This story takes place in early 1972, I remember because that year was the year that I was conscripted into the Australian Army as a National Serviceman in July. Critical to the story is that I had become a convert to the Mormon church about six months earlier and was following my brother’s conversion to that organization some 2 years earlier.

It was a Sunday, and I was proudly driving my 1961 Holden sedan car making the short journey to yet another church meeting.

Being a recent convert to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, I was still full enthusiasm for the church and mostly because of the huge amount of love and positive feedback showered on me by the other members praising me and supporting me each time I showed that I was becoming more and more invested in the Mormon Church and its teachings.

On this Sunday, I had already attended my priesthood class early in the morning. The main claim of validity for this church is that they are the only church on earth that has a direct lineage of authority from god through their prophet Joseph Smith for the priesthood that they have been ordained with. Every male is then also ordained by a priesthood holder who has this authority but only once they are considered worthy, which translates into demonstrating that you are sufficiently indoctrinated in the beliefs, customs, and teachings of the church and you are fully obedient to all church prohibitions and requirements. The priesthood class can only be for the men of the church because it is god’s decree that only males are eligible to hold the priesthood. All very solemn and important so of course women are excluded from this “privilege” in the church. The place for a woman was to support and serve the priesthood holder in her household and of course, cover all the other duties of a wife, mother and home maker.

At the close of that meeting, and after a short break where the men go home to collect their families, I went home, and almost immediately returned to attend Sunday School. All members go to Sunday School because there is always more to learn, and often a member takes a turn at teaching the class since having to prepare a lesson that would be presented to a small group in a Sunday School class is one of the best ways for members to be reading more of the church’s doctrines.

Around midday after Sunday School was over, I was on my way to the city for a big meeting at the Stake House, the central meeting house for all Mormons in this region. Such meetings were called Stake Conferences and were considered very important and all members were expected to go, and I was surely happy to go. The Stake President was a very portly and wonderful grandfatherly figure, and he always called me Sunshine, which I enjoyed a lot because it gave me a feeling of belonging. I never thought that just maybe it was because he couldn’t remember my name - no, couldn’t be that.

As I was starting out on the drive, I saw a young lady, more a teenage girl, hitching a ride. This was the middle of the day on a Sunday, in the suburbs with a lot of people out and about. This was the early 1970s and hitch hiking was a common way for people, particularly young people, to get around and was not thought to be as risky as it is known to be today. And me, being a righteous and concerned sort of guy, thought that I should help this young lady out and take her safely to where she needed to go. So, I stopped, she thanked me, and asked if I could give her a ride to a spot about halfway in my journey so I said “Sure, hop in.”

The start of the conversation as we drove was that she asked me, seeing my somewhat formal attire, where I was going. All members were expected to dress as well as they could afford to do when going to meetings in god’s house, so naturally I was in a white shirt and narrow black tie. I didn’t own a suit but would have worn it if I had.

When she asked me about it, I thought this to be a perfect opportunity for me to introduce the church to someone who had not had the great fortune that I had of finding the church and becoming a member. Then I had the thought that perhaps this wasn’t a chance meeting, but that god had caused her to be there at that time and place for the very purpose of meeting with me and thus I was being used by god to help her come to know the great news of how Jesus had restored his priesthood authority to the earth and it is now available for all of us (well, no priesthood for her, of course, but… you know) thus allowing us a path to salvation. God moves in mysterious ways, and I had been told many conversion stories from other members that went along similar lines to the way this situation was unfolding.

When offering her a ride, and she accepting it, clearly was a message that I was under an obligation to god to carry my end of the arrangement. And why not? Wasn’t being a member of the only true church on the face of the earth worth hearing about? And how could I possibly let this opportunity for her go by and so deny her the very salvation and eligibility to stay for eternity in the celestial kingdom with god that only this church allows people of the earth to be entitled to?

I think that everyone reading this story has, at some time in their life, met some zealous guy like this, and tells the story over and over at parties and gives a huge laugh to all their friends. Yep, that was me, but like all such people who have the joy of conversion to (insert cult name here, all will fit just as well) I thought I was the fortunate one, and if I tell her, and she sees the light, she will surely thank me for it one day.

Her question was something like “So, where you going? Got a big date?” which was really a nice ice breaker with an element of humor to keep things light. And my answer “Oh no, better than that!”

Today is the sabbath day, so of course, a normal date would be out of the question. “I am on my way to the main meeting house of our church for our monthly Stake Conference.”

“Oh, I see” she said flatly, the light tone of voice instantly gone.

Proudly I launched into my story of how I had already been to the two earlier meetings on this sabbath day and that there were just so many wonderful friends and so much love at these meetings that I am always just feeling so happy.

Driving along, I couldn’t watch her all the time as I told the story, so missed most of her reaction. When I did look over, with my “See what an amazing and righteous guy you have fortunate enough to meet today” smile, she was sitting way over against the door, one hand on the door handle, worried look on her face, and not able to look back at me.

“What’s up?” I innocently ask, of course concerned only that she had remembered something that I could help her with.

“Um, can you stop at that corner just there?”

Slowing the car to stop for her, I saw her hand jerk on the door handle and she getting hurriedly out the moment the car stopped. She didn’t give any reason, didn’t say thank you, didn’t say anything at all, which I found a bit puzzling. And this was a long way before where she said she was wanting to go. All very strange.

As she closed the door, she just threw me a look through the window. It was that look, a cross between scared and relieved to be getting away, that was the loudest message I have ever heard.

I suddenly thought maybe I had come on a bit too strongly, so to fix it I called out to her “I’m not a religious fanatic”. But hearing this, she didn’t look back, but just quickened her step and she disappeared from my view in seconds.

So, now I am sitting in my car at the side of the road with only the sound of the running engine. I looked out at the direction she went, and the whole encounter replayed in my mind. Suddenly I could see it, I could see myself as she must have seen me, and it didn’t look good. It became clear that her reaction to me was normal, natural, and predictable. I had become a person that only other Mormons could stand being in the company of. I had become what would be broadly described as a religious fanatic and now I knew it. I hated the thought that maybe I had become the guy that no one wanted to ever be stuck with sitting next to on a bus.

As I look back now, this was a great epiphany that has benefited me enormously ever since. It was a chapter in my life that was certainly interesting to look back on, but not one that I would repeat and would advise anyone against it.