It is mid-June 2006, and the Greater Columbus Convention Center is buzzing with more than 9,500 deputies, visitors, and media waiting to hear the news. In the center's back-of-house hallways, the Right Reverend Katharine Jefferts Schori, her family, and escorts, are making their way to the main exhibit hall. In a few minutes, she will be introduced as the Presiding Bishop-elect at the 75th General Convention of the Episcopal Church - the first woman to hold the position in the church's 220-year history. The air crackles with anticipation. Emotions are running high.

It was an adrenaline-pumped few moments, and Lori Ionnitiu, the Episcopal Church's director of meetings and conventions, was glad she had her logistics neatly in order. "We figured our route out ahead of time, because it was a maze and we certainly didn't want to get lost while moving her. We knew there would be no way to get through the crowds at the front door. Instead we picked her up at Trinity Church a few blocks away, picked her family up who were on standby at a nearby hotel, and drove them all to the back entrance of the convention center. People internally were opening locked doors so we could take her into the hall to be introduced."

The announcement of a Presiding Bishop-elect occurs every nine years and always receives attention. Ionnitiu, who has been planning meetings for the church for 23 years, knew the media would be descending. "I've gone through two other elections before, but this one had more of a twist, because it was a woman and everybody wanted to interview her." Almost 300 members of the press were clamoring for a quote, a shot, or a sound bite, but to keep it under control, they had to go through the church communications department. "They were really active in setting up those arrangements so she could still participate in the work that was still being done over the next few days we were still in session," Ionnitiu recalled.

Laying the Ground Rules

The media frenzy at the last General Convention three years ago, when the first openly homosexual bishop was named, gave Ionnitiu insight on how to handle this year's gathering. "That was much more crazy; almost 400 media showed up at the last minute. This time we were prepared and it was not that big of a deal. We held press conferences in a hotel next door and at the sessions in the convention center, we curtained off areas for TV crews and photographers. No cameras were allowed in the hallways, which helped a lot. If the media wanted to be at a session, they had to stay in these designated areas and not wander around in people's faces," she explained.

Committee hearings are an integral part of the convention and anybody who is registered, from a deputy to a visitor, can attend and voice their opinions. The committees usually draw between 50 and 100 people. But the three-hour committee hearing dealing with the Windsor Report - a follow-up examination of the last convention's controversy - drew more than 1,500. In order to ensure official representatives of the church got in, a new ticketing system was implemented. "We had seating for 1,500 people in the ballroom and allowed each deputation of our church to have four tickets. That way they were guaranteed seats and all our dioceses were represented. If they didn't arrive by a certain time, they lost their place. Then we opened the doors to the rest of the public and filled the seats," Ionnitiu explained.

Another innovation was to allow those who couldn't fit in the room to listen to the proceedings. "We still had a lot of people in the foyer and we had to keep the doors closed because we didn't want crowding at the doorways. So we piped the audio into the hallway. This was something we learned from the last convention. People aren't happy if they can't get in, but if they can hear they feel better."

Keeping the Media in Line

A second storm of media coverage occurred after the Windsor Report was presented when a resolution was passed calling for the denial of any candidate to the episcopate whose "manner of life presents a challenge to the church." For days, the nation was deluged with emotionally charged TV clips of clergy and laypeople voicing opinions on either side of the issue.

Despite the coverage, the meeting itself was orderly. Ionnitiu credits the smooth sailing to a fine-tuning of the infrastructure after assessing the experience three years prior. "We had always dealt with print but we hadn't had that much experience with broadcast media. At the last convention, they hit us from every direction. Our communication department, which handles credentialing and press conferences, was overwhelmed. As a result we were dealing with a lot of media who didn't want to wait for credentialing. They were walking around and we had to kick them out of the halls."

A key point in her strategy this year was to double the number of public safety volunteers, a group of 40 that was trained to provide security and first aid. They were charged with keeping the media in line, breaking up scrums that caused traffic jams and kicking cameras out of off-limits areas.

"The main thing was to avoid an argument and you can only do that with enough people," Ionnitiu said.

In total, she had a team of 50 working with her; two full-time staff, 28 volunteer coordinators, nine translators, two local committee members, and six subcontractor liaisons. In addition, the support staff for the meeting's legislation functions was 75 people and there were 1,300 local volunteers (including those on the public safety detail) to help wherever needed.

One of the biggest lessons she learned about media at the last convention was to be vigilant. "You really can't turn your back on them. The minute you walk away, they're going to try something else. This year I had a couple of satellite trucks that I told to park in a certain place. I walked away and 10 minutes later they were parked in a whole different area, blocking my ground transportation drop-off point. I made them pull up all their cabling and go to the original parking spot. You can't believe adults would behave like that, but they're out for a story and want to get a shot the other station doesn't get. We learned that last time. I felt like I was watching children in grade school."

Planning for Protestors

Surprisingly, there was no trouble with protesters at the meeting. "This was my eighth convention and the only one where there wasn't any protestors," Ionnitiu said.

Prior to every convention, she meets with the police department, briefs them on the group that is coming in and gives them a history of the situations that have arisen in the past. Paramount to her planning is finding out who owns the sidewalk. "When you lease some convention centers you also lease the sidewalk, so protestors can't go there. In Columbus, the convention center does not own the sidewalk. It's public, so there would have been nothing we could have done to stop them. The laws of the city said you couldn't stand still and block pedestrian traffic, but if they were moving, they wouldn't have been breaking the law."

In an upcoming meeting with the police in Anaheim (where the next General Convention will be held), one of her first questions will be, "If I were a protester, where would I go?"

Policing and safety are critical points in her planning, but even more primary is food.

"I have to make sure there are enough restaurants so everyone can eat dinner around the same time," she explains. Did any of her scheduled meal breaks run into trouble this year? "One evening a meeting broke at 6 p.m. and was called back at 7:30 p.m. People couldn't get to a restaurant and eat fast enough, so I approached some of the fast food outlets in the convention area and told them we're going to have 1,500 people that will need to eat quickly. Plus, we let all the hotels know. By giving them the heads up, no one went hungry."

No Room at the Inn

Another challenge was hotel rooms. This year, the Episcopal Church ran out of downtown options. "All of a sudden," Ionnitiu related, "more people were interested in coming and we had to scramble to get additional rooms. Our meeting was in June so we were also competing with graduations and weddings." More rooms were found at the airport, but that led to another challenge: shuttle service. "We already had a minimal shuttle service going since half of the hotels were farther than walking distance from the convention center, so we extended it," she said. Thinking ahead to possible contingencies, she had hired a transportation company with a large fleet, but scheduling posed another problem. "When sessions ran overtime we had to quickly let the shuttle service know." One closed session went late and Ionnitiu was left trying to figure out how to get everybody back to their hotels. "People get angry when there's no transportation. I ended up running over to the shuttle place and telling them they'd be needed later."

Fear of the Unknown

 Ionnitiu admits her biggest headache was not shuttles or unruly press but worrying about equipment breakdowns. "The more technology you have, the more room there is for breakdowns," she says. This year her translators (for the international deputies) had problems with their headsets. The convention center sat next to a large radio tower that may have caused the transmission breaks. In addition, trains ran under the center interrupting the frequencies. "Things don't work and sometimes it's easy to fix, like a fax machine that isn't plugged in. What I worry about more is integral systems, like our computer networking system, going down. If that happens we're in big trouble. We only have nine days and a lot of really important business has to be done. We can't bring people back."

Democratic decision-making is the main focus of the convention and it's part of Ionnitiu's job to monitor the process. "Our event is like the congress of the United States. We have two houses and keeping track of legislations is complex. If something is passed in one house it then goes to the other house for approval. A piece of legislation can bounce back and forth a couple of times," she explained.

When problems arise, Ionnitiu's mandate is to handle them "gracefully and quickly." For the myriad of decisions voted upon, electronic voting machines are usually employed. But some of the votes are complex and are called for spontaneously so there is no chance to set up the machines. "We had some voting glitches this time. Some of the people weren't following the directions," she said. "It was quite complicated, so we gave up and did it manually. If plan A doesn't work, my staff is ready to go to plan B, which is to do it manually."

Ionnitiu meets with her staff each night to go over any possible complications they might face the next day. "They have to be on standby," she said.

Her advice to other meeting planners faced with potentially contentious events? "If things are really coming at you, you can only plan to a certain degree. You can plan as much as possible but, once you are there and people arrive, the convention has a life of its own. You can only hope you have prepared for every contingency. If something happens that you could never have imagined, you have to work with a group of people who can take action immediately ... a good team that will work together to overcome any challenge."

Of course, it helps to have a sense of humor, too. "I try to find the humor [in the situation] and laugh at it. If you don't, you won't be able to make it through the next day."

Contributing Editor Maureen Littlejohn is a freelance writer in Toronto