Trustees

Hear the story read by the author.

In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm. One Sunday during coffee hour Pastor Henry O’Donnell approached Kevin Boyer to ask him to serve on the church board of trustees. The pastor explained that he liked to rotate new blood onto the decision making organs of the church from time to time to keep things fresh and involve the younger generation in leadership.

Kevin was reluctant. He told the pastor that he wasn’t sure if he had the time to give proper attention to such an important position (by which he really meant that he feared serving as a trustee might cut into his time watching football on TV or playing basketball with his friends on Sunday afternoons). Besides, Kevin added, he didn’t even really know what a trustee was.

“The trustees are responsible for the physical plant,” Pastor O’Donnell explained. “They approve repairs and improvements to the building, buying new furniture, that sort of thing. The church office handles all the actual contracting and so forth. The trustees simply oversee it. They meet every two months for an hour or so after church.”

Kevin hemmed and hawed but Pastor O’Donnell was persistent. Finally Kevin admitted that it sounded like something he could handle. “Good,” Pastor O’Donnell replied, slapping Kevin on the shoulder. “I think you’re going to enjoy it.” The pastor wasn’t above the occasional little white lie when recruiting church members to service.

A few minutes later 70 year-old Henrietta Miggins stomped over to Kevin. “So,” Henrietta said, “I hear Pastor O’Donnell put you on trustees. As chairwoman I need to explain a few things about your duties.”

Neglecting to mention that Henrietta was chair of trustees was another one of Pastor O’Donnell’s recruiting strategies.

“Our job is to make sure member’s tithes are wisely spent,” Henrietta continued. “There are people who would throw church money around like it has an expiration date. You wouldn’t believe the crazy stuff folks want to buy when they don’t have to pay for it out of their own pocket. This generation has no sense of thriftiness or responsibility. In my day people knew the value of the dollar. I expect you to show similar restraint. Do you understand me?”

“Yes ma’am,” Kevin said. He didn’t customarily use the word “ma’am” but somehow it seemed to fit Henrietta.

“Good.” Henrietta replied with a stern frown. “We’re meeting at noon next week. Be punctual.”

The following week, Del Winslow came up to Kevin in coffee hour and offered him a donut. “Just wanted to welcome the newest trustee,” Del said. “Don’t worry, it’s not so bad. Just be careful not to get Ralph going on some long rant about healthy snacks at coffee hour.”

“Frankly, I’m still not quite sure what trustees do,” Kevin admitted as he bit into the jelly donut.

“It’s not hard,” Del told him. “For example, notice how the linoleum in here is chipped and peeling?” He gestured around the room. The floor was in pretty bad shape.

“Today we’re voting to replace it with a hard wood floor which, incidentally, will improve the acoustics dramatically. The choir performs in here from time to time, and let me tell you, it’s pretty awful.”

Kevin nodded sagely trying not to let on that he knew about as much about acoustics as he did the chemical composition of the soil on Venus.

“Mostly it’s pretty straightforward stuff like that. That old crow Henrietta Miggins throws a fit over every dime we spend but I just ignore her. It’s our job to keep this place in good order. We can’t have it falling down around us now, can we? Enjoy your donut.” Del clapped Kevin on the back and headed off to refill his coffee cup.

As Kevin dabbed at a jelly spot on his shirt with a napkin, his wife Jill returned from retrieving their two girls from Sunday school. She asked if he was ready for his first big trustees meeting.

“I guess,” Kevin said.

“Well, I’m proud of you,” Jill beamed. “Missy was just telling me how you guys are going to put hardwood flooring in here. That will be so pretty. I’ll take the girls to get some lunch and we’ll pick you up when you’re done.”

She kissed him and headed out. Then Ralph Billings came over. “How do you feel about the environment?” Ralph asked.

“I guess I’m for it,” Kevin said.

“Good. I’ve been trying to get the trustees to approve several green initiatives for the church. I hope I can count on your support.”

Kevin began to suspect he’d wandered into a minefield without being aware of it. As he considered how to reply, Henrietta Miggins called for them to come to the church office.

“Our first item on the agenda is the floor in the social hall,” Henrietta said once all seven committee members and Pastor O’Donnell were seated. “We have to make a decision today – replace the linoleum that has served us well for twenty years with newer linoleum or switch to more expensive hardwood flooring.”

Within seconds a heated debate had erupted. On the one hand Del Winslow, choir director Shane Reed and Missy Moore wanted hardwood flooring for its acoustic value and attractiveness.

Henrietta of course thought hardwood was far too extravagant. She was supported by Celia Simmons, a 73 year-old African American woman who was a member of the choir but shared Henrietta’s opinions on thrift.

When Ralph’s turn came to talk he said, “The choir always gets whatever it wants. I think we should put in linoleum and use the savings to buy energy efficient lighting.”

Pastor O’Donnell declined to take a side, reminding them that as clergy he was not technically a voting member of the committee.

Kevin discovered he was the swing vote. As the two sides lobbied him on their respective points of view, he tried to give Pastor O’Donnell a dirty look but the pastor’s attention seemed focused on his cuticles and he never met Kevin’s gaze.

Finally Kevin said he needed to use the restroom and beat a hasty retreat.

As he was returning, he encountered Jose, the church janitor, mopping the social hall. “Hi Jose,” Kevin said. “Hey, can I get your opinion on something? We’re going to replace this floor. Do you think hardwood or linoleum would be better.”

Jose pondered the question then shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess linoleum. It lasts longer.”

Kevin thanked him and returned to the meeting. After another twenty minutes of debate, Henrietta called for a vote. It came around to Kevin tied 3-3. “Linoleum,” Kevin said. “It lasts longer.”

The hardwood camp groaned and protested but Henrietta declared the matter decided. Del glared at Kevin and he suspected he hadn’t heard the end of this subject. But for the moment he didn’t care. He was due at a basketball game with his friends.