When I Knew LaVoy Finicum

He was not an anti-government radical in Santa Fe, New Mexico in the late 1990s. In fact, he wasn't even a Cowboy. Sure, he spoke with a Southern Utah drawl. And he talked about getting down to the family ranch, but there was no hat, no guns; maybe he did wear the boots.

I was his bishop in the Santa Fe Ward of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He was a good and kind man who then was taking in foster children with his third wife - sequential, not concurrent - an important distinction.

No one on the earth is perfect except for the One we look to for eternal salvation through His infinite Atonement. LaVoy and I as his bishop did some work together on his soul because after two divorces, he wanted to be sealed in the Temple to his wife. That took some effort for church clearance. We went through extensive interviews and LaVoy engaged in sincere efforts to repent. I was required by the Church to correspond and speak with his former spouses to ensure that he was fulfilling any and all family obligations and that they saw no objection to his temple sealing. The bottom line is that I knew as much as anybody could about him at that time. What I knew was that he was a kind and simple soul who wanted to move beyond his mistakes.

My Friend, Kokopelli

Imagine my surprise when I went to the reception at the Philmont Museum/Bookstore and noticed this great book on Kokopellis of the Southwest and opening it, found a section on the Kokopellis at La Cieneguilla (Santa Fe Canyon) where I helped BLM secure some property for public access. (You're welcome.)

Downtown Mormon Lunch: Fun & "Weightier Matters"

Two things came together in my normally confused brain this week as I sorted through them for some sense. First, my "manifesto" the other day led me to a fascinating discussion on my Facebook link to that blog post with some Brazilian friends and I jumping between English and Portuguese in a discussion of the U.S. Constitution. Good thing I know how to switch my keyboard back and forth for the right accent marks, etc. That ended with a Brazilian friend, now U.S. Citizen (I believe) asking me if I knew any of the First Presidency or Quorum of the Twelve who were Democrats. The late, and Portuguese-speaking, James E. Faust was the only one I knew for sure in modern times. He had served in the Utah State Legislature and had been Chairman of the Utah Democratic Party so it was rather obvious. I'm sure there are others, they just keep those sort of things rather private if they haven't been in political office as part of their public life before their calls to the presiding quorums of the Church.

Not Knowing Beforehand . . .

There was one whole day in my life where I was pretty sure I was guided by the Spirit. And I can pinpoint by date it as it was our wedding anniversary some years ago when I was bishop. Yes, another bishop story, but it's essential to understand the context. And at least part of it sort of came out in High Priests Group this morning.

For reasons that only became known later, my wife and I had decided to go the night before our anniversary to stay in a bed and breakfast we liked between Santa Fe and Albuquerque. The plan was to sleep in, then spend our anniversary day in Albuquerque doing some shopping, eating out, and seeing a movie before we went back home to our six kids. It sort of turned out that way.

Brother Udall's Home Teacher

Well, he didn't really see me that way. And we didn't follow any traditional practices. In fact, it was more of a developing friendship - just the way it should be.

Stewart Udall 1920-2010. Secretary of the Interior 1961-1969

Running the Galisteo River in Search of the Mormon Battalion Route

I finished last night's posting pretty late with the reference to running the Galisteo. When I thought about it this morning, I realized that was sort of an inside joke if only in my subconscious because, well, I wasn't exactly talking about white water adventures. As I started out with my love and respect for the rivers of the Pacific Northwest, the Galisteo isn't like them. I suppose the Santo Domingos appreciate the huge, monstrosity of the Army Corps Engineers Dam, because there have been flash floods that washed away parts of the ancient Pueblo which has been moved based on those floods. And I am sure there may be 500- or thousand-year floods that might actually float a boat. But in my experience, the Galisteo was for trail-running - on foot. Please note that the information for the recreation site above indicates no "water sports" "fishing" or even "drinking water." Remember, this is New Mexico.

We Explore the Battalion Route on Public Lands, Then I Help the US Give it back to the Santo Domingos

If you look closely at that map from the last posting, the route pretty much follows modern roadways with the glaring exception of that 24-mile, near marathon day from October 20-21, 1846. And if you look even closer, there is one very interesting geometrical configuration, a triangle, the apex of which points sideways, sharply at San Felipe Pueblo close to the number 21, and the narrow base of which is State Road 22 that intersects with the dark, thick line of the route right at another intersection of a broken line that forms the southern boundary of Santo Domingo Pueblo. I thought that might be a point on a map that I could find in real life.

The first time out there with my boys, and there were a few more to follow so I get the trips a little mixed up, I found the spot right on because the diagonal line at the top that intersects with SR 22 is the fence line of the Santo Domingo boundary. Just east and south of that intersection, I pulled over off of 22 and noted that yes, just to the east looked like ruts that went onto Santo Domingo. I did not go that way respecting the Pueblo's land. So I turned to the west on the BLM public lands portion and looked for something on the other side. It was a large, flat space, empty of vegetation other than course grass. I wandered a bit and got over to the edge where it dropped off into some piñon/juniper, and there it was! The old Camino Real that comes all the way up from Chihuahua City to Santa Fe and beyond to the first Spanish Settlements at San Juan, now, Ohkay Owingeh in its original Tewa name.

In which Marc Simmons and the Utah State Historical Society Come through for me.

Marc Simmons is a great guy and one of many interesting characters in New Mexico. I think per capita, New Mexico may outdo California, New York and even Utah for its eccentric characters. Simmons is a great popular historian who writes to explain things to regular people rather than impress the academic crowd. He lives fairly close to Santa Fe but rather far in an "off-the-grid" sort of way. At least when I had my minimal contacts a few years ago, he had no electricity, computer (a manual typewriter kind of a guy) or even a phone.  He picked up his mail at the newspaper office in Santa Fe, where I had left my letter, and with no moral aversions to the telephone (he just preferred not to have one) he gave me a call when he was in town.

 About the same time, I had come across a publication by Utah State Historical Society which was a detailed study of route of the Mormon Battalion Trail. (Yippee!)

Kokopelli Helps Find the Battalion's Way Down La Bajada asking the valid question, "Where's Waldo?"

Santa Fe occupies a beautiful location beneath the south end of the Sangre de Cristo, the Blood of Christ Mountains. However, it the old days, it wasn't that easy to get there. Between Albuquerque and Santa Fe is a very interesting escarpment called La Bajada, "The Descent,"or as I like to translate it, "The Big Downer." Going up is usually the problem as we found trying to make it up I-25 in our old Ford Escort, not a great ride even when coasting downhill. And the freeway climb, while steep, is much better engineered than the original highway demonstrated in this vintage postcard a friend gave me.