Stake Conference in the Bronx

As strange as it sounds, I really like our need to be creative when hosting stake conference in the Bronx. It's just such a New York-type thing.

In theory people can take the Metro North train to the meeting, but realistically, most choose not to. It involves about a 3/4 mile walk up a hill from the train station, and the train schedule is close, but not perfect, for the meeting times.

So instead we pull a "loaves and fishes" with our 22-space parking garage underneath the chapel.

In the early days of living here, they filled the 22 spaces and that was it.

Now, we double-park (or quadruple park, or whatever) to fill every last inch with cars. We had a high councilor several years ago who accepted the assignment and he was a master at it....our own pioneer, if you will. He has been released, and it now takes a quorum army to do what he did by himself. One Elders Quorum took last night, and another took this morning. About 6 to 7 people are guiding cars into the slots (involving major backing up and praying that no cars get dented).

Last night, the neighboring ward's quorum volunteers got 67 cars in. As we are a numbers-driven church, our ward's quorum set a higher goal of 70 cars for today. I asked for the totals when I left to drive home: 73 cars, 1 taxi and 1 motorcycle...a new Stake Conference record!

(In the defense of the other ward, one car that was imbedded deep in the garage had to get out between the leadership and adult session, and they claim that they lost a few car spaces by shuffling them out of there).

After conference, "the last shall be first" and the last two cars truly prevent everyone else from leaving. If you came late, you'd better plan to leave early.

The rest of us just mingle around in a cave of bumper-to-car-door cars waiting for your space to open up to exit. All are out within 15 minutes, and it's just kind of New Yorky to hang out in the garage.

(I've suggested we move to the annual stake picnic to the garage after stake conference....pass around some potato salad, say a blessing, and call it an activity).


As they used to say in a column in the New York Post: "Only in New York, kids, Only in New York!"