So we bused them in--191 missionaries in suits and ties. It was quite a sight. We lined them all up from tallest to shortest. There were a lot of shortest. A professional photographer then took them 20 at a time and lined them up on rows on the temple lawn to take a professional photo. Line 'em up, snap a dozen shots, go into the stake center and start the conference. Easy, right? Should take about 15-20 minutes. That is what we planned to happen. Not so fast there, Newt. That would be way too easy.

After 45 minutes of melting to a puddle in the mid-morning sun--I was personally drenched completely through after 5 minutes, blinded by my own sweat, and getting cranky because my Old Spice Original Scent had long since turned from a light green pleasant smelling gel to an I-don't-know-what-color brackish oil slick; my underwear felt like wet Saran Wrap. I went and asked the photogs, as politely as I could what in Mexico was the holdup. They had, by then, seated 11 sister missionaries and 9 elders on chairs and had an additional 20 standing behind them. The problem was that the hill sloped up but also pitched to the east-south-east. Way too many directions to deal with. What if this were a 3-D project? Oh my!


So, I told the missionaries to pick up the chairs. We moved to the steps in front of the temple. I had the missionaries stand on the steps behind the chairs. There were more steps behind the first row. Risers! What a novel idea! The photogs were amazed! In five minutes all the missionaries were in place. We all looked down the barrels of the cameras and together said, "José Smeeth" so that we were all showing our teeth at the same time.


Snap, crackle, pop, and we were done.

We moved into the stake center for a six-hour zone conference, fed them Costco pizza, and kissed them good-bye.