Our Yellowstone Trip - Prelude: Handcart Days

The Quads in front of the Yukon and trailer on Friday afternoon, prior to leaving for Yellowstone

The five younger kids, Mark and I got back on Wednesday from a five-day trip that took us to Yellowstone National Park, Teton National Park and, on the way home, Jackson, Wyoming.

The odyssey started on Friday morning when I picked up the Yukon we had rented for the trip.  I mistakenly thought there would be enough room in the back for all our gear, so after some discussion back and forth, we decided to rent a small trailer to carry all our stuff, and it worked out perfectly.  Three coolers, two large plastic buckets of food and linens to use at the cabin, as well as three sleeping bags, two suitcases and three duffle bags!

I then drove up to Bountiful to pick up the Quads, then took them to the Bountiful City Park, where "Handcart Days" were in full swing.  For those who are not familiar with this celebration, July 24th is Pioneer Day in Utah, commemorating the arrival of the advance party of Mormon pioneers in the Salt Lake Valley on 24 July 1847.  This is a big holiday here, and Bountiful has, for many years, had its own celebration around the same time, called "Handcart Days" - a reference to the immigrants to Utah who crossed the plains with all their worldly possessions on a handcart that was pulled behind them.

For a number of years, I/we have taken the kids to the Bountiful City Park because they have carnival rides and other games for the children.  

Levi climbing the "rock wall."

Esther taking her turn

Later that afternoon, we tried to find a place from which to watch the Handcart Days Parade, which started at 6:00.  Parades are really big in Utah.  I used to be in the evening Corn Day Parade back in Carmi, Illinois, when I was in junior high and high school band.   I also helped my little sister march in the morning pet parade (see below).  But I honestly cannot recall attending a parade any time after high school until the time we moved to Utah.

Me, Martha and Kelly our dachshund, Fall 1969

My first experience with a Utah parade was the Centerville Fourth of July parade in 1997.  This is when I was first introduced to the Utah custom of staking out a position on the parade route with lawn chairs, blankets, ropes, etc., well before the start of the parade.  I later witnessed the same thing in Bountiful, which got to be such a competition that people started staking out positions at least two days before the parade.  The City finally had to adopt an ordinance which prohibited this practice prior to 6:00 the morning of the parade.

Then there was the candy that was thrown from floats, causing kids to rush out into the street, scrambling to collect as much as they could.  At first, I thought this was fun, but it got to the point where I found the practice demeaning of my children.

Then there were the huge squirt guns fired into the crowd, which Centerville City finally had to ban.

Then there was the overly-showy displays of "patriotism."  It seemed to me that people were in a competition to see who could stand up first when the color guard was at least a block away.  This and other practices were very foreign to me.  Before moving to Canada, I considered myself just as patriotic as the next person, if not more so.  Then, when I lived in Canada, I was exposed to a restrained and more dignified patriotism:  Canadians are just as proud of and devoted to their country as Americans, but they express their sentiments in a more restrained, private and dignified manner.

When we moved to Utah, I became increasingly disturbed as the years progressed at the "nazi patriotism" that is evidenced here by many people.  People make a show of their patriotism, not - or so it seemed to me - out of genuine love for their country, but out of an ingrained sense that they not only had to demonstrate their patriotism for others to see, but consciously or unconsciously enter into a competition to be more patriotic than then next person.  

The other factor, of course, is that this overt, over-the-top patriotism goes hand in hand with the Mormon culture here, which breeds a very conservative political philosophy and treats patriotism almost like a tenet of their faith.  This was evidenced in countless ways on countless occasions.  It got to the point where I was just disgusted by it all and refused, for example, to put my hand over my heart when color guards passed at Cub Scout and Boy Scout events (held at our LDS ward building) or in parades.

The Quads at Bountiful City Park

But I digress ... but only slightly.

The kids and I had an extremely difficult time finding a place from which to watch the parade.  It seemed that every square inch of the street was already claimed.  But we finally found a spot that would give us a "second tier" but nevertheless reasonably good view of the parade. 

One of the main reasons why I took the kids to the parade is that two of my sons were planning to march in a contingent of "Helaman's Stripling Warriors," - a reference to a group of some 2000 young men that formed an army in the Book of Mormon.  A stake president in Bountiful - which I suspected was my old president and was later confirmed in this view - had decided it would be really cool to try to gather 2000 young Mormon men to dress up and be Helaman's Stripling Warriors.  He managed to get the other stake presidents in Bountiful and surrounding communities to sign on (no doubt with the imprimatur of someone at Church headquarters).

This would have been ok with me, but I started reading comments in various places on the internet about the preparation for this march.  One friend wrote that his son, in another Bountiful stake, was being pressured to sign a "contract" whereby he agreed to march.  I mean, I understand the need for commitment, but this was over the top.  

Nathan, my younger teenage son, was ambivalent about the parade.  He was going to march, then he wasn't.  I was supportive of whichever decision he made.  But he ended up calling me late Friday afternoon and told me that he wouldn't be in the parade.  He was obviously upset.  I later found out that a former bishop of our ward had paid him a visit at the house that day to try to talk him into going.  This is one of the things that I always strongly disliked about the Mormon Church:  it preaches "free agency," yet tries to force people to do their bidding, particularly the youth.  

In this regard, I was reminded of the editorial that had run a few weeks ago in the Provo newspaper about how people living in the vicinity of the Missionary Training Center (in Provo) were "invited" by ecclesiastical leaders (beginning with an apostle) to cease their opposition to the construction of a nine-story building on the campus of the MTC and "fall into line."  They did so.  See here.

My kids know that one of my very favorite quotes of all time is one of Thomas Jefferson, one of several inscribed in the Jefferson Memorial in Washington:

As my dad would have quipped, "Enough said."

My older teenage son was going to be marching, however, and though I am estranged from him and he from me, I still wanted to see him.  But I waited in vain - and later found out that the "Warriors" were the very last entry in the parade.  It finally got to the point where the parade route was so crowded and the atmosphere so oppressive that the kids and I packed up and left.  I vowed that that would be my last parade (Pride parades excepted).

The Stripling Warriors on the march