Utah, Then and Now (Mostly Now, Almost 2021)

 

Intro

    I wanted to write about the make up and people of Utah, because I feel like I myself would like to get a better grasp of it (knowing a region, state, or population in any part of the world is worthwhile, really) and to possibly help others know more about what this state is and is not.

 

    I have personal interests in the composition and identity of the state of Utah and areas of it, which I will explain. Because of my personal and family religious affiliation and loyalties, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has been and likely always will be part of who I am and what I aspire to. The Church is headquartered in Salt Lake City, and has dominated its modern history as a force and mover of the population. I lived in the state for over a period of five years, I have friends and family in it, my religious leaders and co-members live there and look to it and them as a source of reference and guidance, as a base for the past, present, and future. It is the stronghold of my faith and much of my hopes and dreams.

    Through the Church and its people and vision (perspectives and trajectories), the prosperity, influence, and reach of its members, I believe Utah is part and parcel to the Church of Jesus Christ's successes and failures not only in the United State but worldwide, and this is no small thing.

    Anyway, my interests in this matter are not all simply in the members or presence and future of my faith and where its stronghold is, or even just population trends in my own country, but I am extremely interested in demographics of all peoples, and how things change over time. I would like to break down Kunduz Province of Afghanistan or Rajasthan State of India, or Shandong State (Province?) or China, or all of China, Indonesia, Nigeria, or Brazil, etcetera.

 

Further Explanation and Context 

    Some of the things going through my mind at the end of the 2020 pandemic year, probably not unlike many others, is the deeper thoughts of the United States or other environments with accusations and debates of systemic racism, white supremacy, financial inequalities, police brutality, misuse or abuse of law enforcement powers and its policies, and things that many celebrities and common folk have clamored to change.

    Also, while spending much more time at home quarantined and teleworking most of this year, I became more connected and aware of social media and streaming than ever before. I began watching one feature on FaceBook called Dry Bar comedy, which features comedians who go to Provo, Utah, where the comedy acts that they share (and I believe pays good money) is clean for the most part.  This brings into question culture in the sense that even though it seems that most successful comedians have a dirty part to their acts, there are times, places, and even cultures where it needs to be clean, rid of the the overtly sexual or profane language that becomes the norm, especially in 2020. (For younger audiences, there still were dirty routines and language used 50 or more used ago. George Carlin and Richard Pryor were big in the seventies, and I know there were blue comics before them).

    So, to many across the comedy scene, and a few others in the United States and elsewhere, like Hollywood, who has fought CleanFlix and other Utah-driven businesses that edit the rot and filth out of many other-wise entertaining films, know that the demand of this people is pushing a cleaner content, a more wholesome supply. This is very interesting to see how some of the comics, some or most of differing backgrounds, choose to approach their routines in Provo. Some engage in a little of the local culture, which means they either know about some of the cultural climate of Provo and the main faith, or they choose to have some fun with it. Some have reacted in new ways, like a Mennonite who announced that he was going to talk about his baptism as a youth and the crowd applauded. He responded with some incredulity that he had never gotten such a celebratory response before. Utahns, for the most part, like baptism. Of course you can find plenty that think it is an empty covenant, or others that condemn it for being coercive...

    But this post is not about beliefs and less actives and anti-Mormons, this is about demographics according to the sources which I will share. Much of it has to do with Utah's "whiteness" and the changes with that over time. I have friends or associates of color remark that watching Utah Jazz games seemed too white to them, which is a valid impression, if that is their perspective and feeling.

Statistics and Figures

    First of all, Utah has grown in population a lot more than many other states over the course of the last few decades. Part of that is because it has a higher birth rate than many other states, but I think the bigger reason is that the work and job market has been excellent, by and large. I worked there for a few years in the 1990s; I was always observing dynamic businesses and industries blooming, which has continued in the last 20 plus years.

    In terms of population growth rate since 1950: it has been 29.3 percent in the decade of Eisenhower, 18.9 percent in the time of the Vietnam War era, 37.9 percent in the decade of Nixon to Carter, 17.9 percent in the decade of Reagan, a large 29.6 percent in the 90s of Clinton, a whopping 23.8 n the 2000s of Bush, and an as to be determined percentage in the last decade, but estimated to be around 16 percent. This is still large and fast growth.

    Utah is now at 3.2 million residents, which is substantial, surpassing many older traditional states that were part of the Civil War and have been states for 8 or 9 decades longer than Utah. Noted that Utah was slower to become a state because of the Church and polygamy issue before and after the Civil War. It could have been a state by sheer population at least during the Civil War in the administration of Lincoln. Instead it waited till 1896, when plural marriage was confirmed as ended.

 

    But the babies and missionaries sent kept coming, many attracting some more converts back to Zion, a spiritual magnet to thousands around the world. It was the gathering place for acolytes, and still has its pull for many.

 

    But back to the "whiteness": equations.

    Here is the percentage of the white population in Utah since 1970, skipping 1980, close to when Salt Lake City attracted the Jazz, quite a coup for a smaller market, a smaller city:

1970       97.4 White

 

1990       93.8 white 

2000       89.2 white

2010       86.1 white

    As you can see by the consistent downward trend, like much of the rest of the United States, the white population has diminished. If trends continue in Utah as seen above the 2020 census would show white populations in the low 80 percentile. What has accounted for the change in biggest numbers?

    Despite the lack of the numbers by decade from the same graph as above, it has to be Latinos, who made up 13 percent in 2010, according to the U.S. census, and likely higher in 2020.

    Asians have increased over this time in Utah:

1970     0.6 percent Asian

1990     1.9 percent Asian

2000     1.7 percent Asian

2010     2.0 percent Asian

    Members of the Church of Jesus Christ have grown in many parts of Asia, to include Japan, South Korea, and most robustly in the Philippines. Even Burmese have been congregating in Utah, plus Vietnamese, some of whom I worked with in 1997 in Pleasant Grove, of Utah County. Some of the converts wind up moving to Utah, which is a religious, spiritual, sometimes academic, or cultural trend.  Other  Asians, to include Indians or other South Asians, may have nothing to do with the Church but come for work, the American way. Two percent in 2010, which has likely risen since then, for an Inter-Mountain West state, is relatively high, I would wager.

     The number of African-Americans, while small per national average, has grown steadily:

1970      0.6 percent African-American

 

1990      0.7 percent African-American

2000      0.8 percent African-American

2010      1.0 percent African-American

    I presume that the percentage of African-Americans has risen in Utah in the last ten years, so perhaps it will be closer to 1.5 percent in 2020. The LDS Church has permitted Blacks/African-Americans the priesthood since 1978. Numbers in the U.S. and more so externally have grown ever since as far as the people of the majority religion of Utah. Both American Blacks and international Black people would be attracted to living in Utah, despite some perceptions of past or even current racism. Hurricane Katrina in 2005 displaced many African-Americans from New Orleans; some made their way to the Beehive State; some never left. Some athletes who lived in Utah through BYU, the University of Utah, other schools like Utah State or Weber State, or the aforementioned Utah Jazz, have been exposed to the doctrine, practice, culture of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and either liked Utah or the faith itself and joined, or never left. Some African-American converts have emigrated to Utah, while some unrelated Black people have come for work, as has been the trend overall. 

 

    It is less than 10 percent the national average, but there are many states in the more rural West that have relatively sparse numbers of African-Americans, but those numbers are changing.

Native

1970      1.1 percent Native American

1990      1.4 percent Native American

2000      1.3 percent Native American

2010      1.2 percent Native American

     The one percent that rose from 1970 to 1990 might have been an aberration, or perhaps the Native American presence has steadily grown but the external and internal factors of others have out paced them.

    Native Hawaiian and Pacific Islander is a significant part of the whole faith of the Church, and the state of Utah

1970     N/A

 

1990     N/A

 

2000     0.9 percent 

2010     0.9 percent 

    While that number, 0.9, seems low and even lower than the other minorities listed in Utah as of 2010, the Hawaiian and Polynesian have has a big influence on the Church of Jesus Christ as far as those that have converted in the islands of the South Pacific and those that have immigrated here, mostly to Western states and urban areas. It will be interesting to see what the 2020 census will bring.

    The "Other" race is very interesting as of late in the world altogether, which is substantial; except for the Latino or Hispanic count of 13 percent of recent times (estimated 2019 for Utah), a significant number of Utahns are counted as "Other". Does this mean Arabs, Indians, Persians, or some other combination of people who do not identify with the common labels? Could it be people who do not want to identify with anything?

Other race:

1970     0.2 percent

 

1990     2.2 percent

2000     4.2 percent

2010     6.0 percent

    Mixed race comes last, but not least, which is a newer but perhaps very accurate way of counting people. The United States has become a melting pot to so many people of mixed ancestry; it has occurred around the globe increasingly. Is Tiger Woods only African-American ? No. Is Barach Obama only Black? No. Me, being of white ethnic background, American, do not wish to proclaim upon others what their identity is or has to be, if there are fixed rules, but those who acknowledge their mixed-race heritage deserve every right to do so. We are not monolithic in our ethnic heritages.

1970      N/A

1990      N/A

2000      2.1 percent

2010      2.7 percent

    This trend will continue to grow as time goes on. People of different cultures, religions, nationalities, and races will continue to match up and marry. Their children will increasingly be more diverse and mixed: not only white, or Black, or Asian, etcetera.

Summary

    While some visiting comedians and others around the country and world, even to include native Utahns, may continue to cast Utah as "lily white" (a description that has somewhat bothered or at times offended me over the years, for any white dominated population, or a even a pale complected person), hopefully we can see from the data that Utah is currently diverse and is trending to be more so. 

    The percentage of Church of Jesus Christ members is lower than ever, while the population in Utah is higher than ever, with around 60 percent Latter-day Saints, which means about forty percent of Utah is non-Mormon, not members or affiliated with the majority religion. There are parts of Salt Lake City where the majority religion is the minority. Also, of note, within the 60 percent membership in Utah,  approximately a third of them that do not follow or tithe in the faith actively. Many of them participate in "normal" worldly activities that the Church advocates against, like smoking, drinking, and other pursuits that active or proscribed Latter-day Saints do not follow. That includes Sunday activity in purchasing and recreation. Although, not to be dismissed, there are plenty of active Mormons who participate in many of those things while very committed and active to the faith.

    The point of analyzing or scrutinizing this data is to show that while stereotypes and generalizations may be thrown around, there are obvious differences than what many would want us to believe. I wanted to understand the greater picture for myself and I was glad to look at it a little more in depth and comparison, and now have some more awareness.

    In 2020 it is safe to say that Utah is diverse racially and culturally and will continue to be so in the undetermined future.

Death of the Unknown Brother

It happened in Talca, I want to say. 

 

Chile is not a place in Latin America known for violence, but it happens. 

I lived there three times, for stretches of 22 months, 4 months, and 6 months. In my first visit to this Mediterranean climate, beauteous land sandwiched between the ocean and the snow topped mountains, I knew of the most acts of violence compared to the other two, which in sheer amount of time and exposure makes sense. But the acts were deadly assaults, which make or made little sense to me.

 

The first two happened in Concepcion, a city where my mission was based and where I served for half a year. Two young men that were in my social circles were knifed to death. Well, one of them, the one I met and spoke to, was hunted down and savagely beaten, the story goes. Possibly worse than just a knife that took him. A church brother that I knew tried to stop it, but to no avail. This young man lived in a poor area of the city that I visited a few times. Not my ward that I was assigned to as a church missionary, but walking distance from my sector. I went there more the month that I was made a district leader and able to conduct baptismal interviews for the missionaries there.

Two young men cut down in the the youthful prime of their lives. No pun meant. One was a member of my faith; he had a sister serving a full time mission like me. The other was a brother of one of my associations through church. So sorry to hear, when I found out a few months after moving from the city on the big river, up stream to the tranquil little town resting on the same huge flow of water.

Two young men died in Santa Juana while I was there, too, but there in a peaceful town their fate was the river itself. It was  not the cruel fate of some killer in human form but nature and chance, or happenstance itself.

I might have been living in Santa Juana, or maybe a few months later in Angol when I heard of the brutal death of the brother, an older man maybe in his forties or fifties, in Talca.

I never have spent time in Talca, a good sized city for the country. I sped through in buses a few times, but I do not know the place. Maybe once had a bus stop there.

I spoke with a few younger Chilean men who knew him and looked up to him. They were mystified and crushed. Perhaps the death of the unknown brother, (his name may have been Juan, or Pedro, or Mario, or Marcelo, I am not sure...), was a blow to their good faith and confidence in life.

He was a strong member of the faith, our newfound religion in a Catholic country, a man who was physically strong and spiritually endowed with power.

Killed in the street, not sure why.

Could the motive have been money, in a robbery? Sure, people are hungry and forlorned, scorned in a society of haves and have nots. Chileans see the U.S. and other countries and many of them feel jilted when it comes to money, opportunity, wealth. In this case it might have been an overzealous robbery gone bad, or simply played out in tragedy. Guys with money sometimes deserve to be robbed, some would argue.

Or, was it pure malice? Was it an act of drunken stupor, or psychotic hate?

Random, random... 

Where was God to save this man? those of little faith proclaim...

I think some Chileans may have lost a lot of faith with his senseless death. 1991. Summer, it was. Maybe January, I cannot recall with clarity.

 

But, having observed quite a few Chileans before and since, many have lost their faith in other ways and for other reasons. Not all due to poverty, but that is possibly the chief reason that many do. Hard to say.

 

Justice. Fairness. All those issue become complaints. Many legitimate, for sure.

 

Why does God favor some above others? Marx has his ideas... No God above there. Only the power of work and humanity.

Can there be a God, all-knowing, all-loving, and if so: why am I (we) cursed with this lot?

Death and torture have happen unabounded a few times in their history.

People lose their faith in God, man, government, religion, business, politics, their spouses, all manner of things, including themselves, maybe their communities, or neighbors, or police or judges, all the time. 

Some Chileans, mostly those who knew him, seemed to have lost a big chunk of their faith upon recognizing his death. I am not sure how many. Could more have been more inspired in the wake of his death? Possibly? I cannot tell, there is so much we do not know.

But, I simply wanted to raise the memory of an unknown man, known to quite a few in one corner of the world, but spread the word that he existed, was loved, and like many of us, made a large impression and made the world a better place for his life, his way of living it.

Gracias, hermano.

Thanks for living the way you did, and may your ignominious death not detract from or erase the memory and significance of your goodness and impact.

I did not know you directly, but indirectly I knew you, and I recognize worth and impact.

For me, an American, a guy born middle class in the the Middle West, a boy favored with opportunities to live, choose, grow, work, operate as he chose in a neighborhood where we left doors of vehicles and homes unlocked for long hours, including nights, where we did not fear robbers or thieves, guns or knives.

Nevertheless, we all die sometime, through violence, at times, through sickness, more often, through so many ways.

But we are all counted.

I count you, dear unknown brother; we will light candles and regale your memories in countless ways.

This is one.

New York, New York

I have written about New York City before. Hopefully you and I will have access to those recordings and peruse any of those meanderings other than this one, me on Gotham City. A city, a place like the one I wish to discuss is worth multiple analyses and assessments. Not like my perspective is the one to go to, per se, but for what it is worth.

New York City can make me excited and nauseated at the same time.

We all know that it is a massive city; that may go without saying (as my kids yell: Dad, you said it!). We all know that it has huge high rises and tourist attractions, that a lot of money goes through the city. Many famous celebrities and stars live there, that is part of its charm and attraction, its pull and allure.

 

I have been there a number of times personally, starting in the 1980s, continuing in the 1990s, and now a few times in the 21st century. I have been there less the last 20 years, since 9/11/2001, admittedly. Some of that has to do with starting a family and having expenses other than going to this city, which can cost too much. My daughters have blown a few dollars in the city more recently, to include the younger one witnessing a naked Iron Man in Times Square. Yeah, marvelous.

 

Sure, indecency can be part of this city, like many others, but that is not the only nauseating aspect of it. The sheer size and vastness of it, including the humanity, can make your head and stomach turn. The greed of the big money, or the seeming insouciance of morality or immorality of some of Broadway, or off Broadway, or off off Broadway... Or the other corruption that is known to walk its streets and plumb its depths, to include Wall Street. We are all affected by Wall Street investors and the rest: have you heard of 401K or Social Security? Yeah, those.

We all, assuming we watch film, television, and social media, have seen plenty of footage of New York City, the Big Apple. I grew up seeing King Kong jump on the Empire State Building, and fight airplanes, long before two planes crashed into taller twin skyscrapers decades later. I also saw the remake (maybe first?), with Jessica Lang, and that leaves an impression. From one of my kid magazines I had a fold out of King Kong on the then tallest building in the world in 3-D. They even supplied the paper fold out glasses. Of course, movies were numerous: Miracle on 34th Street, An Affair to Remember, Escape from New York, The Warriors (talk about scary and nauseating), and many others, some iconic, some forgettable. How about one of the best musicals of all time, based on Shakespeare, West Side Story? Or Annie, in Hooverville? (A little bit like Whoville?). Was Cats a New York thing? Had to be. Broadway and dance and comedy, big money and high finance, crime, passion... I left out Woody Allen, who typifies or sensationalizes the city.

Superheroes: what is Gotham, after all? Or even Superman at the Daily Planet... More recently we have the X-Men and Avengers.

All these characters, images, songs, books, newspapers, heroes, legends, crime bosses, gangs, love stories, miracles, terrorists (Denzel did a terrorist film in NYC before 9/11), parks and comedies (Friends, Seinfeld, A Family Affair (also known as Buffy and Jody), the Honeymooners, I Love Lucy, All in the Family, Welcome Back, Kotter, and a few more we watched unendingly, quoting all the time amongst ourselves.

Yeah, NYC, little Annie! We keep going back. Its got magnetism, its got a central locus of our attention, for so many reasons.

I have watched my share of sports related to New York, in basketball, football, baseball. Now Brooklyn has its own ball team, what do you know? California took a few Dodgers and things back after World War II, but the City that Never Sleeps has not gone away when it comes to sports teams and thrills.

Osama bin Laden, in some ways you made this city bigger than ever. Target the Big Apple and watch out! It just may be bigger, stronger than you realize.

Merry Christmas, New York City! To you, Rudy Giuliani, Donald Trump, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, former mayors and other would-be New York politicians of the past (the Roosevelts come to mind); to my old neighbors growing up next door, the Joneses. Bob and Kate, who hailed from Yonkers, an aptly named suburb of a wacky metropolis.

Like back in September, 2001: we are all New Yorkers!

 

Some favorite memories:

 

1. 1987 or so - Going to Grand Central Station by train with my mom and sister, and aunt, staying close to the Empire State Building, where we scaled it, taking taxis, eating at restaurants, some Italian, seeing a TV celebrity in the streets, Soupy Sales, taking the ferry across the bay, taking in the town for the first time, attending a Manhattan ward for church, walking Central Park ...

 

2. 1989 - Laying over in JFK Airport while en route to Europe. I think I saw and smelled a few things; I probably heard a few people tawk their tawk. Kind of like cawfee tawk. Kind of like my folks from Boston, but deepah, and moh New Yawk...

 

2. 1994 - Flying into La Guardia right before New Year's midway in the 1990s, buying a Jerry Rivera CD, with awesome Caribbean-New Yorquino tunes, eating at the Hard Rock Cafe with siblings and step siblings, watching the Christmas program of the Rockettes at where? Carnegie Hall? Hanging out with both sisters, and the husband, who both lived in the city, visiting the skyscraper of Credit Suisse First Boston, where the big money earners stroll their stuff and wear their high powered investment and consultant suits. Being in the city when the Apple fell on the New Year.

3. 1995, June --Flying en route to the Middle East through JFK, hanging in the airport with a few fellow students of the program, like Matt Romney (son of Mitt, who was famous back then for running against Edward Ted Kennedy, little brother of the guy that the airport was named after). He and I overheard some nearby passengers discussing something as a family at a cafe table. He thought it was Italian, I thought it was Portuguese. He may have been right, knowing fluent French and me Spanish.

4. 1995, August --Hanging out with my sister and husband and their baby Amanda, at their 96th street high rise dinky apartment, but that still had a doorman. Getting used to a doorman is a funny thing. How many work in Manhattan? Two thousand? More? Throw in security, and you got thousands...

I played round ball with some players from Harlem; they were not nearly Globetrotters (I was, more like it, I had just been in Israel, Palestine, and Egypt); but that was cool. We went up the World Trade Center, and took in the tremendous view going north through midtown and on forever, in every direction. Ah, the humanity! I left that time via a company car (of my brother-in-law's firm) to La Guardia.

5. 1997 --taking the train back down from Boston with the same sister and bro-in-law and babysitting their baby while the new Harvard business graduate was doing his interviews in the posh midtown corporate area. I later sat in the restaurant of the luxury hotel that the prospective business afforded to us; I ate in their first floor dining area, ordered a fancy Chilean bass (on their dime!), and listened to an older couple speak Yiddish next to me. Ah, I loved it! Yiddish in New York with a delicasy seasoned fish from a country where I had lived with a few privations in South America.

 

The life, I tell ya.

1998 -- I walked to the Bronx to see the Yankees play. My favorite player was with them. But they had no memorabilia of his at the sports store across the street! Ingrates... New Yorkers have some hubris, I find. And I think Raines was hurt, did not play that afternoon...

 

I was given a short tour of Columbia University; I attended the singles ward with a bunch of raging singles, me being one of the foremost. I met a funny, loud, vivacious young lady who served her mission in Chile. We dined at a Chilean restaurant, ordering traditional dishes like empanadas and and few other treats. Porotos con riendas? Maybe.

6. 1999 --Driving to the outskirts of New Jersey, learning how they do the gas fill up for you (modern state taxes meet the 1950s); driving into Manhattan in my relatively new car, overshooting Manhattan twice and winding up in Brooklyn, because there is no left on Canal Street going north! I almost got busted in Brooklyn for intruding onto a crime scene, but that is another story.

Staying overnight at the little apartment of my future wedding best man, a friend from childhood, the brother of the Harvard graduate. Parking was a trying adventure, I tell you something. Parking in Manhattan is a science, an art, a game for no weak hearted panzies, and a crap shoot. Mazeltov! Oy ve, meine lieben!

 

Driving a Utah cousin to the New Jersey side to see Lady Liberty and Ellis Island. It was pleasant and serene. The cousin (not mine), was quiet and not much to talk to. But nice. I spoke with a New Jersey guy who looked across the water to Manhattan, longing to live there one day. I spoke to Colombians doing part of their American pilgrimage or homage to the country, the world.

Lady Liberty. They have not brought it down yet.

 

2002, July -- Flying into Newark Airport, New Jersey, across the Hudson from downtown. Seeing the absence of the Twin Towers with my own eyes, beyond the voices over radio and images on screen. Seeing the absence of those two great mirroring symbols of our greatness and prosperity, no longer smoking (I think?); but some of us had fires awoken in us that would not be erased.

You strike at New York, at our people and system, you have attacked every one of us. That day between the City and DC and Pennsylvania you might have killed a few hundred or two hundred thousand. You tried the hardest you could.

2009 -- I drove my family in the minivan, the wife and four kids went to the Jersey side where we toured the statue on Liberty Island. I watched little Kaleel scramble around on the grounds, which I think is a giant star, while Jen and the three elders traipsed up the world famous monument, a 19th century gift from France. We did not make it to the island until later...

2014 -- On our way up to Massachusetts to see family of my recently passed mother, we went into Manhattan, stopped and hung out in Central Park, seeing some sights. We drove by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints Temple, the same location where I had attended with family and friends in 1987 and 1999. Wait.. I went in 1998 and 1999... In '98 with my Chevy Spectrum, not going into the city, and in '99 boldly driving around arousing the suspicions of all law enforcement on their toes.

That is New York! Police thinking on their feet, or in their street booths, or on their horses. Looking for strangers like a weird guy driving around the city looking for lefts on Canal Street going north, or that one cheaper gas price, which was all along back in Jersey on the other side of the Holland Tunnel... Yeah, that one cop was leering at me for a real reason. Circling around, eyeing all the gasolinerias (Latinos have populated the place, it would seem). And the guy in Brooklyn had his reasons to be mad, too...

We got great parking with our blue mini-van by the  still being finished Freedom Tower. We walked around the deep fountains of ground zero, looking at the many names of the victims, most on that day, a sunny Tuesday, but others would die later from the chemical mess, and of course the subsequent wars. We are still fighting those that perpetrated that act. Cowardly, brave, audacious, mind bending. They got some of what they wanted, and now the struggle is on to win the hearts and minds.

(Still in 2020, as we withdraw troops from Afghanistan and Iraq, and Somalia.

2018 -- The boys and I drove north to see a football game; we paid the arm and leg fee to cross the Washington bridge and deal with some traffic up there, after the trouble free Jersey Turn Pike. We were slowed down by terrible traffic leaving Washington DC, so we got there at the more reasonable hour of 10 pm. North of Washington Heights you see apartments and rivers and bridges and on and on. Far north of the real action, but still New York, the megalopolis. Even parts of Connecticut seem like the city, probably close to where David Letterman lived, or lives.

On the way back a long weekend later I got a little turned around in the Bronx, or possibly Queens, and while trying to direct us to with the help of the GPS to go to Staten Island, a borough I am largely unfamiliar with wanting to see, I got mixed up and crossed into Manhattan itself, from the east side.

We drove around downtown, Wall Street, the Freedom Tower, watching the New Yorkers and tourists cross their walks and buy and sell and move their wares. There was a balloon fake version of Spider Man hanging from a building. We heard the news on the van radio that Stan Lee had just died. I told my sons to remember where they were when we heard the news. They do, they will. I most certainly will always remember that. We missed Staten Island and continued on home, some five hours away.

2019 --We went up north to see the same football team again the next year (last), but now in a larger vehicle.  With more people. And the price was exorbitant, larger prices to cross that part of town, even far from the center. Any part of town will cost you. Taxes. Death. New York City.

Budda bing is what the cash register says, not just  cha cha ching. Budda bing, boy.

On the way back we avoided the city altogether and did a little sight seeing in Scranton, PA, home of the Office. Plus a Latter-day Saint Church site, a restoration of the priesthood place, which is sacred to us. Different than NYC.

2020, August -- I got some Staten Island! The three of us did. Upon returning from a mostly bucolic trip to all the New England states, my sons and I made our way south to the biggest city, that of Gotham, which we had debated on whether engaging or not; they wanted the fastest route to our house possible, but I had my heart on a little land of Frank McCourt, an author and former teacher that I very much appreciate. My eldest son plotted in the 5th, and to me, the forgotten borough. We ended up going through a large length of Brooklyn, parts and places that I had never seen before, and even though while dark in the city night, we saw deeper into New York than ever before. It was somewhat thrilling and cool, I must say.

Unbeknownst to me, my son had not routed Staten Island into our route on the way home, another five hours drive; he had randomly centered our plot to Staten Island. And, that is where we went. The middle of the island, I guess. We saw a few things, nothing exceptional, but I got my wish. We did it, Mr. Teacher! We saw and even rolled down the windows and smelled some of Staten Island in the summer.

Summary of New York City

All of it, from Times Square to the rivers on both sides of the main thoroughfare of Manhattan, from the Harbors of Liberty and Brooklyn and the other boroughs, to the extended reaches of New Jersey and upstate New York and Connecticut, pushing west to Long Island and all of that mass of humanity; all of it becomes one huge, throbbing, miasma of people, money, cement, bricks, girders and beams, sparkling glass, black top, roofs and towers, rivers and boats, and a million vehicles of every type, a place that we are inspired by and scared by and that keeps beating as the heart of our nation and planet.

 

New York City is not the only place to find the good and bad of metropolises, it is not entirely unique in all it offers, and yet, there is only one Big Apple, there is only one place that I can say: Spiderman lives there. Stan Lee was formed by it. 'Nuff said. 

 

Our country is and nation are a big part of who we are because of it. Where we can dream to make it Carnegie Hall, big or small.

Where in our fantasies and dreams, we can be King of the Hill, Top of the Heap.

Best of the best.

So nice, they named it twice.

Cougars of Provo Win in Florida for First Time! First One Loss Season since 1996; Record Broken

 Ahhhh. The feelings of success, relief, and victory: triumph. And some vindication.

 

As shared before, I love college football. Perhaps many see it as an idle use of time, a waste of healthy, strong bodies towards a non-worthy effort... Is it too violent and damaging to other-wise well composed young men? Is it a waste of time and effort watching and following, compared to so many other worthwhile endeavors in the world, like serving the poor and educating the masses? Or even soccer, or tennis? Non-contact sports that usually do not break peoples' bones?

 

I feel like a part of the American id and ego need this. At least this American does. It is like chess, live and crazy. Fun. Injuries be darned.

 

Enough of the caveat, disclaimer, or mea culpa, back to last night...

 

Way to go, Cougs! The monkey is off your back in Florida. Finally!

 

Okay, sure, it wasn't a top team, but it was a top offense. You (we, I am an BYU alum) held the Knights to an ineffective 23 total points. BYU led at the half 35-10, 49-10 earlier in the third period, and at the end of the 3rd quarter 49-17. 

 

BYU could easily have broken their all time bowl scoring record of 52, but held off at the end and took a knee near the UCF goal line. The Cougar offense did break its all time yards gained (655), and could have have gained quite a few more. 400 yards at the half. A few broken up drives near the end of the game. A fourth down short advancement and one punt.

This was fun.

One article lists the opponents in Florida that BYU had heretofore lost to in the following paragraph:

 

"The Cougars have spent school history enduring futile trips to the state of Florida, losing to Florida State, Oklahoma State (twice), Miami, Memphis, South Florida, and about anybody else they tried to line up against."

( https://universe.byu.edu/2020/12/22/byu-football-ends-magical-season-with-49-23-win-over-ucf-in-boca-raton-bowl/)

 

I think that BYU also lost to Ohio State in a squeaker around 1986, too. The two losses to Oklahoma State would indicate bowl losses in the state of  Florida back to the 1970s. So this is vindication and compensation for ground not gained since the earliest days of the upsurging from the middle of the Inter-Mountain West church school, a college football phenomenon as there is a new school on the radar at least every decade. 

 

Schools, states, alumni crave this: relevance. My school matters. The principles of my institution have import. My education was accompanied by men and women of energy and enthusiasm.

 

In the 1940s it was the Catholic school eponymous Notre Dame, and of course Army, and the state school in the middle of no where Oklahoma. It was the University of Southern California, and maybe the other Western newcomers Oregon and Washington, versus the old traditional powers of the East, Syracuse or Penn State, the Mid-West with Michigan and Ohio State, and Wisconsin and Nebraska, or the deep South of Alabama and its neighbors, and of course culturally rich football giant Texas.

 

Major college football evolves and each new power adds to the social and geographic wonder of our country, our society. Is it a religious school like Southern Methodist, or Texas Christian, or a new secular power like Boise State or Appalachian State, or a service Academy in Navy and Air Force, or an academic power house with Northwestern or Standford? Is a private institution, catered to the pros, like Miami U., the new model of college success? Where do our values lie?

State, church, private, academic: they all are thrown into the fire through these coaches and young men, close to warrior, due to the physical duress endured.

Brigham Young, flagship of the oft mocked and sometimes controversially aligned Brigham Young University, was and still is a new kid on the block.

And last night was glorious for all those reasons.

Go Cougars. The past, present, and future look bright.

Thank you, college football, Coach Sitaki, and BYU admin and fans for making this year and all the other years happen. Especially during a deadly pandemic when hopes ran low.

Even my old home teacher Tom Bell, who played for the BYU Cougars and lost to my beloved Indiana Hoosiers in a crazy Holiday Bowl in 1979,  upon seeing all my Hoosier regalia in my Ashburn apartment in 2006 exclaimed: "You are not a BYU fan!"

 

Yes, Tom, I bleed BYU blue. And I am a fan of the Cougars, not just because they came out champs this year.

 

BYU is my football team. Win or lose, I am sticking with the Honor Code and the Cougar football team. 

Football means a lot more to some of us because of the causes of the school, its leadership, and its dedicated players.

Tradition. Spirit. Honor.  

Keep it up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

BYU Football Retrospective on Bowl Games, 2020

BYU Football Retrospective on Bowl Games

There is a big one tonight against UCF (Central Florida), a decent 6-3 (pandemic) team that has lost its 3 games to good opponents by a combined 12 points. Brigham Young was hoping to stay undefeated (historic loss at Coastal Carolina on two day's notice cost them!) but this win tonight would keep them pretty highly rated, would bolster talk of their national worthiness all season despite a weakened re-aligned schedule, and would be their first win ever in the state of Florida. They are 0-8 or 0-9 in the Sunshine State going back to the 1980s.

 

Also, despite LaVell Edwards bringing national acclaim and glory to the Church school's program, he did not have a very good record in bowl games(7-14 over an almost 30 year career). His three consecutive successors have had mixed results: Crowton doing awful because he could not even get them to the game most of his tenure (0-1 in four years?), Mendenhall raised the bar on consistency and success rate (7-5) in the post-regular season games, and now Sitake is sitting on the fence (2-1 in four years till now). 

This is a big deal. The pride and the reputation of the talent of this club, all those national and regional pundits and fans proclaiming that the Y squad passes the "eye test".

Must. Get. It. Done.

Cougars versus Knights.

Make it happen!

Bette Anderson, 94

A good friend of the family just passed away a few days ago (Dec. 17, 2020); I read it in the obituary section online of the  Hoosier Times, based in my hometown, Bloomington, Indiana. I have not seen or spoke to her in years. She suffered from dementia or Alzheimer's, and most likely would not remember me as she was the last 10 or so years. I am not sure if Bette had COVID-19 or not. She lived a good, long, life. Six children and multiple grand and great-grand children that I know of.

Bette was a good friend of my mother's, who passed away in 2014 at age 73. It is going on seven years since my mom died (she would be 80 now); the chapters of my mother's life that are living go on through me her son, her daughters, her former husbands and her older siblings and my cousins, her surviving nieces and nephews, and the friends and associations accrued over time.

Bette is another chapter in my mom's life now altered, now relegated to some data points, and random stories, some pictures and micro-fiche converted to digital histories. Now stowed haphazardly in the memories of those that survived and recalled things related to her.

I recall Sister Anderson from my earliest childhood memories. Church attendance, personal home visits, conversations between her and my mom as I sat or lounged nearby. Bette had a son who was troubled, and grandson who also had some issues. I also learned that Bette had one of her twin daughters precede her in death by many years. She is survived and beloved by many, and I am sorry that during this pandemic more people could not celebrate her life.

Life is not all peachy, not a bowl full of cherries, nor any other fruit-based metaphor you can think of. Southern Indiana is not the land of milk and honey, but it was home to Bette and those that knew her, like me. I feel part of that down home past and present, and seeing her go reminds me of the past and present that we may reflect on but never quite grasp, never quite attain but enetertain in pure emotions, memories, and thoughts.

Perhaps a blog entry.

 

A small anecdote related to Bette, for which I am thankful. 

 

When I joined the military in the spring of 2007 it was bittersweet to go away to isolated Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, while my wife and small children had to be left behind. The good part was that they spent two months with my parents in Indiana while I was traipsing through California, Virginia, and southern Missouri. They spent time with family, while me the dad was far off. Our oldest daughter finished off her year of kindergarten there in Bloomington, attending close to my old middle school and church. My dad got to be an up close father figure surrogate, picking her up from the bus stop until her studies were interrupted by a tonsillectomy.

In the first week or so of Basic Training, they put us in barracks housing called Reception. It is a bit of a limbo while taking care of paperwork, obtaining some gear and limited training, and passing those wonderful medical checks and vaccinations. At one point they take a picture of us, a close up with us in our newly issued uniform and patrol cap.

I am not sure if we individual soldiers choose how many copies will be produced and paid for, but I received a few and passed them through the mail back to Indiana. My mom shared one with Bette Anderson, who posted my photo in her small country house, which was prominent due to the size of the print. When my mother, my wife, and eldest daughter went on a visit to Bette's, who lived some 10-15 miles from town, my kindergarten girl who had not seen me in weeks or perhaps over a month remarked,"Wow! Dad is kind of famous!"

Thanks Bette, for being a kind friend through the years and being a true Christian, a Latter-day Saint, and a shoulder to cry on.

We love you and miss you; you are part the saga of my mother, my roots, and the way things are and have been for generations. We mark your passing with appreciation and gratitude.

I cannot tell all your story, but it is a special one indeed, to be recounted and eulogized in the generations to come. You are re-united with all your loved ones, and I am sure my mom has a specially saved hug for you and your new found presence with God above.

Thanks for living a long, good, decent life. May we all be so blessed, as we have all been blessed by your presence in our lives.

 

 

Purdue Football Games, the last 40 or so Years: An Indiana Thing

We lost it due to the global pandemic! They postponed the game last Saturday December 12, re-scheduled it, and now it has been cancelled tonight, December 18. Fooey!

 2020: the year of Cancel Culture. Ha, football gods' irony!

Check. Cancelled. 100 years of mostly bitter rivalry, ended for the cold season.

This is a great and terrible year for IU football fans. Must be mostly terrible for Purdue.

Ha! Ha! Ha. Poor babies.

So, after 100 years of continual play, we will wait for the end of 2021. Another 11 or more months to go.

To pulverize the Boilermakers

Despite the pandemic and many hand wringing and heart aches about the college football season, Indiana in seven short games has beaten: Penn State, Michigan, Michigan State, and ... another formidable team. We lost to Ohio State, supreme Big Ten champs, but we also handled Rutgers, and Maryland. As we should. In the last 5-6 years Indiana beating those two new add-ons are huge to being a relevant team, making it to a bowl.

Right now Indiana is looking elite. Even without our first string starter QB Michael Penix. The back up is enough. Oh, yeah! Wisconsin! We held the Badgers to 6 points with back up starting QB.

Yes. The Hoosiers were looking good. We got lucky with Penn State, admittedly, but the rest have been for real. OSU ran too much on us, otherwise, we may have upset them. And we could not run on them. Buckeyes. They are good.

But the Hoosiers are top 10 good, too.

Thus the missed game with Purdue is tough. PU has over 70 all-time instate wins, while IU is only in the 40s... We have ground to catch up. Next year.

Some great games of the past:

1981: It was freezing and I went to the game in Bloomington with Paul Lowengrub and his dad. I played on the grass hill a lot, and I was so cold! We beat the Boilers barely; I watched crazed Hoosiers tear down the goal posts. I also watched a policeman beat some dudes with batons, I think. Great times.

After streaming out into the wintry parking lot with the knot hole (end zone) crowd, where I saw the identical twin of the student teacher in 4th grade that I had a crush on, a bitter Purdue guy was eating his sour grapes, and yelling to the world: "You still suck, Hoosiers! You are 3 and 8! IU is still only going to the toilet bowl!"

We finished  3-8 that year (only 3 wins), but one of those three was that day, over the arch rival nemesis, for the Old Oaken Bucket. Final score: 20-17. The Crimson and Cream over the Pur- who? Boilers!

I love me some bitter Boilers. It was worth the freezing fingers and limbs.

Vince Lombardi famously said that winning wasn't everything: it was the only thing.

Growing up in B-town we know that winning is not always the Lombardi way. There has to be losses to really enjoy the victories. We know there is beauty in the losses, too. But sometimes Vince shines his winning ways on the Indiana Hoosiers.

1986: 

The Rod Woodson Show. Ugh. The Boilermakers beat us because of one guy. The Hoosiers had gotten pretty good under third year coach Bill Mallory, and we had beaten some good teams. 

1987 and 1988  Back to back high scoring blow outs by the Hoosiers, now with Coach Bill Mallory groomed recruits and super star Heisman  contender running back Anthony Thompson was a nice way to celebrate my middle years of high school. The IU Coach's son, Curt, played for my high school and he was a solid guy. Hoosiers beat Michigan and Ohio State, and putting a lot of points on the board, 35 followed by an impressive 52, was music to a Hoosier fan's ears. I would work concessions at a few of these home games, too.

1991 Newly returned from my South American mission, my dad had purchased tickets to three games for IU football, accidentally two of them away at Iowa and Ohio State. We went anyway and had a good time, even though we lost. Purdue, on the other hand, when I invited young friend Michael Ho to go to this home game across campus. We held on to win a close one and Mallory was still a keeper. Good season, much better than two years before when Anthony Thompson lost a close Heisman as a senior we lost to Purdue by one point...

1993 I had moved away from the Hoosier State to be closer to another football love (BYU), but the Hoosiers were ranked and beat Purdue by a  touchdown. Little did we know the bowls would start locking down for IU after upsurging Virginia Tech would lock down the Hoosiers a short month later. Worse than the bowl game that was not competitive to an up and rising program in the Appalachian Mountains of the central East Coast... But we did not know that it would be many years that IU would return to a bowl... Mallory lost his mojo, or at least on paper and the admin, supporters, and fans fell out of love. Things got bad after this for a while, with only occasional Purdue wins, and the seasons did not mean as much since the overall team was down.

2001 Despite the losing seasons that followed Mallory, Coach Cam Cameron (a former basketball player who was chosen in part to appeal to IU's stalwart hard court fans, which were legion in the days of Bobby Knight, we had Antwaun Randle El at quarterback, who was incredibly entertaining to watch. While never making it to a bowl and getting over the hump in his four seasons, we did manage to beat Purdue his senior year in 2001. The previous Boilermaker teams were ranked with the legendary Drew Brees and the formidable coach Joe Tiller. It was a low scoring affair, IU 13, PU 7.

2007 A magical season in the wake of the death of the inspirational Coach Terry Hoeppner. They finally made it back to a bowl after more than an anguishing decade and years into the new century, but at the cost of losing a beloved mentor to brain cancer. "Win seven for Coach Hep" was the mantra, and spoken loudly by his widow and many others. A memorable and poignant last second field goal was true, and the seventh win brought them some solace and glory, that the spirit of Terry lived on. The Hoosiers defended the Rock that he established on the end zone of the field: IU wins with smiles and tears, 27-24.

2013-2016 Things started getting interesting by the time Kevin Wilson came along. The offense was looking to move the ball quickly and dynamically. Indiana beat Purdue four years in a row, and Tiller was history after a good run there in West Lafayette. IU looked to win these games, and a few times the last game would send them or keep them from a bowl season match up, the modern definition of winning or losing.

2019 After a two year slip that cost IU post season chances, the Fighting Hoosiers made it back with this over time win. Fighting off capable Purdue QBs and formidable foes like the amazing Rondale Moore and the juggernaut Nick Horvath, Indiana secured a respectable bowl game with a tantalizing and impressive 8 win season. They lost to Tennessee in Jacksonville last January, but this last season and Old Bucket so affected by the world wide pandemic meant that Indiana keeps the trophy another year, and Indiana is sitting on a sweet record while Purdue will end up in the toilet bowl, as that fan remarked almost four decades ago.

There have been other slights hurled at me personally and towards Indiana loyalists by Purdue fans over the years, but now we seem to have the upper hand, and maybe we can catch up to their victories all time within the century.

Hope bounds eternal in the Bucket games.

See you next year, Boilers.

Win or lose, we pray that time will get back to normal.