So as many of you know, Fr. Pf., recently of St. Sebastian, has become pastor of St. Paul in Akron. A couple of weeks ago a classmate of mine and I went to the St. Paul rectory to help Fr. Pf move things around a bit.
St. Paul rectory is a nice sized rectory. It is three stories plus a nice basement. Three of the four levels (as you can see below) are serviced by an elevator.
The dining room chairs are on the third floor and the dining room table is on the first (in the dining room.) Our job was to reunite the two.
"Elevator", in my estimation, is a kind word for this contraption. It is retro fitted into the rectory. Apparently it was added a good while back for one of the residents who needed it. The clever chaps who added it took out closets on three of the four levels of the house and put in a BOX on a STRING that went between floors. This is my impression of this contraption:
So we go about the process of bringing the heavy wooden chairs from the third floor down to the second at which point they were put on the Box on a String and shipped down to the first floor. The Box on a String is SO SMALL that only two chair at a time could fit on it.
So, as these things go, the last two chairs are on the Box on a String when it gets caught between floors. Looking down I can see that the door is caught on a wire. I send the other two guys on while I valiantly seek to fix the thing. So I crawl in and cram myself into the Box on a String.
The thing really in only big enough for one person - not one person and two chairs. So once on board I can barely move. But despite that, the wire is unhooked from the door and I climb back up to the second floor where Sebastian (my dog) is barking wildly.
Now the trip down to the first floor is made, the button pressed, and I am SO PROUD of myself for having fixed the Box on a String. It arrives, I open up the door, step in to take the chairs out and . . .
If you were standing in the vacant area that one second ago was the Box on a String, this is what you would see looking out at me.