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Show The Six Minute Version of the Origins of The Zephyr By Jim Stiles Last December, as I looked ahead to Spring 1999, the idea of a "10th Anniversary Issue” seemed like a good iden. After all, it’s been ten years and The Zephyr is still standing among the ruins of New Moab. And I’ve seen other publications commemorate anniversaries in a similar fashion. So I penciled it in and went off and did absolutely nothing for much longer than I should have. Then I came back to Mob and was gripped by the thought: Who gives a rat's butt in a garbage can that this rag has survived a decade? Even I feel more relieved than joyous. But it was too late to change the theme and so, for better or worse, here's a short version of how The Zephyr came to be... that John. More than anyone Ed Abbey encouraged me to take a leap with The Zephyr and to show As cynical as incredible period down a proposal town. We didn’t somehow took the time to keep his word—-nobody’s word has ever been as good as Abbey’s. this publication might sound most of the time, The Zephyr was born in an of hope and optimism. In 1988 Moab and Grand County citizens voted to build a toxic waste incinerator near Cisco, thirty miles upstream from just defeat the plan, we stomped it into the ground. his enthusiasm, Ed promised me an original story for the first issue. In late February, true to his word, a large envelope arrived with a short article called "Hard Times in Santa Fe." But it came with an apology; Ed explained that while the enclosed piece had never been published, it really wasn’t what he had in mind. But he was rushing to finish Hayduke Lives! and promised to send another Zephyr-exclusive just as soon as he could. The truth was, Ed was dying and he knew it. Still, with all the other burdens Earlier in the year Grand County Commissioners enthusiastically embraced the incinerator and when citizen concerns fell on their very deaf ears, a movement was born, in NY roe CA yn COL that were upon him, he ee 7TEPHY® every sense of the word. If enough signatures could be gathered, the issue could be forced to a vote in November. Petition tables sprung up all over town and what I noticed more than anything was the diversity of people who shared this common concern. Ladies from the senior center stood shoulder to shoulder collecting signatures with dreadlocked volunteers from the Moab Coop. It was amazing. On election day, the vote to stop the incinerator was a 2-1 landslide and the commissioners who supported the incinerator were handily defeated as well. I don’t think this community has ever been as united as it was on that day. We were a community of Mew! pon apr LOY Volune ep I Number ap cents broad and varied backgrounds and interests, bound together by a concern for the quality of our lives. And it was in that spirit that the idea of producing a monthly Moab-oriented periodical was born. Driving along Mill Creek Drive one day, right in front of the old K-D Second Hand Store, the name zephyr popped into my head. Don’t ask me why, but it stuck. Thad no money. I don’t exaggerate. But I proceeded anyway and circled March 14, 1989 on my calendar as press day for Volume 1 Number 1. I managed to persuade about a hundred friends to take out a subscription, sight unseen, and many of the advertisers agreed to pay in advance. With that money I was able to pay for the first press run. Bill Benge, now Grand County Attorney but who was in private practice at the time, offered the use of his computer and his secretary, Trish West, agreed to do the typing. I could not type at all. And if you can believe this, for the first three years, everything I wrote for this paper, I scribbled on yellow legal pads and gave to Trish (and later Gary and Susan Clum) to decipher. Once the galleys were printed out, there was no chance of fixing typos—-we all had to live with them. Finally I had Gary type up a page of individual letters and numbers in various fonts and sizes. When I found a mistake, [’d carve out a letter with an exacto knife and attempt to overlay the wrong character with the right one. My eyes have never been the same since. n I contacted the county commissioners and the mayor and the city council and proposed that we conduct a series of interviews each month. They were agreeable to the idea and for the next six years, I sat down with that motley crowd of Moab politicians on a regular basis. Sometimes it was enlightening. Sometimes it was boring as hell. They were lucky in that they only had to sit through the interview once; I had to come home and transcribe the tape. It was always more painful the second time around. I wanted The Zephyr to have some balance when it came to the political spectrum and so I approached two of Moab’s best loved idealogues---Ken Sleight, legendary river-runner environmentalist and John Sensenbrenner, legendary burger-maker conservative. It made for some pretty interesting reading, although to this day I regret that I censored and refused to print one of John’s early essays. He had written a story about nose-picking and the various ways Moab citizens went about it. I thought it might damage the sensibilities of some of Moab’s more easily-offended and refused to let BurgerBurner’s keen observations make their way to print. A decade later, after a year of Monica and Bill and every sordid detail imaginable played world-wide on the Internet, a little nose scouring saunds pretty tame. 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Plan a “get-away” that will really take you away from it all... —=_/ On March 14, 1989, with enough advertising to support a 28 page edition and with some of the ugliest type that a ball jet printer can produce, I took the finished boards to Cortez News in Colorado, where Chief Press Man Larry Hauser did his best to make my sorry little first effort look as good as possible-—he’s been performing miracles ever since. Silk purses out of sows’ ears. I believe I printed 1500 copies for that first issue and managed to squeeze them all into the trunk and back seat of my ‘63 Volvo. When I arrived home that afternoon, I was lugging the first box of Zephyrs from the car when my friend Jean Akins pulled up in front of the house. She had some news for me: Abbey had died that morning near Tucson. I can barely remember the rest of the day. I was utterly bewildered; no one has ever had a greater influence on my life than Ed Abbey. I doubt it would have ever occurred to me to start an environment-based newspaper had it not been for Ed. Now on a day that had begun with such hope, I felt lost without my hero. And that is exactly what Ed was to me. And my friend. I spent the evening with Sleight and practically forgot about the Zephyrs. My good friends, the Knouff Family, got the papers out on the newsstands and mailed the meager stack of subscriptions for me. And that is how The Zephyr was launched—it was a very bittersweet day. vWN ona The Tibetan Monks (ALASKA! CHARTER AIR SERVICE BEACH 6 GLACIER LANDINGS GLACIER BAY NATIONAL PARK will be performing and lecturing at Boulder Mountain Lodge from: April 24-28 ttle huh ere Main Performance: April 24th Saturday at 3PM MOUNTAIN FLYING SERVICE Paul Swanstrom _ P.O. Box 1404 Haines AK 99827 907-766-3007 in Haines or 1-800-954-8747 |