RSS

A humble request on behalf of the best teacher I’ve ever known

Karma

I realize that most readers of this blog are located outside of my Tooele County community, but I’d like you to read this post anyway, because it’s about one of the best teachers I’ve ever known.

Ask anybody to name their favorite school teacher and no matter how many years or miles separate them from that classroom– no matter what their current financial status or profession– a name will immediately come to mind.  It’s the one teacher that connected with them, the one who had their back when the chips were down.  The one who taught them stuff they may not recall now, but who instilled a sense of unforgettable wonder and love.

For many kids in Tooele County, that teacher is Miss Karma.  First, I’d like you to read an article I wrote about her for the Tooele Transcript Bulletin a couple years ago:

Planting Seeds: Rose Springs’ Karma Dale to be honored with a Huntsman Award for Excellence

“I am a strawberry, where do I grow—up above or down below?”

First grade teacher Karma Dale shows a picture of the fruit to her students, who sit, all ears, on a large alphabet rug in her Rose Springs Elementary classroom.  A smile fills her face as they exclaim in unison, “Up above!” and rise to their feet.

“I’ve got a perfect class,” the seasoned instructor beams in a tone as warm and sincere today as it’s been for the last 26 years.  “An absolutely perfect class!”

Dale, 57, will be honored as a recipient of the 2010 Huntsman Awards for Excellence in Education at a banquet in Salt Lake City this Friday.

“It was a total surprise,” Dale said of the announcement, which was made by Karen Huntsman during a surprise visit to her classroom last week.

But to her colleagues, the community of Stansbury Park, and hundreds of parents the county wide, Dale was a shoe-in for the prestigious award.  Her nomination—one of hundreds across the state—was initiated by two parents in March and was quickly supplemented by a thick stack of endorsements from parents and co-workers.

“There simply are not adequate superlatives to describe Miss Karma’s teaching or her impact on children,” wrote Rose Springs Principal Leon Jones in her nomination packet.

Dale can’t remember a time when she didn’t want to be a teacher.  She spent her childhood pretend-teaching her dolls in her Grantsville home.  Her inanimate pupils sufficiently instructed, she younger brother to read before his first grade year.

After graduating from Primary in her Latter Day Saint ward at age 12, she was immediately given a teaching role in the organization.  During her high school years, Dale’s uncle Levar Hansen, then Principal of Grantsville Elementary, often asked her to substitute teach.

“That’s when I knew for sure,” she said.

Dale earned an associate degree in early childhood development from Weber State University and opened a preschool in the Hansens’ basement.  Over the next 13 years, Karma’s Kiddie Korner occupied various Grantsville locations, and “Miss Karma” became a household name.

After finishing a 4-year degree at Utah State University, Dale added her distinctive brand of instruction to Tooele’s East Elementary, where she taught kindergarten for 20 years.  She spent another year teaching first grade at Northlake Elementary before moving to Rose Springs in 2005.  After 26 years in the public school system, she still cherishes her job.

“I love to teach—it’s my everything,” she said.  “It’s my life.”

Outside the classroom, Dale’s life hasn’t been easy.  At age 25, she suffered a crippling stroke and underwent the grueling process of relearning how to walk, talk, and write.

She’s raised four children of her own—mostly as a single mother, which has meant taking extra jobs to make ends meet.  She drives a ’94 Ford with one working door, which gets her to work every day “on a prayer.”

She says her teaching career is worth the sacrifice because it has allowed her to spend time with her kids.

“My hours matched their hours,” she said.  “I had to mow some extra lawns, but I wanted to be home when they were home.”

The same dedication is apparent in Dale’s classroom, where she says she strives toward simple goal: to spark a lifelong desire to learn.  Simple too is her approach: Love.

Those first few weeks  [at school] I don’t care how  much I teach them—I  want them to know how much I value them and how much I love them.  They need to feel secure.  I don’t think, until they have those feelings, that they can start to learn,” she explained.

Dale believes students do best as active participants in the learning process.  Learning, she says, is driven by curiosity and investigation.  A well-known “Karma-ism” sums it up: “Kids learn better on their feet than in their seat.”

“I want to make school a happy, fun place to be,” she said.  “Somewhere along the way we lose that magic.  We forget that learning can be fun.”

Dale is well-known for her creative methods, which include hands-on and active experiences like hobo picnics, hatching chickens, and observing a caterpillar’s metamorphosis to butterfly.  Students are challenged to read advanced sight words by “Winnie the Wicked Witch,” who “melts” to the floor with each successful reading.

Adding another dimension to the instruction is the class mascot, Corduroy, a bowtie-clad teddy bear, who plays several roles in the learning experience.  He cheers students when they achieve; he’s there for a hug when their hurt.  Often he’s a reverse psychologist, playing foil to Dale’s optimism.

“Corduroy just whispered to me that he doesn’t think the students can write those hard words,” she’ll announce.

“Yes we can, Corduroy!” comes the emphatic response.

To promote adventure and journaling, Corduroy is assigned to a single student each weekend.  Students chronicle their adventures with him for a large class scrapbook.  He’s a well-traveled bear, boasting trips all over the country.

“He’s the luckiest bear alive,” Dale smiled.

Dale says she makes sure to emphasize things that are of utmost importance to first grade age students—like losing teeth.  Kids fortunate enough to lose their teeth under Dale’s tutelage become members of her tooth club.  Their feats are graphed on a classroom wall.

“I have kids from other classes come and say ‘I’ve heard you pull teeth.’  That’s a really important thing in first grade!” she said.

Dale’s Huntsman award is made all the more gratifying by its timeliness, as she recovers from what was likely another stroke suffered last month.   She says she doesn’t remember much about what happened, but says doctors told her later that they had given her a ten percent chance of surviving the first night.

News of Dale’s hospitalization spread quickly through the Stansbury Park.  Rose Springs was flooded with well wishes and requests for news.  A Facebook page created by family to provide updates on her status garnered over 300 followers.

To the delight of the community, Dale made a rapid recovery.  Friends and family credit her indomitable spirit.  Dale, in many ways, credits her students.

“I just pictured the kids in mind—their faces, their strengths, their cute little personalities, and I just needed to get back to those little faces.  I needed them far more than they needed me,” she recalled.

Just over a week after being released from the hospital, Dale returned to school to visit her students, where Huntsman waited to announce her award.

“I told her she should work half days for a while,” said Jones.  “But she informed me she’d be doing full days.”

Miss Karma was back in front of the chalkboard full time the following Monday.  At Friday’s presentation she’ll be given a crystal trophy and a check for $10,000.  Dale says she plans to put the money toward medical expenses and a better used car.

Dale’s students will finish the school year by finalizing school memory books that they’ve compiled all year.  But their relationship with her won’t end with first grade.

“After I’ve taught the kids they’re locked in my heart forever,” she said.

Dale says she regularly attends recitals and graduations.  Former students stop by to check in with her often.  Several have grown up and entered the teaching field.  Dale says she has no plans to retire, but when she does retire, she’ll probably return to the preschool, since she can’t imagine not teaching children.

Her focus is firmly on the present where, in her brightly decorated classroom, students are thrilling to a flannel board story about corn and flowers.

“Do you think it’s kind of a miracle that this tiny of a seed can grow this big a flower?” She asks them.

“Yes,” come the wide-eyed responses, as if with an inkling that planting good seeds is Miss Karma’s specialty.

Last year was Miss Karma’s last at Rose Springs, but she will continue touching lives as an LDS missionary.  I would humbly ask you to consider donating to a GiveForward account to help cover the costs.  We hope to present the funds  to her at her retirement party on September 22nd. So please join me in paying it forward to Miss Karma for all that she has done for our children and community!

GiveForward – Miss Karma’s Mission

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on September 19, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

Stranded In Big Cottonwood Canyon: My first date gone awry

The following is a re-working of an article I wrote for the Tooele Transcript Bulletin a few years ago.

Maybe some things are just meant to be—no matter how hard you try to screw them up.

“We’re not too far away from the city, are we?” Meadow asked, veiling the uncertainty in her voice as best she could.  “Nah,” I reassured her, not elaborating that my definition of the term “far” at this particular moment was wildly subjective and that 4.5 miles by foot, in the mountains, at midnight, might be pushing the upper boundary of “not far.”

“Not way far,” I clarified.  What else could I say?

In hindsight, a night hike along what my friends and I referred to as “Certain Death Trail” in Big Cottonwood Canyon might not have been the best idea for a first date.  Especially given the fact that Meadow had just moved to Utah from the utterly flat state of Texas and had never been hiking before.  Somehow these thoughts failed to cross my mind a few days prior, when we met at a gathering of friends and I was arrested by her sultry hazel eyes.

“I’ll take her hiking,” I thought. “Girls dig outdoorsy guys who can take them on awesome hikes.  One look at the city from a canyon and she’ll be mine.”

Turns out my mistake wasn’t driving up the canyon or dragging her on a steep-ish two mile hike.  My slip-up occurred between those two events, but became apparent only after we had returned to trailhead parking lot and I noticed my keys were missing.

Initially, I convinced myself they must have slipped out of my jacket pocket at the overlook near the top. But a return to the top, scouring the mountainside by flashlight along the way, ruled that option out.  Meadow was incredibly patient with the repeat of the hike.

(Miles walked so far: 4)

I didn’t even want to consider the second possibility—that this strapping trail runner who, prior to the second two mile hike was well on his way to getting the girl, had accidentally locked his keys in the trunk of his 1991 Dodge Spirit.

The date, by all logic, was unsalvageable.  It was time for me to suck it up and somehow get this unfortunate girl back to civilization.  It was decision time.

Plan A: Somehow break into my car without shattering the windows and before she starts getting cold.

No dice.

Plan B: Start Walking. Stay upbeat. Avoid mountain lions and potential serial killers offering us rides. Then pick up the pieces of my shattered pride at the bottom.

“Hey, at least it’s downhill,” I told her.  She didn’t seem amused.

We joked about our misfortune, but our guarded laughter dwindled as we rounded curve after curve of quiet mountain road. We walked at least a mile (miles walked to this point: 5) before a normal-looking couple in a pickup offered to drive us to a pay phone (my phone was with my keys in the trunk). The awkward chitchat made the ride seem much longer than it was, but we were glad to be out of the mountains.

“So what are you going to do now?” The driver asked with all the compassion he could muster and still keep a straight face.

“Probably call a friend,” I lied as we climbed out of his cab at a grocery store in the valley, knowing full well that calling a friend would prove even more tragic than locking my keys in my car 4.5 miles up a canyon on a first date. The only thing worse than scaring a girl off is seeing her the next week at Leatherby’s, sharing a Banana Split with your friend that so nobly rescued her from her nightmare first date with you.

No, friends were definitely not an option. I picked up the pay phone and dialed the only person who could look past my idiocy and get me out of this mess. My mom arrived in short order, and we were soon driving back up the canyon with my backup key.

When we retrieved my keys and pulled out of the trailhead parking lot, I looked at the girl I was certain I’d never see again.

“I’m at a loss,” I blabbered, feeling about an inch tall. “I just don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she assured me, hinting that all hope wasn’t lost.. “This will be a great story!”

I agreed, and 14 years and 6 kids later, I still do.

 

Rose Springs’ Greg Robinson inspires students with life experience and music

This article originally appeared in the December 19, 2013 edition of the Tooele Transcript Bulletin.

It’s a frigid December morning in Stansbury Park.  Students bundled in their warmest winter gear trickle into Rose Springs Elementary to finish off the school week.  The school’s snowy lawns and icy walkways leave no doubt that winter has fully arrived.  But as far as the students in Mr. Robinson’s 6th grade class are concerned, it might as well be July.

They sit quietly at their desks—some writing, some pondering—most tapping their feet to the beat of Katy Perry’s recent single, “Roar,” which pumps from the classroom speakers at a volume that would make a schoolmarm blush.

Their classroom is awash in surf-themed décor.  An eclectic mix of educational art, University of Utah football and band posters adorn the walls.  The writing and pondering and tapping continue until Katy Perry fades to The Ramones.  Then, as if on cue, all thirty students begin belting the words to “Sheena Is a Punk Rocker,” substituting “Sheena” with “Savannah,” the name of a beaming classmate.

The spectacle is a prelude to the class’s morning meeting, an energetic roster of participatory instruction that the students have dubbed “Head Strong.”  Overseeing it all from the corner of the room is their teacher, Greg Robinson, who students, parents and administration alike refer to as simply Mr. Rob.

Dressed casually in blue jeans and a Harley Davidson beanie, Robinson, 43, has said nary a word to the class since the bell rang. Instead, he lets the music do the talking: The Ramones’ “Sheena” is a signal for students to clear their desks.  They line up for lunch to “Pudding Time” by Primus.  The Coasters’ “Yackety Yak” cues their afternoon cleanup.

“Everything is music-based in here,” Robinson explained.  “They learn the transition to the music so they don’t have to hear from me all day.  The less they have to listen to me about tiny, procedural things, the more they might listen when I say something important.”

A Harley Davidson fanatic from the small town of Ferron in Emery County, Robinson spent 13 years as a Journeyman electrician with the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers before taking up teaching.  He’s soft-spoken, yet direct and humble in the extreme.  His tone with students is casual, yet positive and purposeful, exuding a certain blue collar accessibility.  He’s quick to turn the subject from himself and listen intently to the speaker.

Robinson’s approach to classroom instruction is anything but conventional.  He attributes this in part to spending thirteen years in a construction field before entering the classroom.

“I wouldn’t be the teacher I am today had I went straight from college to classroom,” he said.  “Having worked for so many people, some that I really loved and some that I had a hard time with, I approached with the thought that I want this to be someplace the kids want to be.”

Hints of Robinson’s second career—the one that would become his true passion—came in his youth by way of a high school counselor.

“He said you really ought to do something with the youth because you seem well suited to that,” Robinson recalled.  “And I thought, really?  I didn’t know what he was thinking because I wasn’t even a good student.  I barely graduated—no lie!  I didn’t get it, but then as I got into my career I thought maybe I do have something to offer.”

His opportunity came in 2002 when his wife, Tara, started a private preschool, which allowed him to enroll at Utah State University and earn an Elementary Education degree.  He graduated in 2006 and took his first job as a 3rd great teacher at Rose Springs in 2007.  He taught 3rd grade for two years before moving to 6th.  The switch meant that many students who were in his 3rd grade class came back around for his 6th grade class.

“There’s nothing more obnoxious than someone who loves their job, but I do,” Robinson said.  “I can’t think of a day where I woke up and didn’t want to come here.  I always want to come here.”

Does he ever regret trading a lucrative career for the classroom?  One word: “Never.”

“Both my brothers are still electricians with IBEW, and I’m very proud of them.  One electrician co-worker asked me how I can stand being in one place,” Robinson said.  “I tell them it changes every 30 seconds when you have 30 6th graders; the adventure is there.  I don’t need anything more than what these kids provide. When you see them want to be a part of the community and you had any small part in that, that’s where you get the reward.”

That sense of community, or as Robinson calls it, “the power of the group,” is a recurring theme in Robinson’s philosophy on teaching.  In fact he considers it crucial to academic learning.  He conducts most instruction with the entire group with emphasis on what he calls the “school family.”  He said the technique, though simple, is highly successful.

“You can take somebody with high intelligence and they share that.  Instead of putting up their little cubical and blocking out everybody around them, they share that knowledge with each other.  That builds everybody up, no matter where their level is,” He said.

Key to this strategy are the student’s desire to be in the classroom and readiness for a hard day’s work.  Notably absent from Robinson’s syllabus is homework.  He has his reasons.

“If they go home with frustrating homework every night, I don’t feel like they come in here ready for the day,” he explained.  “How can you expect them to want to come to school the next day when they’ve been hammering through homework all night?  Not only that but breaking down family ties—because homework’s is always a battle, always a fight.”

He said some individual homework is warranted on rare occasions to help bring up a reading level, but he avoids group homework assignments.  The policy thrills students universally and throws some parents for a loop.

I’ve had some parents say, ‘Where’s the homework?  We need homework!’” Robinson laughed.  “And I‘ve had others come in and say things like ‘Thank you!  I’ve been teaching my daughter to sew.’  Life isn’t all about school.  There are other skills to learn too.”

Robinson said his primary goal each day is to foster an uplifting environment for the students—hence the colors and surf décor.  He pointed to a baby blue surf board standing beneath a straw umbrella near the window.

“I’m not a surfer,” he stipulated.  “I’d sink that board. But I want it to feel like summer on a really dreary winter day.  In my very first class, one of the kids in the winter said ‘It’s snowing outside but it still feels bright and happy in here.’  I thought perfect.  That‘s exactly what I wanted.  I put thought into every single thing to somehow positively affect the kids, so they want to be there.”

Music is a constant in Robinson’s classroom.  He searches for songs that lend to a positive atmosphere and incorporates them into a master playlist.  Artists like Matisyahu and 311 are prominent.

“If you think about a car ride without music, it’s just not the same at all,” he explained.  “It builds a spirit in the room.  I feel like they’re happier to turn in their papers.  They’re happier to clean off their desk.  It creates a soundtrack for their year.”

Robinson’s methods are well received by Rose Springs administration.  Leon Jones, Robinson’s principal during his first five years at the school, called Robinson a “champion of the students.”

“He has grown to be one of the most effective teachers in building confidence and high achievement,” Jones said.  “He is a remarkable teacher.”

Current Rose Springs Principal Belinda Butler praised Robinson as a role model.

“He traded financial gain for the impact he could have on the children,” Butler said.  “He helps them understand that they can succeed and conquer.  His students adore him.”

Robinson spends his summers doing electrician work to make ends meet.  When weather permits—and it does more often than you might think—he rides his prized 2008 Harley Davidson Road King to school.  The bike’s name is Rooster (Robinson said he didn’t come up with name; it was inspired).

“We’re bros,” Robinson said.  Rooster’s part of the family.”

Robinson has no love for the limelight and almost bristles at recognition.  He said he is inspired by fellow teachers, administrators and his wife.  His focus is squarely on the success of the class with the long term goal is to developing kindness and compassion in his students.  To that end, the class does several service projects each year, including an annual outing to sing Christmas carols at the Cottage Glen assisted living center in Tooele in lieu of a class Christmas party.  They also donate presents to the Children’s Justice Center each year.  Robinson frequently tells his students that the legacy they leave behind is how they treat each other.

“People often ask how I can stand to be around kids these days,” he said.  “They say, ‘Kids are so disrespectful.’ And I’ll say, ‘I don’t think you spend enough time with them, because this is the best generation I’ve ever known.’  I’m a better person because of them.”

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on December 30, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: ,

KDYL: KSL’s Doug Wright Reflects On His Days At Tooele’s Old Radio Station

This article originally appeared in the 11/12/13 edition of the Tooele Transcript Bulletin.

TOOELE, Any given day in 1968 – A young disc jockey sits in a small radio studio at the corner of Main and Vine, sorting through a stack of vinyl records.  The station’s reel-to-reel automation block has ended and it’s time to go live.  He unscrews the side of the massive belt-driven turntable, adjusts the gear speed and cues a Hank Snow track.  When he drops the needle, Tooele Valley is bathed with the lo-fi sounds of classic country music.

The station is KDYL 990 AM, “The Country Gentleman.”  The fledgling DJ is a high school student from Salt Lake City by the name of Doug Wright.  At age 16, Wright also serves as program director, news reader and janitor for the bare-bones, 1 kilowatt operation.  Being more of a rock and roll guy, he’s not particularly keen on the station’s country format.

But he’s obsessed with radio—and that is all that matters.

45 years later, Doug Wright is a mainstay at KSL Newsradio in Salt Lake City, and one of the best-known radio personalities in the business.  He sat down last month with the Transcript Bulletin to reflect on his radio career and its humble beginnings in Tooele.

“I always loved radio,” Wright said shortly after signing off his daily topical program, The Doug Wright Show, at KSL Studios in downtown Salt Lake.  “I was one of those geeky kids that would listen to those big old tube radios.  The game was to see how far away your mom’s old set could pick something up.  I remember thinking, if I could ever just be able to say that I was on the radio—just once—how cool that would be!”

Wright’s first turn behind a radio microphone, a volunteer gig at the University of Utah’s KUER, came when he was 16 years old.  After only a few months spinning records there, he set out to begin his commercial career.

“At that age you think you own the world and you think you’re a whole lot better and hotter than you are, and I just couldn’t understand why anybody wouldn’t hire me on a commercial basis,” Wright laughed.

After failing to find work in the Salt Lake area, Wright turned his focus westward to Tooele’s KDYL.

Relatively little has been documented about the early history of Tooele’s only long-lived radio station.  In fact, commercial radio amounts to only a side note in Tooele County history.  For most Tooele County residents, clear signals pouring in from stations in the Salt Lake market were local enough.  But that fact didn’t foil a significant run for Tooele’s AM station.

KDYL Tooele began airing in 1955 with the call sign KTUT, originally broadcasting from the Ritz Theater on Main Street.  The station was renamed re-branded KDYL in the mid-1960s and was purchased by Wendell Winegar, who moved it across Main to the building that now houses the LA Hispanic Market at the corner of Vine.  The cascading diamond shaped outlines of the letters K, D, Y, and L are still visible on the south face of the building.  The studio itself was located on the second floor in the southeast corner.  The station’s 200 foot tower still stands in a field at 600 N. 400 W.  The station switched from middle-of-the-road (MOR) programming to country in 1966.

The late 1960s marked a period of transition and mild upheaval for KDYL.  According to Wright, when Wright came calling in 1968, only the General Manager of the station remained.

“His name was Don Hall,” Wright recalled.  “And he was so desperate that, instead of seeing this pathetic little kid who wanted to be on the radio, he saw somebody that maybe could actually help him.  So I was hired pretty much on the spot.”

Together, Hall and Wright operated the small-town station using equipment that seemed ancient to Wright at the time.

“It was a great, great old station and everything was hand-me-down.  We used to just keep that place together with spit and bailing wire,” Wright said.

KDYL was a daytime station broadcasting between sunrise and sunset, with Wright at the helm as often as his schedule allowed.

“High school was kind of a casualty, if you want to know the truth,” Wright said.  “I was so in love with radio that high school, well…”

He commuted each day from Sugarhouse in his mother’s 1960 Plymouth.  Because his pay at KDYL was negligible, he financed the commute by working a part time job at a Salt Lake grocery store.

The station’s Schafer 800 reel-to-reel automation system allowed Hall and Wright to fill in parts of the day.  The format was country music, which Wright said was mainly geared to the adult population.  KDYL hosted weekly live show on Saturday mornings called “Country Jamboree” (or Country Jubilee—neither Wright nor Winegar could remember exactly), which featured local artists.  A block of Spanish language programming ran on Sunday.  For several years, KDYL covered Little League baseball games.  Surplus speakers from the Tooele Army Depot were installed on light posts along Main Street so listeners out and about could hear the coverage.  Wright remembers providing live coverage of a parade on Main Street by stringing a microphone through the roof of the building.

“It was a mishmash of things.  It was an eclectic place,” Wright smiled.

Hall and Wright integrated news into the programming where possible, but since a traditional news wire service proved too expensive, they occasionally lifted stories from newspapers (including the Transcript Bulletin).  Even so, Wright remembers the particularly jarring experience of going to a murder scene near the Tooele Post Office to gather details on the crime, then breaking into programming to provide updates over the air.

Particularly memorable to wright was the need for careful timing—especially when it came to the Tooele Valley Railroad, which used to run down Vine Street.

“You had to be really careful of what you were doing when the [train] came down,” he explained.  If you had a record on, it would just shake the needle right off.  If you heard that whistle blow as it would cross Main Street, you better not have a record on!”

In time, Winegar allowed Wright to break format on Saturday afternoons to play rock and roll.  This, according to Wright, was refreshing to younger listeners who began to visit him in-studio on Saturday nights.  He maintains friendships with many of them to this day.

“The kids just gravitated to it,” Wright recalled.  “I say ‘kids,’ but they were the same age that I was.  They kind of tolerated the country station, but it was so exciting to them to have something [of their own].”

Wright paused to point out that despite his initial aversion to the country genre, he acquired a taste for it while at KDYL.

“I used to joke with my friends, saying all I do out there is play Hank, Hank, Hank, and Hank.  Hank Locklin, Hank Snow, Hank Williams, Hank Jr.  But it got in my blood,” he said.

It was also during his time at KDYL that Wright became fascinated with mining history.  After signing off the air, he would frequently take excursions to local ghost towns and historic sites.  While venturing further south into Juab County with a girlfriend from Tooele, he fell in love with the small town of Eureka and later bought a home there.

After about a year at KDYL, Wright returned to the Salt Lake market, finally landing at KSL in 1978.  Originally working as a fill-in host, he became Program Director and began hosting his own show.  The Doug Wright Show airs from 9:00 to noon on weekdays.  According to KSL Program Director Kevin LaRue, Wright’s show is heard by some 50,000 listeners each day.

Winegar sold the station in 1979 and KDYL continued broadcasting as such until 1982 when it released the call sign to a Salt Lake station, assumed call sign KTLE, and switched its frequency AM 1010.  The station switched ownership and formats several more times until 2009, when it was purchased by IHR Educational Broadcasting.  The station, now KIHU (for Immaculate Heart Utah), broadcasts Catholic religious programming.

The seasoned broadcaster looks back on his KDYL days fondly and said his experience broadcasting from Main and Vine helped shape his career.  He lamented the demise of small-town, community focused media like Tooele’s KDYL:

“When we lose that small town newspaper, that small town radio station, we lose a little bit of our soul.”

But channeling Mark Twain, he posited that the reports of radio’s demise have been greatly exaggerated.  It must adapt and evolve, but the need for local radio will always remain.

“There’s something to tuning in and knowing that person’s right there too, that they’re in the same time frame that you are in, that the weather you’re experiencing, they’re experiencing too,” Wright explained.  “The core of it is that friend on the radio.”

bonnevillemariner@gmail.com

 
 

Tags: , , , ,

What will become of the historic Benson Grist Mill? Make your voice heard

The Benson Grist Mill with Oquirhh Mountains in the background (photo by Clint Thomsen)

The Benson Grist Mill with Oquirhh Mountains in the background (photo by Clint Thomsen)

Last week the Tooele Transcript Bulletin reported that the staff of the historic Benson Grist Mill in Stansbury Park had been laid off due to county budget woes. According to the piece (the online version of which is behind the TTB’s pay wall), the mill complex will remain closed for a 30-day “timeout” period, during which the Tooele County Commission will decide its fate.

The mill’s temporary closure and uncertain future are alarming to those of us with a passion for Tooele County history, especially those who so diligently restore it from shambles in the 1980s.  I haven’t spoken directly to County Commissioner Shawn Milne about the mill, but I gather he understands the site’s historical value and will do his best to see that it re-opens under capable oversight.

But whose oversight?  Milne reached out to local residents today via Facebook to solicit feedback:

3-21-2013 1-56-35 PM

My take?  It’s a no-brainer.  Assuming the LDS Church is interested in acquiring the complex, it would be the best steward hands-down.  Here’s why:

1.  Private ownership means tax dollars can be used elsewhere.

2.  The mill plays a major role in LDS Church history in the county.  It was built in 1854 by LDS apostle Ezra Taft Benson to serve the predominantly LDS population of the region.  The construction of the mill and the relics surrounding it (including the ruins of the Grantsville Woolen Factory) are archetypical of classic Mormon Pioneer architecture.  Who better to care for these old structures than the organization that originally built it, and whose heritage it so perfectly encapsulates?

3.  The LDS Church very capably oversees numerous historic properties.  And it’s the whole deal, too– preservation, maintenance, public tours, and…

4.  Archaeology.  The mill and surrounding structures are an archaeological treasure trove.  For everything you see above ground at that site, there’s triple that underground.  Tooele County never had the resources to fund true archaeological research at the site (example: in 2008 a portion of the original miller’s residence was accidentally unearthed by a Stansbury Park maintenance crew.  A photo or two was taken and the site was promptly paved over).  The LDS Church, however, has a full archaeological arm.  The mill has been dubbed the most significant historical structure in western Utah.  Just imagine what lies beneath!

I don’t know whether or not the County Commission has approached either Stansbury Park or the LDS Church about taking ownership of the mill, and these are just my initial thoughts spurred by Milne’s Facebook Post.  But I’m obviously concerned about the mill’s future, and given the two choices, this is the best way to go.

What are your thoughts?  Commissioner Milne’s Facebook question was posed specifically to Stansbury Park residents, but I’m sure the Tooele County Commission would appreciate your thoughts regardless of where you’re from.  Contact them via their website here.  I’ll post updates as I learn them.

My previous posts and articles about the Benson Grist Mill:

Historical discoveries still await in old E.T. City area
Preserving History: Stansbury couple’s work provides a look into county’s past
A Glimpse into the Past: Investigating Tooele Valley’s Most Visible Pioneer Relic

 

Tags:

Sandstone, Detergent and Train Track Mirages: My Obscure Thanksgiving List

Wife.  Kids.  God.  Country.

Those are givens on any Thanksgiving list, but I’ll save those for the family gathering.  There are countless inconspicuous, even obscure, everyday things that also make me happy.  Here are the first ten that came to mind:

Stuff My Kids Say
Like this from my 7 year old on a recent desert road trip: “Dad, I think I’m having a mirage; there’s no way those train tracks are real!”

Stuff Steve Friedman Writes
Like this piece about wilderness survival, or this one about a folding bike.

Cherry Coke Zero (ice cold, of course)
The pleasure of Real Cherry Coke but without the sugar, the guiltlessness of Coke Zero, but without the weird peppery taste.

The Plants Outside My Office Window At Work
That took root in a concrete nook and remain defiantly lush and green all winter.  I keep meaning to ask somebody what they are.

Entrada Sandstone
The stuff natural arches are made of. Naturalist Edward Abbey said it best when he described the Moab area’s most famous landmark, Delicate Arch, as “an illogical geologic freak, a happening— a something that happened and will never happen quite that way again, a frame more significant than its picture, a simple monolith eaten away by weather and time and soon to disintegrate into a chaos of falling rock.”

This song by Matisyahu
That makes me want to scramble up a wall of Entrada sandstone.

Redeye Flights
Being really tired makes the prospect of a 5 hour flight much less daunting.  Chatty Patty is too bushed to make small talk, and I can be in downtown Manhattan before rush hour.

Beach Boys Session Recordings
Have Surfin’ USA and Kokomo become a little stale for you?  Spotify the Smile and Pet Sounds Sessions to enjoy hours of backing tracks, isolated vocals, and scrubbed takes of some of the greatest Beach Boys tunes.

Netflix
The Missus and I were too busy to catch shows like Heroes and Prison Break during their TV runs a few years ago.  We’re even busier now, but when we do snag an hour of couch time, nothing beats no commercials and no wait between episodes.  I can almost forgive them for those incessant online pop-under ads.  Almost.

The Off-Brand Laundry Detergent We’re Currently Using
The scent of which reminds me of the the bug repellent Mom used to to slather us with on summer camping trips to the Manti-LaSal National Forest, just before sunset.

Happy Thanksgiving!

 
 

Some Halloweentime Reading

Halloween is once again upon us, so here are a few spooky stories from the archives to get you in the spirit!

Ghosts in the desert? Past and paranormal meet in Old River Bed

Ghosts of Mercur Cemetery don’t reveal themselves easily

Spring Canyon Spooks: In search of the White Lady

‘There’s a body in there!’

Saltair’s spooky side shines in “Carnival of Souls”

 

Tags: , , ,

 
Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 85 other followers