The Big Move
March 20, 1990 (Tuesday)
For most of my mission, our apartments used yeontan (연탄) bricks to heat our water. These are bricks of coal — very cheap and effective in providing heat.
Imagine you’re at the beach making a sand castle. Pack in dirt tight into a pail, turn the pail upside down on the ground, and remove the pail to leave a cylinder of sand. And then if you were to poke about twenty cylindrical holes down the middle, that’s what a yeontan looks like, except black like coal.
One cool thing is that when a brick burns down low enough, you can stack another on top of it, and the heat from the bottom brick will ignite the top one, which can save having to use another flame to start it.
Since they produce a small amount of carbon dioxide, they usually burn in well-ventilated rooms in the back exposed to outside air. In our apartment, this furnace heated our water, which in turn activated our floor heating system as well.
Usually, next to the furnace would also be our “Barbie” clothes washing machine — which in every apartment looked like a toy machine, where one side churned the clothes in water back and forth, and the other side spun the clothes mostly dry — though we would still need to hang up the clothes to finish drying all the way.
And as you may guess, there were big downsides to this setup. These yeontan bricks didn’t smell that great as they burned. Some of the smell would get on our drying clothes. And they didn’t always last through the night, so one of us would have to wake up earlier to get the next yeontan burning so we could have hot water for our showers, and the last of us to go would likely get colder water. On top of all this, cleaning the ash was annoying, and you had to make sure not to get burned. Did I mention that these yeontan’s can get very hot?
While these were prevalent in Korea, in the late 1980’s they were quickly transitioning to alternative heating sources such as natural gas water heaters, which brings us to our apartment.
In early 1990, the mission home had announced that all of our apartments were now eligible to upgrade to natural gas heaters. And believe me, this was attractive — no more waking up early to get the yeontan’s going, no more carbon dioxide, no more inconsistent heating throughout the day. Who didn’t want to upgrade to natural gas?
Well, I’ll tell you who. Our district leader, Elder Johnston. He said we were doing just fine with the yeontan’s, that there was no need to bother the mission home to go through all the steps to get it done, and it was all a good experience for us — something we were unlikely to experience again when we returned to America.
But oh man — how we kept bugging him about it! He held the pursestrings for our household, and he made the decisions. It didn’t matter that the districts next to us were making the changes.
That was until a few days ago, when we met for our usual morning house mini-meeting. He said, “I have good news and bad news. Which one would you like to hear first?”
We chose the “good news,” so he said, “We’re getting a gas hot water heater in a few days!”
“No way,” the other three of us said. “Exciting! What’s the bad news?”
“We’re going to have to move out next week into a new apartment.”
“What?” said Riley. “So, we’re moving out right after we get a gas heater?”
“Oh,” explained Elder Johnston, “it was the new renter who insisted that the landlords upgrade the system. And well — we’re getting kicked out. The mission home refused to pay the higher rent they were demanding, and they found us another place just around the corner … you know No Ji-su, right, ward missionary? We’re moving into his complex — a floor above his.”
Elder Benjamin said, “Cool. We have a week to move. We’ll go wherever the Lord wants us to go.”
Elder Riley said, “I don’t know why the Lord wants us kicked out of here. One week? That’s all the notice we get?”
“They’ll come here on the 20th next week to install the gas heater. And Elder Benjamin and Elder Elder? You’re going to have to be fully out of your room on the 21st so they can prepare it. Evidently it needs to be repainted. And then we all leave on the 22nd. So, I guess we start packing!”
And that brings us to today, the 20th. We had just finished our last yontan-heated shower, and now maintenance men were busy in the back room taking out the yontan furnace. Elder Benjamin and I stayed home so we could spend the morning packing more of our stuff. We didn’t want to leave the maintenance men alone with our boxes of stuff lying around in various stages of being packed.
While we were packing, Elder Benjamin said to me, “I had a vision last night — about you and me.”
“Interesting,” I said. “What did you see?”
“BYU. I saw us at a football game, having a blast. All the people around us were wearing blue and white. Lots of cheering and having a good time. You see, Elder Elder, once this mission is over, our future isn’t over. Rather, we’re going to do great things. We’ll meet again at the Lord’s University, and we’re going to drive people crazy. We’ll talk about all our mission experiences, torment the ladies. We’re going to rock!”
“Sounds like fun,” I said. “Football games can be fun. I played in the Cougar Marching Band. Mellophone.”
“I know. You told me. But in this vision, you weren’t in the band. You were in the stands with me. We were eating hot dogs. And laughing it all up.”
“Wow. And what about the girls you mentioned? Did you see them, too?”
“No,” said Elder Benjamin. “Not at the football game, but they’ll be in there somewhere. I only saw you and me having fun.”
“We’ll see,” I said.
March 21, 1990 (Wednesday)
We all got to sleep in — well, kind of. None of us had to get up early to get the yeontans going. We had plenty of hot water for our showers, and no yucky charcoal smell in the back room. It was wonderful! Our showers lasted a tad bit longer that morning.
It didn’t matter so much because all of our appointments were cancelled for the day. Elder Benjamin and I had to evacuate our room completely. Everything had to come off the walls, and even our desks and yo’s had to move. We threw it all in the living room, where we’d be sleeping for the night.
Elders Riley and Johnston would get to sleep in their own room, but tomorrow everything would have to move out. We would do it all today, but the new apartment wasn’t ready yet, and so we had to wait.
Either way, everything had to be packed. Well — except for a big table in the den, the big sofa in the living room, and all the kitchen appliances that all came with the apartment. We had to leave it behind. And so that’s what we did all day — packing and more packing. Though, we did find time to rest in between.
Around midday, I found Elder Benjamin alone in the den, sitting next to the table, while the other elders were packing in their room. He was playing with a … cigarette lighter? Where did he get one of those? And there was a bottle of cologne on the table. He repeatedly lit the fumes so that a flame would burn at the top of the bottle, and then he’d blow it out.
“Whatcha doing?” I asked.
“Watching my cologne burn,” he said.
I let out a little nervous laugh and asked, “So, why you doing it?”
“Isn’t it beautiful?” he said. “It’s the Spirit of God — like a fire is burning.”
“Um, I can see that it’s a fire. Isn’t that a little dangerous, though?”
“It’s okay.” He blew out the flame again. “See? All under control.” And then he lit it again. “As this fire burns, it’s following a complex mathematical algorithm, one so complex that we can’t predict which way the flames move at any given moment. It flickers to the right, and then suddenly to the left. The color changes, too. It’s mostly blue now, but sometimes it’ll burn orange or yellow. It’s like a snowflake. The exact shape of the flame is never the same twice. Always changing.
“Such is the Spirit of God. So much power and so much benefit. We can only control it when we’re being righteous. And never when we’re sinning, because that’s when our access is cut off. But this Spirit can change anyone, latch onto the heart and convert them. Change them into new creatures. Watching this flame is like looking through a window into the power of God, itself.”
I watched for a few minutes with him and he was right, it was indeed fun to watch and admire the flame, but then I said, “Well, that was fun. I think we should get back to packing now.”
Throughout the day, we cleared out our room until there was absolutely nothing left on the floors or walls. As usual, the floor was some kind of linoleum. And likewise, the ceiling and walls were mostly flat and smooth. So, when we were done — wow! Did that room echo! We each took turns in our new echo chamber, making funny noises and jokes.
Shortly after Elder Johnston told our landlord that the room was vacated, a painting crew showed up and went to work. It was quite loud with all the echoing. And during that time, we concentrated on packing the rest of the apartment.
By the end of the day, we had pile of stuff in the other elders’ room and in our living room. We were ready to go.
March 22, 1990 (Thursday)
“Bad news,” said Elder Johnston. “Our new apartment isn’t ready yet. We can’t move in until Sunday.”
“What?” said Elder Riley. “Weren’t we supposed to be out today?”
“Actually, we had until Saturday.”
“Saturday? What are we going to do Saturday night?”
Keep in mind that all of our housing was handled by the mission home office, and not the local district leaders. In this sense, Elder Johnston was only the messenger. However, the mission office was down south in Pusan, and sometimes we had to engage with the landlord face-to-face because we were the ones who were actually here. We just weren’t allowed to make any decisions about housing, unless such decision were expressly delegated to us.
Elder Johnston answered, “We’ll have to sleep in a hotel, so they can do more work, but we can leave all our stuff in the living room, and move it out Sunday morning.”
“Great,” said Elder Benjamin. “We’ll have to cancel all our Sunday appointments. And what about church? Moving on the Sabbath?”
I said, “And what are we going to do today? We’ve already cancelled today’s appointments.”
Elder Johnson laughed. “Well, since you and Elder Benjamin stayed in all day the last two days, it makes sense for Elder Riley and me to hold down the fort today. Make sure the workers don’t mess with our stuff. But I’m sure the two of you will figure out something to do.”
Ugh. One thing Elder Benjamin and I both agreed on was that cold-call proselyting was the worst. That’s why we always filled up our schedule with discussions, pursuing referrals, and other meetings with purpose. However, today was a clean slate.
So, Elder Benjamin and I decided to visit inactive members — see if we could drop in and get them to come back to church. At least that wouldn’t be door-knocking or street-boarding. But as you may have guessed, it was largely a bust. Only one of them opened his door, and he said he had to leave in a few minutes. And yes — we also had a couple of cases of where we knew someone was in there and they weren’t answering the door. Even members of the Church could fake us.
At around 3PM, we were headed to another unsuspecting inactive member when Elder Benjamin suddenly got hit by the Spirit. “See that apartment complex over there?” He pointed to a collection of three building lined up in a row, each with three levels each. “Somebody in there needs to hear our message.”
“In there?” I studied the iron fencing surrounding the complex and a gate with one door that let people enter. “The one with the sign that says ‘no soliciting’?” We had always avoided it because there were always better alternatives for door-knocking.
“Yes. That’s where the Spirit tells me we need to go. The gate’s open, and look: no one is manning the gate. It’s a bluff. Put up a gate and a sign, and scare people away. But nobody’s there.”
“What about Brother Han?” I asked. “Aren’t we on the way to reactivate him?”
“Oh, he doesn’t know we were coming. He won’t miss us. Come up, tongbanja, we must follow the Spirit.”
And sure enough, we walked through the gate and nothing happened. Veering to the left, we went into the first building. Each of the three floors in each building had four apartments — two in the front, and two in the back. That would make 36 apartments in total, and one of them needed to hear our message. But which one? We started with the first floor and worked our way up.
In the first building, no one let us in. Most didn’t answer their doors. Some were nice telling us they were Buddhist — go away. A few of them slammed the door on us.
The same with the second building, except one lady asked, “How did you get in here? Solicitors aren’t allowed in here.”
Elder Benjamin said, “The gate was open, no one’s there.”
“You need to leave here immediately,” she said. And so we moved on to the next apartment across from her.
As we went down the stairs of the second building, someone was waiting for us … wearing a blue uniform. “Hello,” he said. “What is your business here?”
I let Elder Benjamin do all the talking, as this wasn’t my idea. “We’re looking for someone. He needs to hear our message.”
“Message?” said the uniformed guy. “You’re solicitors! Didn’t you see the sign out front? You can’t just come in here and bother the tenants like this. You need to leave, now.”
“But he hasn’t heard our message yet. It’s urgent. We haven’t found him yet.”
“Oh?” said the guy. “What’s his name?”
“Um … we don’t know yet.”
The guy pulled out a walkie talkie from his back pocket and pointed to the gate. “If you don’t leave immediately, I’m going to call for backup. Your choice.”
I believe our feet started moving before our brains had decided. The last thing we needed was the mission home coming to bail us out of Korean jail, or being kicked out of the country. The man followed us as we walked. We went through the gate and he went into his guard booth beside it.
Through an open window, he said to us, “You are forever forbidden to come here again. If I catch you here again I’m calling it in.”
And we left. “That’s too bad,” said Elder Benjamin. “I could have sworn the Spirit told me to go in there.”
“Hmmm,” I said. “Why wouldn’t the Spirit prepare the person to hear us?”
“He must be in that third building. Someone’s searching for the truth.”
“And we have no way to get to him.”
“I think you’re right,” said Elder Benjamin. “This did not go as well as I thought it would.”
“It’s okay. It was a good experience for us on this day where we had nothing else planned. Maybe that’s why the Spirit sent us in there. Testing our faith.”
“Well, that tired me out,” said Elder Benjamin. “I’m not feeling that it’ll be productive to go to Brother Han’s house. What should we do?”
“Ugh, how about we find some creative ways to hand out some Mormon Gyeong’s.”
“Sure. We are a little behind — as usual.”
March 24, 1990 (Saturday)
As far as the move was concerned, nothing at all happened on Friday. We got to go to all our appointments that we had not cancelled ahead of time, and … well … it was just a normal day.
But late Saturday, the landlord needed to get done some further renovations to get it ready for the next guy. As planned, we moved all of our stuff into the living room, and then left to check into a hotel, hoping that our stuff would be okay while we were gone.
And let me tell you, the few times we ever stayed in a hotel on our mission, we missionaries took every opportunity to live it up. It was no use wasting the good money that was paying for our stay.
Part of this included the famous Korean bathhouses, which were always a lot of fun. These had several different tubs for soaking. There was almost always a cold pool, a hot pool, a spiced pool, and so on. And also showers off to the side. One of my favorite activities was to alternate between the cold and hot pools. And when I say cold and hot, I mean ice cold and burning hot. Supposedly, this helped to clear out the pores. Perhaps it did, but it certainly did exhaust me.
This bathhouse also had a relaxation room where we could walk around in robes and relax in hybrid recliner chair/beds. You could watch TV while you relaxed. This night, they had on a Kangshi (ê°•ì‹œ) movie, which featured Chinese hopping vampires that could only be stopped by placing yellow and red Chinese-character laden ribbon charms on their foreheads. We laughed, as it didn’t seem to be very scary.
In the locker room were several Go boards set up to play, and they were always in use. And as I’ve mentioned before, we young foreign visitors were typically not allowed to play, though they would let us play the Chinese Chess (Xiangqi) board, which was also set up. Funny thing was, it looked way more complicated than Go.
After an evening of relaxation, we were able to briefly forget about the move and have a nice relaxing night of sleep.
March 25, 1990 (Sunday)
We picked up No Ji-su on the way back to the apartment to help us move.
When we opened our front door to our old apartment, an angry-looking Korean stood at the entrance — someone we hadn’t met yet. He yelled at us so quickly, it was hard to parse out what he was saying. Something about “why were we still here?” It then became clear that this was the new renter who was trying to move things in. Or … he was wanting to, but our stuff was still in there.
Ji-su commenced yelling back at the guy, also speaking quite fast. From what I gathered, he was talking about how it wasn’t our fault and things had already been arranged. And did I ever mention that it’s normal for Koreans to yell at each other? We four American missionaries stared at each other wondering what we would have done if Ji-su weren’t there helping us.
Elder Johnston went to check our messages and came back. “I have bad news. The zone leaders say we can’t move in till 1PM. Our new apartment is still not ready.”
“What?” said Elder Riley.
Elder Benjamin, “It appears God is testing us.”
Ji-su and the new renter gathered what we were saying and they started yelling at each other again. The new guy wanted to throw our stuff out now. It wasn’t raining outside … move it! But then Ji-su talked him down.
And then the landlord appeared. You know what came next. More yelling.
Among all the excitement, Elder Johnston said to Elder Benjamin and me, “Why don’t you two go ahead and go to church? You can take care of the investigators who show up, and catch us up on any developments. We’ll hold down the fort here. It’s not like you can do anything here. So, get out of here.”
“Okay,” we said, and then we left. As we shut the door behind us, they were still yelling inside.
“Wow,” I said. “Isn’t this a little too exciting?”
“Yes,” said Elder Benjamin. “I can’t feel the Spirit at all in there. This is all the Adversary’s work. He’s trying to hurt us.”
“It’ll all be over soon. An afternoon of moving, and we’ll be out of their hair forever.”
In contrast, our walk was quite peaceful. There was a certain peace among the ever-permeating busy bustle of traffic, kids, and conversations, a constant reminder that life was happening around us, and everything was flowing as normal. Despite the world falling apart in our apartment, it had no effect on the big machine that was life. Nearby a street vending was yelling, “eggs!” We could finally relax and enjoy church.
After doing our deeds and saying goodbye to our church mates, we went back to our apartment, where the yelling had already stopped. And then we finally had permission to move our stuff. Our two zone leaders also came: Elders Thomas and Sargent.
We used no trucks or dollies, so we had to carry everything. Even with the seven of us, including Ji-su, it took multiple trips. As long as we kept busy and kept things moving, our landlord and his new tenant seemed to be happy. Though, things could have gone a little faster with their help, you know.
The boxes were the easiest to carry, but we couldn’t carry too many a time. The heavier stuff was much more difficult. Luckily we didn’t have to mess with the sofa, dining room table, oven, and refrigerator. And of course, the new hot water heater. But everything else had to go.
The heaviest item: a large bookcase, and let me tell you, we missionaries loved our books. At every place I had lived, there had always been some kind of permanent library: a set of books that stayed with the district, some written in Korean, and some in English. And for some reason, our Chung-ri District had a small collection of other church’s religious tracts. Elder Shumway taught us that we could learn a lot from them, so we could prepare proper responses should the time ever come, that is before he would eventually flarmp them.
But now the bookcase was emptied, and the books carried away in separate boxes. We saved the bookcase for last, and now it was time. Four of us grabbed various corners, and oh my goodness, was it heavy!
Elder Riley said, “Ooof! I’m glad we cleared out the bookcase. But still, why is it so heavy?”
Elders Thomas and Johnston grunted in agreement, while Elder Benjamin laughed. “Wow — I wish I could help, but I just can’t get in there without getting in your way. I’ll escort you to our new apartment and handle the doors.”
I said, “Sounds … like a … plan! Let’s … do this.”
It was tricky and heavy, and we had to take multiple breaks along the way, but then it was done. When we got it to our new place, we just about collapsed.
Elder Benjamin walked over to the bookcase, now in its new permanent place against a wall, and he said, “Great job, Elders!” He then opened up a compartment and pulled out … his kabang stuffed to the rim with papers and books.
In between pants, Elder Riley said, “Wait. You put your kabang in the bookcase?”
“Seriously?” said Elder Johnston.
“Is that why it was so heavy?” said Elder Thomas.
Elder Benjamin responded, “Oh, I was just saving us another trip. Thanks, Elders!”
I busted up laughing, which then spread to all the other Elders. Ji-su walked over to us and asked, “Why are you laughing?”
“Oh, nothing,” said Elder Johnston. “Just a joke.”
“You Elders are so funny,” said Ji-su. “Well, I guess we’re done. Do you need me anymore?”
“No,” said Elder Johnston. “Thank you for your help. You were a lifesaver with the landlord.”
Elder Thomas said, “Elder Sargent and I will be on our way, too. Congrats on your new home! Don’t destroy it in one week.”
“We won’t,” said Elder Riley with a tiny bit of bight.
“Okay,” said Elder Johnston. “How about the rest of us go back to our old apartment and say goodbye? Make sure everything is gone and cleaned up, and turn our key back in.”
We went over, and no one was there. It was around dinner time, so perhaps they had gone out to eat? The apartment was largely empty except for the furniture that was supposed to stay and a few large items the new renter had already moved in. They smelled like smoke.
There wasn’t much left for us to do. We found a couple of small items left in the bathroom and one of our Korean hymnals hidden under the sofa. We gave the main room a quick sweeping, and then everything was clean.
“It looks like this is it,” said Elder Johnston as we stood congregated in our old living room. “So many memories here.”
We paused for a moment of silence. I remembered the moments when I first arrived — a couple of months before Elder Benjamin, when my companion was a deaf elder, and Elder Shumway was teaching us how to flarmp and donk. And then came Elder Benjamin, and the good times had increased. So much laughing, getting things done, always busy. Handling several different challenges as they occurred, and growing in the Spirit and learning more about the Gospel.
This is where it had all happened, and now it was time for us to leave — to have more memories in a different place.
“What should we do with the key?” asked Elder Riley. “Leave it on the couch?”
“No,” said Elder Johnston. “Who’d lock the door behind us? We’ll have to wait till the landlord comes back.”
“I have an idea,” said Elder Benjamin. “Follow me.”
We all went into the echo chamber — the bedroom that once belonged to Elder Benjamin and me. It was still completely empty. The paint on the wall was now dry, and with all the flat surfaces, it seemed to echo more than before.
“Okay,” said Elder Riley. “We’re all in here. What are we doing?” His words reverberated.
“Let’s see that hymnal,” said Elder Benjamin. “How about Father in Heaven? I’ll take baritone.” I took second tenor, Elder Johnston picked the bass, and Elder Riley sang the melody. We gathered around the hymnal. Having perfect pitch, I provided the starting notes, and then we sang.
And I’ll tell you right here and now, with all the musical experiences I had in life after that point, including singing with an orchestra, in a Christmas tree, in a couple of temple dedications, and even in Carnegie Hall, there has been nothing so beautiful as what I had heard in that makeshift echo chamber with the four of us humble missionaries singing a hymn in perfect harmony, with reverb filling in all gaps.
It was like being in our own monastery — monks filling the room with the Spirit. The heavens were opened, and the music filled our souls. So much peace.
We sang all three verses, and then let the sound die out to silence. Only then did Elder Riley say, “Wow. That was cool.”
“Yes,” we all said. And then we heard a noise. The landlord and the new renter were back in the living room, a couple of tears on their cheeks.
“Oh,” said Elder Johnston as we left the old bedroom. “Mr. Landlord! I have the key. Here you go.”
“Thank you,” said the landlord. After a slightly awkward pause, he added, “Hey. I’m sorry I yelled at you guys before.”
“Me too,” said the new renter. “You missionaries are all right, and enjoy your new apartment.”
Elder Johnston gave both of them a card, and then we left. The door shut behind us, and we would never again see the inside of that apartment.
We hurried back to our new home and commenced with moving everything into its place.
As Elder Benjamin and I set up our new bedroom, he said to me, “That was just amazing. Did you see the look in our landlord’s eyes? I think he’s going to remember us forever, and he’s going to check out the Church. I know it’s going to happen. He heard us singing, and he felt the Spirit, something he’s never felt before. I had no idea they were going to walk in on us. I just wanted to get in a good hymn, but Heavenly Father knew what was going to happen. That’s why he encouraged us to sing.
“Even during the hardest times, the Spirit is always there. And if we listen and follow its promptings, good things will happen. They were yelling at us for days to get out of the apartment, and then they said we were all right. One of them is going to find the Gospel — I think it’s going to be the landlord.”
“Yes,” I said. “That was amazing. It was also nice to take a quick break away from always being busy.”
“We never know what’s …”
Suddenly there was a yell from another room. “NNNOOOOOO!!!!”
“Was that Elder Riley?” I asked.
“I think so,” said Elder Benjamin as we darted out of the room. We nearly crashed into Elder Johnston.
“Elders — come check out the back!” yelled Elder Riley.
We all ran in and saw Elder Riley pointing down. He said with much contempt, “It’s a yeontan heater!”
We all yelled, “NNNNNOOOOOO!!!”
