HARLEM, N.Y. -- Squeezed in among boarded-up buildings and graffiti-covered walls of 129th Street near Lenox Avenue sits a self-enclosed garden, awash in blossoming flowers and fresh vegetables.
This is the work of modern-day Mormons, who transformed the vacant lot from a pile of dirt, weeds, rocks and bricks into an urban oasis, much the way 19th century Latter-day Saints made the Utah desert "blossom as a rose."
The garden is part of efforts by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to establish a presence in Harlem's mostly African American neighborhood. It is a challenge, given some natural resistance to the LDS Church.
>This is the church, after all, which did not allow black men to be ordained to its lay priesthood until 1978.
"That was a thing back then; it's not now," says Julia Caceres, who was baptized in 1985, but didn't start attending regularly until 1997 when a small LDS branch formed in the neighborhood.
"The Lord wants us to be here in Harlem," says Caceres, a black single mother of seven children, ranging from 7 to 27.
Long-time Mormon Polly Dickey, a black woman with four grown children, is not troubled when people ask her how she can belong to a faith perceived by many as racist.
"I found something I wanted," says Dickey, who joined the LDS Church in 1992. "There were answers for every question I had."
On a personal level, Dickey feels her fellow Mormons are "there for you 24/7. The church loves me more than I love myself sometimes."
The Harlem branch is one of 46 LDS congregations in greater New York City, including 21 Spanish-speaking units, two that use American Sign Language, and one each operating in Chinese and Korean, says James Lucas, who completed a study of Mormons for a recently-published volume, New York Glory: Religions in the City.
Using U.S. census categories, Lucas estimates that LDS New Yorkers are 50 percent Hispanic, 25 percent non-Hispanic white, 20 percent non-Hispanic black and 5 percent Asian and other ethnicities.
The Harlem branch has mostly black members, though some are Hispanics and whites.
The majority of black Latter-day Saints in New York City are immigrants, Lucas writes. "Most of them are from the West Indies, with a number from various African nations as well."
Beyond that, the ethnic congregations are largely made up of recent converts to the church; a majority of which are female (64 percent), Lucas writes.
Dickey was among the Harlem branch's founding members when it organized in 1997. The dozen or so organizers met on the second floor of Sylvia's Restaurant on Lenox Avenue, owned by one of the members. A branch is a small Mormon congregation, too few in number to be designated a "ward."
Within two years, the Harlem branch moved around the corner to a squat, windowless building it bought from the Jehovah's Witnesses. But LDS membership in the mostly African American neighborhood has risen so steadily the church decided to establish a permanent presence in the community. It now counts 235 members on the rolls, with an average weekly attendance at services of between 65 and 75.
In February, LDS officials purchased property on the corner of 128th and Lenox, with plans to replace the old boarded-up structures with a spanking new four-story building.
The plan ran into a snag in August when LDS officials learned the building had a tenant -- Victor Parker, who claimed he had paid rent until 1993 when the building's ownership became unclear. After that, Parker continued to pay only his utility bills.
When the church tried to evict Parker, Harlem's community leaders stepped in to defend him. Since then, church attorneys and ecclesiastical leaders have worked to relocate Parker, but as of this week, he remains in the condemned building.
"The church is committed to being a good neighbor," says Dale Bills, a church spokesman in Salt Lake City. "We're confident that the matter will be resolved appropriately."
>Some black Mormons in Harlem are pleased with so-called gentrification efforts, even if it means displacing the poor, says Bill Cottam, second counselor in the Harlem LDS branchpresidency. "They still sell drugs in [Dickey's] building, and it's next to the police station."
Dickey is one who is glad the Mormons are moving in. She first heard about Mormonism from a television ad offering a free Book of Mormon. Dickey immediately sent away for it.
It was the late 1980s, and the only thing the Harlem mother knew about Mormonism was it had a famous choir. When the blue paperback arrived, Dickey says, she didn't recognize any of the names and couldn't understand much of the language. Still, it "felt comfortable."
The book laid largely untouched in her apartment for five years until there came a knock on the door. She opened it to find two dark-suited young men.
"I don't have enough problems, now two lawyers are at my door," Dickey recalls thinking.
Then she saw they were holding the same book she had purchased years earlier, so she made an appointment to talk with them later that week.
"I've been with the missionaries ever since," says Dickey, who has served as a stake missionary, a church librarian and as a president of the women's Relief Society organization.
The branch is dominated by females, who outnumber men 3-to-1, says Cottam, a Caucasian writer who lives in mid-town Manhattan. "It's a women's world in Harlem."
Cottam enjoys listening to "Fanny" and "Jenny," two sisters in their 80s and 90s who are known by their first names and "always speak their minds."
The preponderance of women in the branch is a problem for a church that relies on men to serve as leaders.
"Most are single moms," says Ron Anderson, a white accountant who serves as the branch president. "We have trouble finding enough men to fill all the [priesthood] positions."
Several white people, including members of Harlem's branch presidency and heads of auxiliary programs for women, teens and children, are "on special assignment" from other New York City wards to provide leadership.
Some Mormon students attending college in the city also serve as mentors to youths or offer literacy classes in the neighborhood.
For some members of the Harlem branch, the church has become almost a substitute family, one that supports and cares for them.
"You go there, everybody's blessing you, everybody is friendly, everybody gets along really well," says Ralph Accosta, 71, dubbed "the mayor of 129th Street" by The New York Times. "I like the peace and quiet. That's really nice."
He has tried a lot of churches in the neighborhood and prefers the Mormons, Accosta says. "If I miss church one day, they're out looking for me, and I appreciate that."