Throughout his long tenure as a General Authority, David O. McKay was consistently opposed to Communism, as were his fellow General Authorities. Ironically, once he had become president of the Church, opposition to Communism became…
Last summer, while I was reading the Salt Lake Tribune, I stumbled across the obituary of a beautiful woman who looked uncannily like my older sister, Ann. That’s why I read her obituary. Only when I saw the list of Lisa McPhie’s survivors did I realize she was Lisa Lundberg, who had grown up with me on a quiet tree-lined street in Salt Lake City. Her older sisters were my best friends in junior high school. We were inseparable then. Thirty years later, Lisa, who watched our teenage escapades with a hint of boredom, was dead of a rare blood disorder that had defied diagnosis since she first became ill in 1985.
John-Charles Duffy, Unhealthy Rhetoric
Robert A. Rees, Response to Tobler
Lori Levinson, A Final Thank You
Neal Chandler, Correction
Bernard DeVoto gave an impromptu lecture about the process of writing nonfiction at the 1955 Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference. Conference Director Theodore Morrison described the lecture as “an exacting intellectual test for his audience. .…
Elder Jeff Lee Johnson came home on January 24 at 2:14 in the afternoon. The plane had made its way north all that day, stopping in Miami, then Atlanta before finally arriving six minutes ahead…
The death of a loved one may evoke anguish, regret, confusion, anger, shock, bitterness, despair, relief, gratitude, nostalgia, even joy. But the death of my friend Bonnie evoked in me, both on that Friday morning…
From that first dark day
the Khmer Rouge,
a scourge of scarlet locusts,
Each spring the Christian world celebrates the most important week in history—Passion Week or Holy Week, the time between Christ’s triumphant entry into Jerusalem and his atonement, death, and resurrection. Throughout the world the majority…
9/11. For seeming forever, a call for help. Since 2001 a blast of grief swallowed like debris from the heap of rubble and human remains on the streets of Manhattan, of the New York until…
At the Japanese American National Museum
a pile of small stones, most
no bigger than my thumb, each
with a single kanji,