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Two weeks ago, Rutgers Hillel president Hilary Neher sent an email to the student board, breaking the news that the infamous minority, gay, and Jew-bashing Westboro Baptist Church was coming to town Oct. 28.

We had 24 hours to decide how to respond to this group of crazies that was not worth our time, but still garnered enough social and media attention for us not to be silent. The student board decided unanimously that something needed to be done. But, what?

What was the appropriate response to a group whose reason for protesting was New Jersey is "so friggin' weird about everything?" What could we do to not legitimize their claims, but yet defend ourselves and the countless others on campus they offend? What are we allowed or not allowed to do? What format will the counter-protest take? What if the picketers never come? There were plenty of "who's," "why's," and only a handful of "how's," but that "what" remained up in the air.

Our options ranged from ignoring them completely to staging a full-scale counter-rally. While Hillel's executive staff and board of directors mulled over their options, The Daily Targum announced to the whole campus that Westboro was making their mark at Rutgers.

The article noted that our response was in the works; overnight, board members were approached by students at bus stops and classmates in chemistry labs: what was Hillel going to do?

For some, we didn't answer fast enough: we found out via Facebook.com about students who took matters into their own hands, establishing a counter protest of their own. They were filled with messages that Rutgers Hillel did not stand behind -- particularly ones that incited violence. Not only would that behavior reflect poorly on Hillel, but the offenders would be sued by the church, tossing the campus into one big legal mess.

Hillel needed to make it very clear that our counter-protest would be the only one we would stand behind, and it would take a position of no physical or verbal contact with the church members. These groups -- some who even sought a permit to organize from New Brunswick city council -- were quick to line up behind our efforts. Rutgers United Against Hate was born.

From there, the pieces began to fall into place. For 10 days, the board and lay leaders sat with executive staff to hammer out the nitty-gritty of the counter-protest. We decided to begin 15 minutes before Westboro's scheduled arrival, to have short speakers, and play music to drown out Westboro's Hava Nagila remix that not surprisingly includes "God hates Jews."

We had the police's full cooperation and support from student clubs and religious groups. All wanted to have a hand in the planning, or at minimum wanted to attend. Each board member brought a different student group into the fold and we watched the numbers increase on our own Facebook event, hitting more than 2,800 supporters by Wednesday morning.

Our greatest stumbling block came from legal matters: we were not allowed to use amplification of any kind at Rutgers United Against Hate. However, getting around this obstacle was not as difficult as we thought it would be: Hillel Executive Director Andrew Getraer would use a microphone just long enough to remind the crowd not to engage with Westboro before the police would tell us to shut it off (allowing our amplification would allow Westboro to use theirs, which could have escalated the tension, not to mention the noise laws it would violate.)

After Andrew, statements would be read in groups of 20 or more, a schedule would hang from Hillel's front door, papers would be passed out that detailed the decorum at the counter-protest, and Rutgers a cappella choirs volunteered to lend their beautiful voices to compete against the ugly ones coming from across the street.

Once Rutgers Hillel worked around the amplification issue, all the other "whats" fell into perfect harmony.

The day of the rally brought grey skies and heavy rain. Despite the weather, the student board, executive staff, and lay leaders all donned their yellow "Rutgers United Against Hate" T-shirts and got to work preparing for Westboro's arrival. Enthusiastic droves of Rutgers faculty, staff, students, and beyond crammed into the yellow-taped sections of sidewalk reserved for our supporters. It seemed that Westboro was excited to start, too: they came at 8:25, 20 minutes earlier than we expected them to arrive. By 8:40, the crowds spilled out of the yellow tape, and by 8:45, Westboro was gone.

Just because Westboro left did not mean the festivities had ended, though. We kept going with great performances from Rutgers a cappella groups Deep Treble, Kol Halayla, and Shockwave; the Livingston Theater Company's rendition of Rent (Westboro has picketed the play in the past); and statements on diversity and interfaith tolerance, which I participated in.

A generous donation from Highland Park's Trio Gifts provided us with 1,000 groggers (noisemakers) to "drown out" Westboro's hate. All the participants came decked out in their Rutgers best, carrying signs with everything from serious Bible quotes to downright funny parodies. The police told Rutgers Hillel that around 1,200 people came to our counter-rally. Compare that to Westboro's six -- in total!

In every aspect, this counter-protest was a success. The different communities represented in the crowd were truly inspiring. From Jews to Sikhs to Humanists; from blacks to gays to Asians; from students to faculty to those outside the Rutgers community; everyone was represented at Rutgers United Against Hate. It's no coincidence that "Hillel" was left out of that title -- this was meant to unite everyone under one banner -- and it did.

Sarah Morrison is a reporter for The Jewish State and secretary of Rutgers University Hillel.