The Mission

Last week, Jeanell and I took a trip to Cabo with Devin, Kareena, and Caleb. We had a great time and I was able to use my long-dormant Spanish here and there. It was the first time I had been back to Mexico since I served there as a missionary from 1996 to 1998. I used the flights to and from to take advantage and read through my missionary journal and was reminded of various aspects of my mission that I had forgotten. I thought I'd write about some of my experiences, quoting entries from my journal, and adding additional commentary where appropriate.

To start I wanted to get the basic facts out of the way. Lyle Lawton (Lyle is our neighbor across the street and currently serves as my mom's Ministering Brother) was my Bishop when I prepared to go on my mission. D. Brent Rose was my Stake President. I received my call to the Mexico City North Mission on April 11, 1996. I went through the temple on May 11, 1996 (Jeanell and I would be married four years minus one day later). My farewell was on June 23, 1996. I was set apart on June 25, 1996.

My mission was exactly 106 weeks. I entered the MTC on June 26, 1996. Exactly nine weeks later, I left the MTC for Mexico City on August 28, 1996. And 97 weeks after that, I returned home, on July 8, 1998.

I had 12 companions (including my MTC companion). Nine of them were Mexican and three were American. The longest I was with a companion was one day short of three months. The shortest was one day short of one month. My companions were as follows:

Elder Robert McCrae (from Georgia), June 26, 1996 - August 29, 1996 (MTC)

Elder Edialberto Inda (from Mexicali), August 29, 1996 - November 25, 1996 (Villa de Las Flores)

Elder Javier Olvera (from Matamoros), November 25, 1996 - December 31, 1996 (Villa de Las Flores)

Elder David Hope (from Pennsylvania), December 31, 1996 - March 14, 1997 (Tlalnepantla)

Elder Edgar Galvez (from Tijuana), March 14, 1997 - May 26, 1997 (Tlalnepantla)

Elder Ricardo Hurtado (from Campeche), May 26, 1997 - July 7, 1997 (Linda Vista)

Elder Eduardo Gutierrez (didn't record and don't remember), July 7, 1997 - August 12, 1997 (Linda Vista)

Elder Moises Lozano (didn't record and don't remember), August 12, 1997 - November 11, 1997 (Tlalnepantla)

Elder Jose Zepeda (from Sonora), November 11, 1997 - January 7, 1998 (Arbolillo)

Elder Sam Sturgeon (from Arizona), January 7, 1998 - March 17, 1998 (Arbolillo)

Elder Carlos Morales (from Chihuahua), March 17, 1998 - June 8, 1998 (Cuautitlan)

Elder Hugo Hernandez (from Veracruz), June 8, 1998 - July 7, 1998 (Cuautitlan)

My Mission Presidents were Donald and Virginia Cazier for the entirety of my mission. I believe President Cazier arrived in Mexico just before I did.

Some general impressions as I read through my journal

• I seemed to enjoy the MTC much more than I enjoyed the mission field. I was struck by how many days my entries expressed discouragement (incidentally, that's not how I remember my mission).
• Mail was king. Seems like I always noted how many letters I received and from who.
• The average length of my entries decreased rather drastically over time, but I was never especially wordy. I believe my shortest entry was "Good day. Good night."
• I wrote to my journal as if it were a person, which I guess people do, but I would sign off with phrases like "See you tomorrow!"

Some Entries (my commentary in bold):

July 1, 1996 (Elder McCrae)

...

The rest of the day was pretty normal. I did not receive any mail (mail!). Since I pick up the mail for my district, it was pretty frustrating (can you imagine having to pick up mail for everyone and everyone getting mail but you?). Oh well, maybe tomorrow.

During the closing prayer of our evening class, one of the elders passed gas and everyone laughed through the whole prayer. I tried hard not to, but I could not help myself (you can set apart 19-year-olds to be the Lord's representatives, but they're still 19-year-olds).

July 29, 1996 (Elder McCrae)

Today was not a good day. I felt very frustrated all day and got in a shoving match with Elder Dyer. I hope a good night's rest will do me well (I remember this, but not too well. I remember something was said and Elder Dyer, I believe more jokingly got in my face. I did not react well and shoved him as hard as I could. Felt bad about it).

August 28, 1996 (Elder McCrae)

What a day! I awoke at 1:45 this morning and finished preparing to leave. We left the MTC at 3:45. We arrived at the airport at 4:45. I was able to spend an hour and a half with my family and friends...

The plane left for San Francisco at about 7:15 (this was the first time I'd been on an airplane)...

...The flight to Mexico City was awful! I was so sick! I know that it was only through the Lord's help that I made it (I remember it was raining very hard and that we initially made our descent but the pilot pulled up at the last minute because the runway was covered with water. We circled the city for a while before attempting to land again, which wasn't ideal for those of us who were not feeling well).

...

We then piled in a suburban and drove for about 2 hours with our driver trying to find the mission home. It was quite an experience.

I'm finally settled in and starting to feel a little bit better (I remember Sister Cazier had prepared a nice meal for us at the mission home, but I did not eat a bite). I am very humbled and know I desperately need the Lord's help. I know he will.

October 14, 1996 (Elder Inda)

...

At Septien's we ate supper tonight. Lupita offered Elder Inda a napkin. Kristina said they didn't have any and Lupita said "Yes, I know, but we can use toilet paper." As she went to the bathroom to get it, Elder Inda said, "Clean, eh?" I laughed pretty hard at that one. All in all it was a good day.

November 3, 1996 (Elder Inda)

Today was pretty good. We finally baptized Ernesto. That kid's a punk. I just about threw him. He was driving me crazy (way to love the people Elder Mouritsen)...

December 23, 1996 (Elder Olvera)

Today was pretty fun. As a zone, we went to Xochimilco and rode around in a boat for three hours (I remember that a random couple from Canada was on the boat with us. Other than them, it was all missionaries). We sang some hymns and played some games. The man that was rowing for us said, "Trabajo todo el dia y no me canso (I work all day and don't get tired)." About four elders yelled back, "Eso!" It was pretty funny.

January 7, 1996 (Elder Hope)

...We talked to one woman who said that many went on missions to avoid Vietnam. Another man asked if we were Mormons and then told us to repent. Thus it goes with the mission life.

May 2, 1997 (Elder Galvez)

Today went pretty well. Yesterday, we ran out of matches and so we thought we'd have to shower with cold water (we'd light the boiler, heat up the water, shower, and then turn the boiler back off each day). I managed to light the boiler with the electric stove and newspaper (thank you Church News!), but I didn't tell my companion. I guess he felt cold right before showering and said a little prayer that the water wouldn't be too cold. He then turned on the water and after a few seconds of cold water, hot water started to pour from the [shower head]. It was a miracle!...

May 5, 1997 (Elder Galvez)

...[We ate dinner] with la familia Reyes. They told us that there's a rumor that we're flirting (moi?). I really feel bad.

May 10, 1997 (Elder Galvez)

...We had the junta (meeting) with Noe. It seems that people say I'm a big flirt. I told my companion that I'm ready to leave the area.

May 17, 1997 (Elder Galvez)

Today was a pretty good day. We worked with the young men in the area of Elder Andrewsen (Elder Andrewsen received a "Dear John" while we were in this zone together. We came home at the same time and the night before we returned home, we put together that the girl who had "Dear-John"'d him had married someone from Grantsville. That someone...Cam Jefferies. That girl is now my sister-in-law)...

June 8, 1997 (Elder Hurtado)

Today was a terrible day. At church, I got in a fight with my companion. I get so stressed and uptight at times. I've got to learn to relax (Jeanell can relate). I felt bad for what I did so I let my comp sleep all day and then watched the entire Jazz game (this was when the Jazz were playing the Bulls in the NBA Finals). I feel about as bad as I've ever felt. The good news is that we had a baptism today. Raul was baptized. Also, the Jazz won (well that's something).

August 5, 1997 (Elder Gutierrez)

An interesting day. It really didn't go that well. We practiced for the program this morning. On the way back, I had an attack. I thought I'd never make it to the bathroom. I did...almost. I arrived to the bathroom running. The toilet seat was down. In desperation, I flipped it up, turned and sat. Unfortunately, the seat fell back down. There was crap everywhere. The rest of the day wasn't great (honestly, how do you really recover from something like that?).

October 13, 1997 (Elder Lozano)

Today went alright. It rained about almost all morning, but we still played some basketball. I cut my lip shaving this morning (I laugh because that's all I said, but I remember that I had to put a band-aid on my lip and Elder Lozano started to make fun of me, telling me how pretty I looked. I wasn't in the mood and grabbed him and threw him to the ground. Not my finest moment)...

November 8, 1997 (Elder Lozano)

...Afterwards, we visited Maria. She went into her room to get her Book of Mormon and found that her brother was trying to hang himself. He was pretty purple when we found him. My companion and I helped to keep him breathing until the ambulance arrived. It was pretty scary (sounds like an understatement).

December 21, 1997 (Elder Zepeda)

...My comp got punched in the face. A car passed and intentionally hit a dog. My comp [yelled], "Que le pasa, mi chavo (what is wrong with you dude?) and so some guy got out of the car and came over and hit him. Of course, we didn't retaliate or anything (there were 2-3 other guys in the car that were starting to get out, but I love how I made it seem that as missionaries we would never retaliate. If I'm being honest, I think I just didn't want to get punched). The rest of the day was so-so (probably better for me since I'm not the one who got punched)...

January 13, 1998 (Elder Sturgeon)

Today was interesting. My comp wasn't feeling well so we went to the doctor. Next thing we know, they were taking out his appendix. We spent the night in the hospital.

February 12, 1998 (Elder Sturgeon)

...Last night, my companion [and I] moved our mattresses upstairs at about midnight because the assistants were snoring. It was pretty funny.

(The time I served with Elder Sturgeon in Arbolillo was probably the most enjoyable part of my mission. We had similar personalities and worked well together).

March 20, 1998 (Elder Morales)

...We also had a baptism today. Jose Luis was baptized. His cousin, Abinadi, was also baptized. Abinadi was a little nervous about going into the water. He screamed and cried and ran away. It was pretty funny. (At one point he ran out of the church building. Then, as his dad caught him and was carrying him back to the font over his shoulder, he yelled, "Bishop! Help me!"). Finally his father had to bear hug him and force him under the water (Not sure if that was valid or not. Only time I've seen a baptism done in that way).

(My main memory with Elder Hernandez was watching the end of Game 6 of the 1998 Finals and seeing the Jazz lose. We had a baptism that day and after we went to visit them and I not-so-innocently asked if they liked basketball. They turned the game on and I saw Stockton hit his three, followed by the collapse that culminated with Jordan's famous final shot (he pushed off)).

July 8, 1998

I left Mexico at 7:00 this morning. We went from there to Dallas. On the way to Salt Lake, I spoke with a Christian Scientist about the Church. At 12:30, I arrived in Salt Lake. My family was there, as well as Uncle Jed and Uncle John, Shelly, George, and Jim. We also went and ate at Sizzler with Grandma and Grandpa Nalder, who were also there. We went to Brent's All-Start game and then returned home. I was able to say hi to Tripps, Allreds, Barb Fawson, Nelsons. I feel really weird!

And thus ended my two-year mission to Mexico City. Those who have been reading know that I am no longer a believing member of the Church whose message I spent two years teaching. Jeanell has asked me if I regret having served a mission. I feel I can honestly say that I don't regret it. While I'm somewhat ambivalent about having taught and baptized people, I consider my mission one of the molding experiences of my life.

First time back since 1998. Mexican Night!

First companion (Elder Inda) and Jose Ernesto

School where we taught English

Tlalnepantla where I first became a Zone Leader with Elder Lozano

George

My family moved to Grantsville in June of 1983. The next morning two kids from across the street knocked on our door and asked if the boys could play. That’s when I first met George (who went by his initials, G.A., at the time) and his younger brother Jacob.

From that day through the end of our sophomore year in college, our lives would be intertwined. We lived on the same street, in the same ward, in the same grade (I don’t think we were in the same class until Mrs. Mikelson’s third grade, but I think we were in the same class for three straight years starting then).

Our friendship would often contain a hint of rivalry, and that would increase somewhat as we got older. My first Halloween in Grantsville, I was going to be Pac-Man and George was going to be a pirate. My mom had sewn a Pac-Man costume for me. I think after Halloween was over we were talking and George informed me that I hadn’t looked *that* much like Pac-Man. I retorted that he hadn’t looked that much like a pirate, but he insisted that yes, he had.

A few years later, our common neighbor Andrew Proctor got some boxing gloves and we were trying them out in Andrew’s front yard. I had boxed before at my cousin’s house and with what I felt was some success so I was confident. But when George and I boxed he knew what he was doing and was disciplined enough to execute it. He kept his guard up the entire time and easily blocked my attempts to punch him while getting me with a jab whenever I would let my guard down. After several minutes of him just annihilating me, I lost my temper, wrestled him to the ground, took off my gloves and kneed him in the face.

Seems like I remember someone asking us several years later who would win if George and I fought. I responded that George would win if it was boxing and George chimed in that I would win if it was ultimate fighting.

(That story captures how our respective athletic careers would go. I was usually stronger and faster, but George was more technically sound and disciplined. I never played with anyone that could take a skill that a coach taught in a practice and immediately execute it in a game like George could. One specific memory I have was Coach Roger Cowan teaching the big men how to do a drop step our Freshman year of basketball. The very next game, George posted up and executed one to perfection).

While we didn’t always get along, I’d say we usually did. George and I (and his brother Jacob) would get a Calvin Hobbes or Far Side comic book and sit side by side on a couch in their basement and just read straight through, laughing the whole time.

George and Jacob got an Atari and of course we spent hours playing Pitfall and Space Invaders.

I’ve written about my childhood on Eastmoor, and George was with me through all of that. Neighborhood games, games on the trampoline, basketball in the driveway, football in the park, and forts in the fields.

When we got into high school, we both elected not to play football our freshman year (it was definitely nice to have some solidarity there because all of our other friends did play). During football season, we would get up early in the morning, go to the church, and practice basketball before school. We would be on the basketball team together throughout high school.

Our sophomore year, we repented and decided to play football. We both would become starters on the varsity our junior year and would be two of the three from Grantsville (along with Ryan Keisel) who got First-Team All-State our Senior year.

Between our junior and senior year, we attended Engineering State at Utah State together, which was a great experience and where we would meet people such as Jim Stephenson and Shelly Anderson who would become lifelong friends.

We both excelled academically and that was maybe where our rivalry was the most intense. When we were seniors and were trying to decide who should be a Sterling Scholar for what, I said I wanted to do Math and George acquiesced and he did Science. In between deciding that and the competition, George got a 36 on the Math portion of the ACT (I got a 33) and George got a 5 on the AP Calculus exam (I got a 3). He clearly should have been the Math Sterling Scholar. I ended up being the First Runner Up but always felt bad about it because George probably could have won.

We were also neck-and-neck for Valedictorian. The first time we took the ACT, I got a 31 and George got a 30. George also got an A- in a class that I didn’t take so I had a slight lead in the formula used at the time. George re-took the ACT and got a 32, which put him slightly in the lead to be Valedictorian. I hadn’t been planning to retake the ACT, but then decided that I had to. I got a 33 and would be the Valedictorian and George would be the Salutatorian. But for people that went to school with us, it was George they would consider to be the smartest person they knew.

The summer after we graduated, we both went to play in the 1A/2A vs 3A All-Star football game. The practices were held in Blanding and George drove us (and Ryan) down there in his parents’ blue Toyota Camry. The battery kept dying on us and we’d have to ask someone to give us a jump every time we stopped. George also unjustly was given a ticket when a car in front of us abruptly turned into a side road without signaling and we almost crashed into them (George would return to San Juan County to fight the ticket a few weeks later and successfully got it dismissed). While we were there, we stayed with Shana Judd’s daughter Terri Laws so we had a Grantsville connection. (I later learned that Terri was Tony Clark’s aunt). We ended up beating the 3A. It was a fun and memorable experience.

Following high school, we both decided to attend Utah State and would room together at the Pineview apartments. We both started out in Engineering, George Mechanical and me Environmental. (I would later change to Math while George would finish his undergraduate degree in Mechanical Engineering before going on to medical school).

Neither of us was very social the first of that year (until our neighbors broke the ice by stealing our chairs). But almost anything we did do socially we did together. We would also go to the gym together early in the mornings.

Following our freshman year, we both left on LDS missions for two years (me to Mexico City and George to the Philippines).

When we returned, we went back to Pineview and roomed together one more year.

George always pushed me to be the best version of myself. I knew how hard I had to work to keep up with him and that always motivated me to do my best.

I’ve shared this story before but my favorite George story came the following year when we were no longer roommates. He had moved to a new apartment to room with our friend Jim and I had stayed at Pineview. One afternoon I was walking up 800 East toward campus and George and Jim passed me driving heading the opposite direction. George saw me and did a U-Turn and pulled over. He rolled down the window and said “hi” and I asked them where they were headed.

George: “I’m just taking Jim to the hospital. He thinks he might have appendicitis.”

Me (a bit incredulously): “Why did you stop?!”

Jim (doubled over in pain in the passenger seat): “I was kind of questioning it myself.”

It did end up being appendicitis, but thankfully, even with the brief detour, they were able to remove it in time.

George and I have remained friends through the years. When he and his wife Kimi were moving to Nebraska for medical school, Jeanell and I threw them a farewell party at our house in Ogden. Later, I went to Nebraska on a work trip and was able to meet up with George and Kimi and Jim for dinner.

My only hang-up with George is that he moved his family to Morgan of all places, where his oldest daughter became a state champion sprinter.

But even though his practice is an hour away, George was effectively Lila’s pediatrician. He was worth the drive.

Last summer, George and I, along with Kimi, Dave, and Kim Stookey hiked to Deseret Peak. The hike took a while and was a great chance to chat more than we’d been able to for several years.

George has been a great friend throughout my life. Grateful for the person he is and the great friend he has been.

My Other Mom

In my life, there are a few women in addition to my own mother, who have played a mother-like role for me. The mothers of my close friends have always loved me and treated me like I was one of their own children. Liz Tripp, Barb Fawson, Sherry Larsen, and Debbie Allred have all been bonus moms to me and I'm so grateful for the influence they've had on my life and the relationship I still have with most of them (Sherry sadly passed away several years ago).

But when I married Jeanell, Carol Jefferies became my other mom and she has blessed and enriched my life ever since.

Carol can be intimidating. When Jeanell and I dated in high school I think I was a little intimidated by her. I don't know exactly why that is, but maybe because she is so accomplished, focused, and driven and in some settings she can be a little reserved. But once you get to know her, you'll find her to be warm, funny, and kind to a degree few are. I don't remember getting to know Carol real well when Jeanell and I dated in high school but I do remember on one occasion being at a gathering with some of her siblings and her putting her arm around me and how that made me feel accepted.

(On the subject of being focused, we joke about how Carol only looks at the road when she is driving. I have passed her and waved at her dozens of times over the years when she's been driving. I think she saw me and waved back once).

I've related elsewhere about how one of my first interactions with Carol before Jeanell and I even started dating was me (with a little help from my friend Aaron) breaking the legs off of her piano bench. (Way to make a great first impression Rich!). She never seemed to hold that against me.

Another early memory I have of Carol is she and her sister Jean organizing a group of kids around my age to learn songs that we would then go and sing at various sacrament meetings. I'm sure there were other songs that we sang, but the one I vividly remember is "In This Very Room."

After Jeanell and I had broken up and we were getting ready to graduate, I was part of a group that was going to sing "This Is the Moment" from Jekyll and Hyde at our graduation. Carol taught us the music and accompanied us on the piano as I recall.

When Jeanell and I started dating again in the fall of 1999, Carol made me feel welcome from the start. I've related elsewhere how she accompanied Jeanell and I when we went to pick out Jeanell's engagement ring. But something else I remember from that experience is her going out of her way to make sure I felt ok about the expense (i.e., that I wasn't spending more than I felt I could afford).

The night Jeanell and I got engaged I remember returning to the Jefferies' home and Dave and Carol congratulating us. Carol made it clear that very night that she thought of me the same as one of her own children. "No 'in-law cards'," she told me.

The first few months Jeanell and I were married we lived with the Jefferies. Things didn't always go smoothly as I adjusted to being a husband and father and there were times I didn't handle situations as well as I should have. I still have letters of encouragement and advice that Carol wrote me during that time that helped me and meant a great deal to me.

Since marrying Jeanell, I have had more of a first-hand glimpse at the remarkable woman that Carol is. She has worked for and eventually owned and run the grocery store business that her great-grandfather started, expanding it to a second location in 2011. Running the store keeps her plenty busy, but she also ran and served on the school board for several years. On top of that, she auditioned and made the Tabernacle Choir for many years. Even after her retirement as a singer, she stayed involved with the choir for several more years, preparing elaborate gift baskets for the various guest performers that would come to sing with the Choir.

But I think what impresses me most about Carol is that despite all that she has to do, she never seems hurried or frazzled and always has time for her family. (Her daughters will say that sometimes "party day Carol" will come out, but I can't say that I've ever witnessed it).

Carol has always gone above and beyond as a Grandma and I love the relationship that each of my kids has with her. When Caleb was young his brothers would spend every other weekend with their dad. On those weekends, Caleb would go and stay with Grandma and Grandpa Jefferies so that he wouldn't feel left out or notice the absence of his brothers as much.

When Lila was born, that was the first birth of one of her grandchildren that Carol wasn't there for. Lila was born about 7 AM in Logan with a significant snowstorm happening. Carol missed her birth by about 15 minutes.

Carol is a terrific cook and prepares wonderful meals. She is a brilliant cake decorator and has made the wedding cakes for most (if not all) of her children and grandchildren. Her gift wrapping and presentation is elaborate, with each present having a personalized card instead of a label. I still have cards that were on gifts from years ago because they're too nice to throw away.

Carol has organized and taken us on numerous trips over the years that have contributed to the relationship we have as an extended family and have made wonderful memories that we will always share.

A funny experience from one of those trips was at Universal Studios. We were waiting to do the studio tour and Carol purchased a pretzel with cheese that she shared with some of the grandkids. Not exactly sure what happened or how it happened, but I believe it was Jeanell that first noticed that she had cheese on her glasses, then someone noticed cheese on her shirt. It seemed like everywhere we looked we would find more cheese.

Years ago I was asked to sing in sacrament meeting (I was never asked back) and asked Carol to accompany me. I'm pretty sure she had to miss a Choir performance to do it, but she immediately said she would accompany me, rehearsed with me multiple times, and perhaps most importantly made me feel that my performance was good.

When Dave and Carol built their new home, they included a large hall on the back of it that can accommodate a lot of people. Carol has two beautiful pianos in that room and allows local music teachers to hold recitals there, free of charge. This is just one of the many ways Carol serves the community, in her quiet and unassuming way.

When my dad died, Carol invited my mom and siblings and families to her home for an amazing dinner prior to my dad's viewing. That's a lot of people and was a lot of work (my son Devin and his wife Kareena were living with Carol at the time and helped with the preparations, as well as Dave), but was such an appreciated service to me and my family.

A few years ago, Carol was talking about going to Europe when she was part of the BYU Folk Dancers and said that they had seen Les Mis in London. I'm not the encyclopedia of musical theatre that Uncle Scott is, but I knew that Les Mis was not yet a thing at the time this Europe trip would have happened. I of course couldn't let it go and told her there was no way she had seen Les Mis in London in the early 70s. But I didn't let it rest there. I went home and did some Googling and found a travelogue of that trip on BYU's site. There were entries that Carol herself had written. We learned that it was in fact Fiddler that she had seen on that trip. And that's how I became the family fact-checker. Now, whenever someone in the family makes some kind of a claim, their warned that I will likely check to make sure their claim is true.

Carol has been a tremendous blessing in my life. Grateful to her (and Dave) for raising an amazing daughter, for loving me like one of her own children, and for being an amazing grandma to my kids. I love you Carol.

Sea World (2005)

Disneyland (2011)

Old Folks Sociable (2017)

Southern California (2018)

 

Caleb Cross Country (2018)

Disneyland (2018)

Cinco de Mayo

Jeanell

Here in a few days, my favorite person will celebrate another birthday.

Jeanell is the most amazing and wonderful person I know and I am overcome daily that I get to see her and spend time with her nearly every day and that I am someone she loves.

As I think back on our life together, I am floored by the number of times she supported me at great personal sacrifice.

When we got married, I was between my junior and senior year at Utah State. We would need to move to Logan so I could finish school. So she moved herself and her three boys to Logan to live in a cinder block apartment and took care of the boys while I worked and went to school. Before we left Logan, we'd add a fourth boy to the equation.

We moved to Ogden after I finished school and about a year after I finished my bachelor's degree at USU, I became aware of an MBA program at Weber State that was catered to people who were working full-time. Nucor (Vulcraft), who I worked for at the time, offered tuition reimbursement, so I thought it might be a good investment. I approached Jeanell with the idea and she told me to do it, even though by this point in time she was working herself. On the night's I'd have school I'd get home and she'd have to leave shortly after for her overnight shift at Walmart. She did this for three years while I completed the MBA program in 2005.

A year after that, I was invited to be part of a project team that would work on implementing a new ERP system for the Vulcraft divisions within Nucor. The rumor was that there would be a nice bonus for those on this project team, but it would entail traveling to Dallas every week for 12-18 months. I talked to Jeanell about it and she again told me to go for it. As I look back on it, I can't believe that I even asked her to take that on, let alone that she accepted. Our sons would have been aged 5-11 when I started that and I would be gone from early Monday morning to Thursday evening every single week. Jeanell took that on, continuing to work full-time and also be a single-parent during the week.

Jeanell has always been my biggest cheerleader and has encouraged me to take on opportunities, even when me doing so means more work and responsibility on her.

Last week, I wrote about my dad's death and how immediately after he died, several of us went on a road trip to see a BYU football game. While we did that, Jeanell stayed at home and went through pictures and prepared items to display at my dad's viewing and funeral.

But beyond blessing my life personally, the fact that I get to be in her life lets me get a glimpse of how she lifts and blesses those around her. I see the cards and notes she gets from people grateful for all that she does for them. I see the gifts she gives. I see how she is always looking for opportunities to serve other people, a meal for someone who is sick, a ride for someone's kids, books for someone's classroom. I see how she supports local businesses purchasing wreaths, charms, and other decor items from people in town. I see how despite her busy schedule she goes to as many of her nieces and nephews sporting events or other performances as she can. She's been to ballroom competitions, choir concerts, piano recitals, dance recitals, and I'm sure others I can't think of right now.

I love Jeanell with all my heart and am so grateful she is mine. Happy Birthday my love!

The response I often get when I try to compliment Jeanell or tell her how wonderful she is is "Well of course you're going to say that, you're my husband." So I wanted to invite some other people to chime in on Jeanell and what she means in their lives...

(The photo selections are my responsibility and I know the subjects will not be happy with some (maybe all) of my selections. Some are recent, some from long ago. Where possible, I just tried to find a picture that I thought captured the essence of the relationship. That was easier in some cases than in others. Sometimes I just had to find a picture that both Jeanell and the other person were in and in some cases I couldn't even do that. Sue me).

"Oh what to say... So much... 

"I am so grateful to have you in my life. Your kindness, support, and friendship mean more to me than you know. Thank you for always being there for us and for bringing so much joy and laughter into our lives. I cherish our friendship and am blessed to call you my friend. Because of you I have been able to experience things I only dreamed of... Thank you. You are the most beautiful creature I know. Happy Birthday! You deserve all the good things." - Trista

"Nellie is one of a kind. She’s everyone’s favorite person (including mine) and that’s no surprise. That must be why I love her son so much too ;). She’s the life of the party, but also the most selfless person I’ve ever met. She will do anything to make sure you feel special. The way she loves and takes care of her family has always been amazing to me. I hope that one day I can be half the mom that she is to her kids. She is so special to me and I will always cherish the special bond we have. I love Nellie so much and hope she has the best birthday!" - Kareena

"Jeanell is an angel here on earth. She seeks out those among us who need to be noticed. Her words are so loving and encouraging. She makes others feel noticed, accepted and loved!  Jeanell does quiet acts of kindness that mean the world to the receiver. I love that beautiful friend with all my heart. I hope that goodness and happiness will follow her all the days of her life. She’s an amazing person!  Happy birthday!❤️💕❤️" - Karma

Dad's Death

Three years ago today, my dad passed away unexpectedly from complications resulting from Covid-19.

From January 2018 to June 2019 my parents served in the Boston Massachusetts mission. They spent the duration of the mission near New Haven, Connecticut. I only visited them once, but on that occasion, I and all five of my brothers went and toured Yale and attended the BYU vs. UMass game at Gillette Stadium. I believe BYU won the game, but my main memory of the occasion is that I was very cold the entire game.

As the mission drew to a close, my dad began to itch terribly, and was unable to determine the cause. After returning home and meeting with multiple dermatologists, it was finally determined that the cause of the itching was not any kind of rash or reaction, but was due to a follicular lymphoma. Additional testing and scans showed that it had evolved to Non-Hodgkins Large B-Cell Lymphoma. Four tumors were found in his body, two in his chest, one in his stomach, and another near his right knee. All of this transpired in the tumultuous time of March 2020.

He started chemotherapy almost immediately (his first treatment was April 6, 2020) and had 6 treatments over 18 weeks. Following that, they did radiation on his chest, which in some ways was harder on him than the chemo.

His cancer doctor was extremely worried about him getting Covid, especially with his immunity compromised from the chemo. The doctor insisted that my mom and dad essentially isolate themselves from everyone, which they did.

Following the treatment, and some follow up scans, he was declared cancer-free December 15, 2020. He was told that he still needed to stay in isolation until he could get vaccinated, which he did in February of 2021.

Over the next few months, my parents took advantage of their long-awaited freedom. They visited my dad's oldest brother Dale in Gig Harbor, made a trip back to Connecticut to visit their mission, and went to Hawaii with Al and Meg.

On August 16, the day before their 48th anniversary, my parents went to BYU Education week. The next day they celebrated  their anniversary by attending the temple and eating dinner at Texas Roadhouse, but my dad began to not feel very well. The next day, Wednesday, the 18th, Scott came and tested them and my dad tested positive for Covid.

The 19th, my mom began monitoring his oxygen, but for the most part it stayed in a good range. The 20th, my mom felt like he was improving. At some point over that weekend though, my mom decided to take him into the emergency room at the U. They discussed monoclonal antibodies somewhat, but no one seemed clear on what his eligibility was. The U sent him home with oxygen.

Sunday morning, Dad still had a fever and his oxygen was in the low 90s. Mom said he wasn't taking anything to lower his fever and wasn’t using the oxygen they'd sent home with him because he felt he didn’t need it.

On Monday, Mom tested positive for Covid as well. She felt like she contracted it while waiting in a small room with Dad when they were at the ER. Fortunately, Mom’s symptoms were mild and she never became seriously ill.

On Tuesday, August 24th, my dad said he felt better than he had the day before, but he'd been sweating profusely. We initially hoped that was a sign of his fever breaking, but it also seemed to be a symptom that roughly half of people with Covid were reporting.

On Wedneday, the 25th, my dad's oxygen levels started to drop and I think he could sense that things were getting worse. He finally agreed to let my mom take him back to the emergency room and after they got in the car, she asked if they should go back to the U or if she should take him to Mountain West. He replied that he thought they'd better go to Mountain West. His oxygen had dropped into the 50s while they were driving.

They tried various treatments at Mountain West, but were unable to keep his oxygen up and ultimately decided that he needed to be intubated. My mom was not able to to be with my dad during most of his time at Mountain West and wanted him to be given a blessing. A friend and neighbor, Curtis Ence, worked at the hospital and he and his son were able to administer to him.

After he was intubated, my mom and Brent were able to go in and see him, though he was not conscious. He was going to be transferred into the U, which he was later that night.

With the Covid protocols at the hospital, there were supposed to be two designated visitors and those two would be the only people able to visit during my dad's stay, but somehow, there was some confusion on that first day he was at the U and they just insisted that he could only have two visitors at a time. This was a blessing because all of my siblings were able to visit him that day. My brother Carl and I went in later in the day. He was still intubated and so couldn't speak, but he was conscious and could communicate with us by writing and gestures. While Carl and I were there, he wrote "Am I going to die?" I scoffed and said "No! Not today!" I of course didn't know it at the time, but that was the last time I would see my dad in person.

On Friday, the U tightened up their visitation policy and it was determined that Kevin and McKell would be the two designated visitors. (My mom was not able to visit due to her own recent positive test of Covid). My dad improved enough that they removed the tube, but found that once they did, they had a hard time keeping his oxygen up using other methods.

Carl and I had a previously planned trip with the Jefferies family to go see the Yankees and Athletics play in Oakland that Saturday, the 28th. Not being certain of the severity of my dad's condition and feeling like there wasn't too much we could do in any case, we went ahead on the trip. I remember going to the game and Devin catching a foul ball bare-handed, but beyond that I was monitoring my dad's condition on our family Slack.

Some of what they tried to keep my dad oxygenated after removing the tube were a cannula and mask, but when that wasn't effective enough, they switched to a bi-pap, which was essentially an enclosed helmet that creates pressure. They tried breathing exercises to get him to open his lungs more.

One of the complications at the time is that they wouldn't give him a feeding tube because they were worried he might have to be reintubated and that could make things worse. Saturday evening he did fairly well and with the bi-pap his oxygen had remained at 98 for most of the evening. The nurse had been able to turn down the setting on the bi-pap from 90 to 85.

Sunday they took him off the bi-pap and tried what they called "double oxygen". His oxygen was lower than with the bi-pap, but they wanted Dad to be doing more of the work. He hadn't had a drink of water (he had an IV) for several days and finally on Sunday he was able to have some ice cubes. My dad liked to eat ice cubes under normal circumstances, so this was a real treat. Sunday ended up being a better day than Saturday. That evening he got an orange-flavored Italian ice as a treat.

Sunday night, they put him back on the bi-pap so that he could sleep. The next morning they switched him back to the "double oxygen" configuration with the mask and cannula. That day was a little bit of a plateau or maybe even a regression. Dad got to have some applesauce on this day, but a doctor told him he would likely be in the hospital for several weeks, which I think was disheartening for Dad. But later that night, we got what was temporary positive news that they were going to remove his catheter the next morning. We all thought that must mean significant improvement, but that hope turned out to be short-lived.

The next morning, Mom got a call from the doctor and said they could either put him back on the ventilator which probably wouldn't work or put him on hospice and let him die in peace. The staff at the U still would not let my mom go into visit my dad. They planned a video call to talk through the options for a little later that day.

In the meantime, a new non-nonsense nurse came in determined to save Dad's life. He rolled Dad onto his stomach because that would allow him to open his lungs more. But Dad hated it.

That afternoon, we had a call with a new doctor. She said there would be no point in putting Dad back on the ventilator and that they could continue to treat him as they had been for as long as he was able to fight. She didn't feel the ventilator was going to change the outcome. She put his odds of survival at 25%, but admitted that might be high. We were grateful to her first because she took the ventilator option off the table essentially and didn't force us or my dad to decide whether or not to go back on it. Secondly, while we were on the call, we appealed to her to get my mom permission to come in. I don't know who she went to, but she made the case for my mom while we were still on the call. Kevin, who was at the hospital, heard the conversation and suddenly said "Mom, come in!" Finally, they were going to let my mom go in and see my dad.

Brent, my mom, and I left immediately to take Mom in. On the ride in, Mom let loose with a string of her harshest profanity: "Darn it! Darn it! Darn it!" She was so frustrated to have gotten him through his cancer, just to have him taken by Covid.

We got Mom to the hospital. She went in. At 1:37 PM on August 31, we got word that Mom was finally with Dad. He was awake and they were talking. Dad was still on oxygen at that point, but wanted them to take it off. He said he was done. They were saying their goodbyes.

That afternoon, we had a FaceTime call. Kevin, Brent, McKell, and I were still in Salt Lake near the hospital and went to a park to call. Carl and Alan called from their respective homes. We were saying our goodbyes. I'll always remember that Dad maintained his humor until the very end. When we thanked him for being a great dad, he brought one hand up and moved it side to side, to indicate "so-so." Later, as we were saying goodbye, Alan said "We'll see you soon." My dad’s eyes got big with mock surprise. That call was the last time most of us would talk to Dad.

Following the call, Brent and Kevin and I drove over to Hires Big H to have some lunch. McKell took a break for a bit and came over and met us and the four of us had lunch together. Afterward, we brought some food back to my mom and she and McKell then returned to my dad's room.

My dad fell asleep at some point and when he awoke and saw my mom and McKell still in the room with him, looked surprised, because he assumed he had died.

By this point, he could no longer write so McKell had made a paper with the alphabet and Dad would point to different letters to try to communicate. At some point, Dad became excited and started pointing at "P". My mom and McKell took some guesses, but didn't know what he was trying to say. Dad mustered all of his strength and burst out "President Hales!" He wanted Brook Hales, who had been Mom and Dad's Stake President and was now a General Authority to speak at his funeral. (President Hales graciously did accept the invitation to speak at Dad’s funeral).

My mom returned home hopeful or at least grateful that my dad had made it through another day. But when my mom and McKell went back in Wednesday morning, things had deteriorated further. They took him off the bi-pap and switched to the cannula, primarily for Dad's comfort. Dad squeezed Mom and McKell's hands, but otherwise gave no indication that he knew they were there.

At 9:44 AM on September 1, McKell informed us that they were bringing in morphine. About 15 minutes later, she said they would be taking the oxygen off soon.

After they removed the oxygen, Dad lived for almost another hour. While they waited, the nurse that was waiting with him asked Mom and McKell to tell them about Dad. Mom said that at one point, he opened his eyes and looked up to the corner of the room as if he could see something. He passed away at 12:05 PM.

Prior to Dad getting sick, we had been planning a road trip to go watch BYU play Arizona at Allegiant Stadium in Las Vegas on September 4. After some discussion, we decided we would still make the trip. We traveled to North Sanpete on September 3 and watched my nephew Gabe and his Cowboy teammates defeat the Hawks. We then continued on to St. George, arriving between 1 and 2 in the morning. We attended the BYU game Saturday evening (which BYU won) and made it back to St. George about 3 AM Sunday morning. We got up a few hours later and made the drive back to Grantsville.

We held Dad's funeral and burial the following Wednesday, September 8. Exactly three weeks after he'd first tested positive for Covid.

So why did my dad die? As my family and I have reflected, he had a few things going against him. One is that the type of cancer he had affected his B-cells, which are part of the immune system and produce antibodies when an antigen from a virus or bacteria is detected. So even though he'd been vaccinated and his immune system trained to recognize the Covid virus, perhaps his B-cells weren't healthy enough to produce the needed antibodies to fight the infection.

The radiation treatment he'd had on his lungs to conclude his cancer treatment could also have played a role, by weakening his lungs.

Finally, Dad got Covid in the midst of the delta-variant wave, which the vaccine was not as effective against. At the time he got sick he had been planning to get a booster, but those plans changed when he became ill.

The last message I sent him was the day before he died, just after we'd learned that it was doubtful he would make it:

Dick and Kathy

A week ago yesterday, on August 17, marked the 51st anniversary of my mom and dad's marriage in the Salt Lake Temple.

My parents first encountered each other late in the summer of 1972. My mom had just moved down to Provo to begin her senior year at BYU and had moved into the same student ward that my dad was in. That first Sunday, she attended church and the Sunday School class my dad was teaching. She was immediately impressed, both by his handsomeness and by his knowledge of the gospel.

My dad had taken note of my mom at that same church meeting. At one point, he nudged his brother Paul, who was visiting, and gestured toward my mom, who was wearing what she would describe as a very "Molly Mormon" dress, and said "I want to marry someone like that."

On the way home after church, my mom asked her roommate if my dad was dating anyone. The roommate said that he wasn’t as far as she knew. My mom said “I think I’ll date him.” (Apparently my dad would have no choice in the matter).

But, as is often the case, life had slightly different plans.

Later that day, my dad and his friend Mike showed up at my mom’s apartment to visit. But after they left and returned home, it was Mike who called and asked my mom out.

So over the next few months, Mom dated Mike and Dad dated one of my mom’s roommates, Elaine, often double-dating. (When my mom and dad eventually did become engaged (spoiler alert!), they had each met each other's parents only one time, and both of those meetings occurred during this time period when they were both dating someone else).

It was during these months that my mom became more familiar with my dad's unique and often silly sense of humor. (In his lone meeting with my grandma and grandpa Nalder, which was dinner at their home in Layton, he of course said "If I was a leopard, I'd say that hit the right spot." Unsure if he said "pardon the growth" as he shook Grandpa's hand).

But both of those relationships eventually fizzled out, Dad's with Elaine first and then a bit later, Mom's with Mike. (Mike would go onto marry my mom’s friend Susan, who was the organist when my mom was the chorister in that student ward).

Not too long after that, my dad told my mom he wanted to date her, but since his relationship with Elaine had ended, he had begun dating another friend of my mom's in the ward, Jeanne, and Jeanne really like my dad. My mom was ready with a three-point rebuttal, 1) I’m not interested, 2) my friend who you’re dating is interested, and 3) I’m interested in someone else. (My mom had previously been pretty serious with David, who was away serving in the National Guard, and she was somewhat waiting for his return to see where that would go).

One reason Mom said she wasn't interested was that in the months when they had double-dated, she'd decided she didn’t like his humor. She just found his humor to be silly.

But my dad wouldn’t be put off so easily. He continued to ask. And ask. And ask.

(In college, my friend George and I developed what we called persistence theory, where we'd see guys ask girls out, the girl reject him or not be interested, but the guy just continue to ask, and ask, and ask, and eventually the girl would relent and then they'd get married. I had never really considered that persistence theory had played a role in my own marriage, but looking back on it, I guess marrying your high school girlfriend after she had married someone else and had three kids was pretty persistent).

Eventually he asked if she would just ride to Salt Lake with him to return a tuxedo. It wasn't a date. It was an errand. My mom relented.

Once the tuxedo was returned, Dad suggested getting something to eat (cleverly turning the errand into a date). But Mom was onto him and said she wasn't hungry. My dad insisted and they did stop to eat. My dad ordered a full meal, but my mom, adamant that this was not a date, only ordered jell-o, and she doesn't even like jell-o.

Whether it was date or not, it seemed to break the ice a bit. My dad would just go over to my mom's apartment and hang out. They want to a Stars game (I remember my dad talking about seeing Ron Boone and Zelmo Beaty play). They visited my mom’s grandma in Bountiful.

My dad went on a trip to California with his mom, and talked about my mom the whole drive there and back. Sometime during the trip, he had contracted food poisoning. He called my mom and asked her to go for a walk, but that they couldn’t venture too far from her apartment.

In late February or early March, David returned from serving in the National Guard. He told my mom that he had heard she’d been dating someone and asked if it was serious. My mom said “well I’m not going to marry him.”

But not long afterward, on a late-night walk, my dad asked my mom to marry him, “out of the blue.” (Mom's words). She was taken completely by surprise and replied that she would have to think about it (after all she had just told David that she wasn’t going to marry him).

She remembers returning home and waking her roommates and telling them that my dad had proposed. When they asked her what she'd said or what she was going to do, she said "I don't know." Later that night, she prayed about it and received a very strong confirmation that she was supposed to. (Mom says that the memory of that confirmation helped her through some difficult times in their life together).

Dad followed up a few days later, Mom said that yes, she would marry him.

At the suggestion of a member of the student-ward bishopric, who was a good friend of my dad's, they went to visit my mom's parents so my dad could ask her dad for her hand in marriage. My dad's friend had assured him it would be one of the great experiences of his life.

They arrived at the home in Layton, and after some initial small-talk, Dad said to Grandpa, "I'd like to ask you for your daughter's hand in marriage." Grandpa looked at him without saying a word, then turned and walked out of the room. Grandma, trying to salvage the situation, attempted to congratulate the couple, but mistakenly said, "we're just so happy for you, David." My grandpa eventually returned to the room, but never really acknowledged or responded to what my dad had said to him.

Needless to say, it was not one of the great experiences of Dad's life.

The engagement occurred in March. They planned for an August wedding but Mom first had a trip she had previously planned to participate in the Hill Cumorah Pageant. Dad didn’t want her to go, but Mom insisted and while she missed my dad terribly, she was glad she had that experience. It was on that trip that she first met my dad’s oldest brother Dale. She also attended a devotional in the Sacred Grove, where the Prophet Harold B. Lee presided, which was a spiritual experience she would always remember.

They were married August 17, 1973 in the Salt Lake Temple and had a reception that night at the church building my mom’s family attended in Layton. Jeanne (the last girl Dad had dated before he started dating Mom) made my mom’s wedding dress. A terrible lightning storm that night knocked the power out for 20 minutes or so. There were candles on all of the tables but per church policy they were unlit. But while the power was out someone went around and lit the candles at all the tables.

Their honeymoon was an epic road trip in my dad’s blue Ford Pinto, first to Butte, Montana (where they didn’t arrange a room beforehand and ended up spending the night in a pretty sleazy room, with someone knocking on the door with a stick late in the night), then onto Couer d’Alene, Idaho (where they again didn’t have a room and slept that night in the back of the Pinto, where they froze), then to Seattle, down the Oregon coast, and finally to my Uncle Dale’s home in Sunnyvale where they stayed a few days before returning home. (Dale and his family had attended Mom and Dad's wedding and were still visiting family in Utah).

And so began their life together, a life of triumphs and trials, of heartache and joy.

Voice of the Cowboys

As I completed high school, I remember that my life plan was to become a teacher and to come back to Grantsville and teach math and coach at the high school (this is essentially what my brother Scott did do). Life ended up taking me in a different direction and those plans never came to fruition. I did major in math in college, but never went into Math Education. About midway through my math degree, I discovered computer science, minored in that, and that has ended up being where I have spent my career.

While I did coach my boys a little bit as they were growing up, primarily in Junior Jazz, and all before we moved back to Grantsville, I have never become involved in coaching at the high school like I thought I might and like some of my brothers have (Scott has been involved with football at various points, including this year, and has also coached tennis and cross country and spent the last few years as the school's athletic director, Alan has helped coach football for several years, and Brent runs the clock for football and basketball. At one point, Brent had a rule that if there was a Cowboy athletic event within 45 miles of wherever he lived at the time, he would attend, and famously posted on Facebook when the Cowboys won a baseball state championship the same weekend his first child was born, that the Cowboys winning state was the best part of his weekend. He was kidding. I think). While I attend games when I can and definitely still enjoy supporting the Cowboys, I haven't had the same level of involvement that some of my other brothers have.

But when Scott opted to step down as athletic director to return to the classroom, Aaron Perkins, who had done the PA for football games the past few years, was hired as the new athletic director, which meant they needed a new PA announcer. Scott and Aaron discussed some possibilities and Scott said he would ask me. I got this text on May 24:

Scott (7:34 AM): With Aaron Perkins being the new AD would you have any interest in being the announcer at the football games?

Me (7:35 AM): I don't think so. I just don't want to commit to being at every game.

Scott (7:36 AM): I understand.

Me (7:37 AM): Sorry. I'm just not as committed as Brent.

Scott (7:38 AM): Haha. No worries. Aaron asked if I had any ideas and I told him I would ask you.

That would have been that. They would have found someone else and probably someone who would do a much better job than I would. But I talked it over with Jeanell, and she thought I should at least consider it. I thought more about it and texted Scott back the next evening, May 25:

Me (5:32 PM): So I've thought about it some more and talked to Jeanell and if you haven't already found someone else I'd be willing to give it a try. I don't know what the schedule is. I know I will be out of town September 20 and October 11. I'd only be able to do the varsity games.

Scott (5:33 PM): I don't have the schedule memorized I will send it to you and I will forward this information on to Aaron Perkins and I'll be in touch with you.

Me (5:33 PM): But if they've already got someone, that's great.

Scott responded to please plan on it and they'd make arrangements for the weekend I would be out of town.

Once I agreed to do it, I thought of the people I remembered that had announced games over the years. When I played, it was Teryl Hunsaker. I believe Jerry Hurst took over after Teryl and did it for several years. I remember Dave "Gumby" Gumucio and Don Wayne Nelson, and of course Aaron who had called the last few years. I'm sure there have been others I am missing. A great tradition that I would now have to try to not screw up.

I told my other brothers that I was planning to do it when we were gathered one Sunday evening. Kevin joked that I had a leg-up because I already knew how to pronounce "Mouritsen."

I was in touch with Aaron sporadically over the summer. We arranged for Taylor Schofield (who has helped in the past) and my brother Kevin (Glen) to help as spotters. Scott got me setup with an hour-long online PA announcing class that I watched. But beyond that I didn't really know what to do to prepare. And as the summer wore on, I started to get nervous about it. I was also going to be out of town for the Red/White scrimmage so my first opportunity to announce would be a real game.

That opportunity came about this past Friday when the Cowboys took on the San Juan Broncos (winners of 37 straight games and the last three 2A state championships). I had emailed San Juan's coach (Barkley Christensen) a few weeks ago for help with any pronunciations that I might find tricky. He graciously replied and in our email conversation, I learned that he was born the same year that San Juan ended my own football career when they defeated us in the state quarter finals 24-16 in 1994. If nothing else, this made me feel old.

(He also mentioned that his older brother was on the team that defeated my brother Alan and the rest of the Cowboys in the 1998 state semifinals).

I also told him how I had played in the 1A/2A vs 3A All-Star game that following summer, and that the coach our 1A/2A team was legendary San Juan coach Art Burtenshaw (Art's son Brad, who also went into coaching, was my teammate on that team).

I have to admit that I became quite nervous as game time approached. I printed out multiple copies of each team's roster that I could make notes on, and another sheet of things I needed to say during the course of the game. I arrived at the field an hour before kickoff, found Aaron, and he gave me a quick crash course on how to use the mic, when to make some of the announcements, and his suggestions on how to execute the announcing (always announce the offensive player first, then the defense).

I went over to the booth where the San Juan crew was setup for their broadcast and asked for some additional clarification on how to pronounce some names. I then did the same with Grantsville crew on the other side of the press box. Brent arrived to run the clock, and Kevin and Taylor showed up as well. We quickly came up with a system and decided that Kevin would spot the offense and Taylor would spot the defense. Time went quickly and before I knew it I was welcoming the fans and announcing the national anthem. The game got underway and of course San Juan came out in a no-huddle offense which made it hard to keep up with everything. I could tell I was pretty nervous and I believe the fans could tell that I was.

But as the game went on, I got more comfortable, and began to enjoy it. Kevin and Taylor did a great job of identifying the players involved with each play, and Brent, while doing a great job running the clock, was also a great help at calling out the penalties that occurred (and there were a few).

The game turned out to be a great one, with Grantsville prevailing 36-30, sealing the game with a late interception in their own end zone. (Amazingly, with 11 touchdowns scored, there was not a single successful post-touchdown conversion in the entire game. Both teams tried both kicking and two-point tries, but nothing was successful).

I don't know how I did, but I enjoyed it. The few people I talked to after the game all told me I did well, but what are they going to say? I was anonymously informed during the game that I needed to talk louder (we instead turned up the volume on the mic). But our only real snafu was when I turned off the mic after the game, without first muting the sound system, which caused loud static to blare from the speakers for a minute or so (both Scott and Aaron were trying to call me to tell me what to do to stop it, finally Scott got me to answer).

I don't know if this will be a long-term thing or not, but I had a lot of fun at the first game and am looking forward to the next one. Go Cowboys!