and have done the same.  These are points of light in an often dark world, started by a prophet of God.

Saturday, November 21^st started with a walk.  One objective was to decide who we would join for Thanksgiving.  The President has directed that we meet as Districts, groups of about 6-10 missionaries.  In the wrong district, Sis Hatfield and I could easily push the group size beyond the expected limit of 10.  We had narrowed down our options, but one unknown was where the zone leaders and assistants to the President would attend.   So while we started our walk we texted the young missionary leaders to figure out where we would fit.  It turns out we will have dinner with the Frontenac district, including the sisters and technology trainers that we love—a lot.  Our assignment is sweet potatoes and dressing, some of our specialties.  As we crossed I-270 on the Olive Street overpass, we marveled at the investment in urban landscaping.  Sis Hatfield even paused to examine some of the plants.  We also stopped a time or two waiting for “walk” signals.  Five minutes later, we started around the sidewalk off the overpass and onto the frontage road, heading towards a park.  Suddenly, a police car, then another, pulled up and police came across to stop us.  The lead officer asked if we had any idea why they were stopping us.  RaDene said no, but then offered maybe we had jumped the gun on a walk signal?  No, the officer replied.  Had we been asking for money?  We said no, but he pressed the question.  We assured him we had not been panhandling.  We had enough money of our own.  The officer acknowledged that he had not seen it himself, but was responding to “several” citizen calls of panhandlers on the Olive Street overpass, and from the description, he was sure the callers were referring to us.  We finally convinced him we were not guilty.  He told us to be careful on our walk (careful of what, we were not sure, maybe careful not to ask people for money?) and the awkward exchange was over.  As we walked away, we remarked that we were not well dressed.  Maybe we did look like homeless people that morning?  Because of a drizzle, we had put on rain jackets that had unintentionally covered our missionary name tags.  In some ways, I was glad.  I wouldn’t want to have embarrassed the name of the Church with motorists or the police.  On the other hand, with badges, maybe we wouldn’t have looked like vagabonds. 

Later that day, Pres Bell alerted us that the State of Illinois was imposing new COVID mitigation regulations because of the new wave of cases.  We went home and researched the health orders in Illinois and helped Pres Bell provide guidance to the missionaries.  Illinois’ new mandate was limiting religious gatherings to 10 people and prohibiting gatherings among people other than household members except in “essential” activities.  This effectively ends church services in Illinois for the second time this year, and will keep missionaries from finding and teaching except by audio and video means.  Just as things seemed to be getting more flexible, we are clamping down again to remain compliant with the rules.  The missionaries will need to continue to be brave.