Earlier this summer I was given an opportunity to do something I really love: marketing for my church.
For the past 81 years, St. Christopher Catholic Church has hosted a mid-summer festival. I have jokingly called it the biggest non-race event in Speedway. I don’t know if that’s true, but we can just go with it 🙂
Each year thousands of people turn out for our hand-battered fish, carnival rides, casino games and, for the last few years, our beer selection. It’s a wonderful tradition my family has always enjoyed. As a young child, my mom was in charge of handling carry out and we’d help out alongside her. For the past 5 years, I’ve volunteered in the pie room. But this year I expanded my duties.
The festival committee posted in an ad in our weekly bulletin asking for marketing help. I immediately respond and was quickly asked to take on the role.
AND I HAD A BLAST!
I scheduled two T.V. interviews. One with IndyStyle Wednesday morning and I also had Carlos Diaz from WTHR come out Thursday morning, the first day of the festival, to do live shots about our annual tradition.
It was such a treat to spread the good word about all the hard work everyone is doing behind the scenes at our festival. I’m proud of all the work everyone is doing and I’m so happy I brought attention to these dedicated volunteers.
Funny Story About Marketing For My Church
I do have a pretty funny story to share about some of the danger associated with marketing for my church.
Since we had to be prepared to go live with WTHR at 5 a.m., I wanted the carnival lights on during the segments. It was pitch black and the lights would look amazing. One of the festival chairmen asked the head of the carnival company to get up and turn the lights on for us. He said no. It was too early for “carni-folk.”
At 4:40 a.m., I’m kind of internally panicking because no lights meant no fun. I’m in the business of making good T.V. and we need those lights on for the segments. I said, “I’ll just knock on his trailer door.”
Everyone who arrived early for the segment wished me well and prayed I wouldn’t die a carni-death.
I marched out to the trailer at 4:50 a.m. and knocked loudly. He opened the window – not the door – and with my biggest smile and sweetest voice, I said, “Good morning, sir! Since we have WTHR coming out here this morning to talk about our festival, I was wondering if we could get the lights on?” He laughed this smokers-cough and asked when I needed them on. I said 25 minutes. He agreed!
Everyone was so happy I survived a near carni-death and our T.V. segments were awesome! We had a near record-setting year and I’m happy to have played a part in their success!