OCR Text |
Show Free Press - Wednesday, January Editorial Conservation will be next water project Utah's next major water develop ment project may well be one which focuses on conservation rather than construction. At least, that is the conclusion of a report from the Utah Foundation, a private research organization that focuses on public policy, And while many communities in North Utah County are working on improving conservation, it may well require an even greater effort to maintain our quality of life and water while living in what is basically a desert state. With the nearing completion of the Central Utah Project, and plans underway to develop water resources along the Bear River in northern Utah, the state is almost out of major water resources that can be developed. In fact, some controversy developed over the CUP's construction of the Jordanelle Reservoir, based on possible disputes over the water that would be stored in the new reservoir. Opponents argued that the reservoir would be filled with water that had already been allocated, while the CUP assured water owners that only surplus water would be used to fill the new reservoir. That "surplus" water is at the heart of much of the current water concern - Utah has not had any surplus water for several years. And while the current water year is still uncertain, the drought has so depleted our lakes, reservoirs and underground aquifers that water year. That doesn't mean we are facing an immediate crisis in 1993 -- but as Utah's population grows and our water sources available through development are tapped out, Utahns are going to have to look at ways to conserve water. n We can all help, but following water conservation practices in our homes such as taking shorter showers and restricting the water used in but actually relaflushing toilets tively small amounts ofwater are saved this way. Some of our North Utah County communities have taken more effective steps such as the dual water systems usedby Lehi and Lindon. Highland is also considering a dual system. Such systems use water smarter, conserving high quality water by using lower quality water for irrigation and other uses that don't require water that meets culinary standards. Better irrigation practices will also be a part of a water conservation plan that will make a real difference. The ditches and flood irrigation of our pioneer ancestors don't meet the needs of the state's growing population. Other methods will also be part of this water development project such as landscaping that doesn't require so much water and a water pricing structure that will encourage people to water their lawns more frugally. Once we have developed our water resources, conservation will remain some communities may face water reour best alternative to water developstrictions in 1993 even if we have an ment in the arid west. above-averag- e well-know- - - - -- the crossroads: We all decide where life leads At As I look out of my kitchen window to the east, I am awe struck by the beauty of the mountains. The snow is like a mantle of purity. I cannot think of any thoughts that are not good as I review this scene. My thoughts are more relaxed than they were once as a boy. I think back to a day in my native Wales when I climbed to the top of Rhysog Mountain and gazed down into the valley. I could see the rows of houses with smoke ascending from the chimneys. On the far hillside a field of gorse was in bloom, yellow as the petals of the daffodil. The tin works reservoir was as still as a mirror except when a trout rose for a fly, leaving a circle of rings that turned to silver when touched by the sun. It was a peaceful sight but my thoughts were not peaceful. I lay in the friendly heather and watched a lark soar into the sky. My thoughts were of life and where the pathway would lead me. My mother had died a couple of months before and the world had lost some of its beauty. My father was a good man and knew the scriptures well, but he didn't talk to me about the pathway of life and where it would lead me. Oh yes, there was a girl. Her name was Gwyneth. In a poetic mood I said her eyes were the color of heather blossoms and her hair dark brown like beech nuts in autumn. But we were just friends. She would never know that I would carry her image in my heart all of my life. The heather was soft and the day was warm. A day for dreaming, but my dreams were troubled. I loved the hills and the brook in the vale, but I would not forge a career out of these. I reckon I should have counted my blessings. My friends Davey Edwards and Snooky Chislett were in the Glanshon Cemetery, victims of the coal mine, but I was still alive. I was working at the steel works as a grease monkey. Each payday father took 6, 1993 - Page 2 Christmas spirit abounded this season If there was ever a year when the Christmas spirit abounded it was this year. I personally had two Christmas elves leave the 12 days of Christmas at my door and it was a rich and rewarding experience. The fact that Candice and Becky chose me to be the recipient of such wonderful gifts was a gift in itself, one I shan't every forget. Thank you, thank you. I'd also like to thank the elves who've been cleaning my walks for me. Each time it has snowed, someone has cleaned the paths from my kitchen door to my car. Each time the snow has fallen, my sidewalks have been shoveled until the path is clear and safe. Again, thank you elves, thank you. friend told me, in the most manner, of their Christmas Eve. They had just settled down for a lovely holiday evening. They'd waited dinner because their nephew was coming down from Ricks to join them. He didn't come and didn't come. They were just going to give up and have their dinner without him when the phone rang. Their nephew had crashed his car and he was in Tremonton hospital. He would be released so would they come and get him Then my matter-of-fac- t Kid You'd Bselieue By BETTY FOWLER it shows no sense on snowy slopes son ski heedWatching my lessly down a mountainside was, as the man once said, like deja vu all over again. Seth, like his five sisters, got skis for Christmas. Seth, unlike his five sisters, figures that after a few trips to the ski resorts, he is ready for a shot at the Olympics. Never mind he has yet to master the art of turning he can go fast and that is all that matters. During a recent trip to Park City , the kid got impatient with a little bit of terrain and dropped into an imitation of a racing tuck. "Stand up," I told him. "You don't ski well enough to tuck yet." "Sure I do," he said, "See?"and zoomed ahead of me looking for a steeper slope. He soon found one and zoomed down that one, Any time, any place, we were ready to put on our skis. We would hike up hills just The so we could ski down. My parents were strapped to keep up with my ski habit -comingupeach Christmas with more elaborate equipment including a pair of Head metal skis that were the hottest things on the hills at the time. I asked for virtually every Saturday off from work at my fathers grocery store so we could ski Beaver, or Alta, or Brighton or - Editor's - Column :& f By MARC HADDOCK I wherever our wanderlust took us. My friends and I approached getting to the hill the same way we skied once we got there - recklessly and with little common sense the same way Seth skis, come to think of it. At Jackson Hole, we would take the tram to the top of the hill, and then race it down so we could get in line for the next ride up as well. McKay Sleight fainted on the tram ride up after about three such runs in a row. Looking back, I think skiing defined my teen years as much as anything else I did. And I still love it. I can't believe so many people here in Utah live surrounded by some of the "Greatest Snow on Earth" and have never put on a pair of skis. And it thrills me to see my son finding that same kind of exhilaration and joy from an activity that I have enjoyed so much. After watchinghim zoom ahead of me all afternoon, I finally took him on a run I know would challenge his budding skills. But he gamely launched himself down the run, fallingfour or five times before we got to the release. You would break off your leg before you got the boot off the binding. The first time I strapped them on, I was almost thrown off the hill, since a few years before release bindings had become required too. equipment on the ski slopes. I kept trying to catch up to him to tell him It was the early 60's, and the ski industry he was out of con trol and skiing in a reckless was booming, and I felt like I was getting in fashion - but by the time I got to him he was on the ground floor of a great adventure as at the bottom of the lift waiting for another I got on the chair lift at Beaver Mountain's ride to the top. beginner hill and headed up for my first And he figured as long as he was still run. A wise ski patrolman saw my substanstanding and in reasonably good health no broken bones or anything - why was I dard equipment and sent me to the ski shop making such a big deal about the way he where I rented skis with release bindings. skied? And I never looked back. It's hard to remember that I used to be I don't think I was dropping into a racing like that. tuck that first day or the day after. But it Of course, I lefrned to ski in the olden wasn't long before my friends and I were days. I learned to do everything in the olden trying every crazy thing we could think of on skis. days, if you ask the kids. We would take off through the woods, My first pair of skis were from someone I didn't know. They maneuvering around trees just to ski snow were made of wood and had no metal edges. that hadn't been tracked before. At the end The boots were worn and made of leather. of the day, we would ski down the back of The bindings were of the bear trap variety the resort, sendingone member of our party guaranteed to break a leg on the first down the regular hill to get the car and to major fall, since there was no possibility of retrieve us from the canyon. - -- poMfsinti hand-me-dow- '1 By TOM GRIFFITHS I my wages to help support the family. On Saturday he gave me a shilling, enough for a seat at the picture show and a bag offish and chips. Recently I had read an article in the South Wales Argus that interested me. It was about Australia. The British government had developed a program whereby those young men who were interested could emigrate to Australia and the government would pay their way over. So I studied about Australia. I learned how the British government sent criminals to settle this country, that was one way of getting rid of them. But the country was new and there were many opportunities there. As to my job at the steel mill, in a few months I could transfer to the hot mill where theredhotbars were rolled. Here the work was hard and hot and the mill men bucked up their lives by drinking lots of beer. They were old men by the time they reached 50. This career was not for me. So, here I lied soaked in warm sunshine in a scenic area that I shall forever love, wondering where the path of life would lead me. For someone who genui nely cares about animals - the beautiful ones in our forests and the pitiful ones in our shelters - it is painful to concede that some animals prey on other animals even as some Pool -- humans do. I must convince myself that it "is not what dies but how." Where dying is inevi- eujs C 1991 Los Angele Time Syndicate agement people insist the wolf population explosion must be curbed, he and they are condamned as "merciless killers." I've known Wally Hickel for 30 years. He is not a merciless killer. He is not even a hurter. What he has done in deference to the important tourism industry in his state is to make properly licensed hunting available. But you h ave read or heard, "He wan ts to shoot wolves from airplanes, to bloody bottom. . "So, do you want to go back to the easier stuff?" I asked. "No. Let's try that again," he said. Ah, a kid after my own heart! death is a death An officer's By JOSEPH WALKER There was a death in the family last month. Not my family. Our family. And we're all the poorer for the loss. His name was Joey, but folks called him lots of different names - some respectful, most not. Joey was a law enforcement officer a highway patrolman. For as long as anyone could remember he had always wanted to be a copy. And not because he was into guns, adventure or authoritarianism. No, his reason for wanting to wear a badge was much simpler and much more pro-- - found. Joey just wanted to help people. At least, that's what he told his mother when he first declared his intention to be a policem an some 20 years ago when he was just four years old. She said she was driving with her young son when he noticed an elderly woman struggling to make her way across a busy intersection. Joey watched her and worried about her. Arid then he announced that he needed to become a police officer so he could "take care of shoot Rin Tin Tin? table, purposely cruelty is inexcusable. Alaska's Gov. Wally Hickel has a problem. In a small portion of the state, proliferation of the state's wolf population has overtaken and is depleting the remaining moose and caribou. Yet, there appears no way to diminish the number of wolves without exciting who the compassion of humane-itarian- s equate wolves with Rin Tin Tin. And without inciting to riot some animal rights professionals whose contributors would not contribute unless periodically horrified. If militant environmentalists and the politicians and judges they can intimidate had had this much clout about a generation ago, there would never have been an Alaska pipeline. Now, when the state's wildlife man- - - because his car was totaled. Betty andVern bundled up, started their car, and Christmas Eve or no, they headed for Tremonton. The roads were not good, but they found the location they were seeking and they collected their nephew and a friend who was a passenger in the crashed car, and headed south again. They dropped the passenger off in Salt Lake, and returned home. By now, it was almost Christmas morning. They ate their Christmas Eve feast, after a quick warmup, and bedded down for the night. There was nary a word of complaint, nary a word of recrimination, nary a word about inconvenience. Just the opposite, in in everybody's grandma." Which is exactly the kind of thinghe was doing when he was killed. He stopped to help a stranded motorist on an interstate freeway and was trying to slow traffic to reduce the danger to driver and vehicle. He was struck from behind by a pickup truck. Not exactly "movie of the week" material, is it I mean, usually when we hear about police officers being killed in the line of duty we think of high speed car chases, daring rescues and dramatic gun battles. But if you ask law enforcement veterans, they'll tell you that the most dangerous things they do are often the routine assignments: intervening in a domestic dispute, patrolling a troubled neighborhood, responding to a silent alarm, busting someone for being drunk and disorderly. Directing traffic on a crowded interstate. Still, they do it because it's all part of the job. Because somebody has to do it. Because they're cops. And because they want to help people. Of course, there are also some bad cops with bad attitudes, just like there are bad s investment bankers, bad and - believe it or not - bad newspaper columnists. But investment bankers aren't taunted and ridiculed by the very people s don't they are sworn to protect. face the daily pressure of knowing that any mistake they make could ruin a life or end up as the lead story on tonight's newscast. And newspaper columnists don't put their lives on the line every time they belly up to the word processor. But police officers do. Every day. And they do it willingly. "Joey always told me that if he lost his life as a policeman, it meant he died doing what he loved most," his mother told hundreds of mourners - many of them in uni brick-layer- You dare fact. They acted like it was atypical Christmas experience. Well, I guess they are right. It was an act of love, and that's what Christmas is all about love. Our Christmas families received all they asked for and more people were so generous this year! Jane and I cruised Main on New Years Eve. Callie informed us when it was midnight. The New Year was here! We rolled down the windows of the car and yelled, we honked our horn, we hurried home. My neighbors, The Beechers, wereoutside hooting and hollering. The town was noisy. There were gun shots, there were horns and bells ringing. There were all kinds of noises out there. The sky was dark and the stars were twinkling as if in the pleasure of the occasion. We laughed and screamed our Happy New Years greetings amidst the echoes of the other noises in the distance. I missed Gaylon's firecrackers, but it was a memorable New Years because of my loved ones being with me. I had a ball. Happy New Year to you too. Hope all the good feelings of brotherhood will be in full force for the rest of 1993. Love ya, and you'd better believe it. -- -- the pristine snow with animals left to die in agony!" A television story claiming as much appeared on stations as far away as China! As governor, Hickel is further obligated to protect the state's moose and caribou upon which the native Alaskan depends to feed his family. The wolf population in the lower 48 states - once abundant is now virtually nonexistent. The population of wolves in Alaska is between 6,000 and 8,000, which - -- is healthy and abundant. In only five percent ofAlaska are there "more than enough." That is where the population must be managed. So Alaska has offered harmlessly to trap its surplus wolves and ship them to any other state that wants them. For all the hue and cry about "save the no wolves" from ecological crusaders state will take them. There is to be "wolf summit conference" Jan. 8 in Fairbanks. Gov. Hickel does not want wolves shot from airplanes. He is willing to listen to any suggestions, including yours. - 16-1- Brick-layer- -- the family - who came to pay their last respects to a fallen comrade. "I ask you to be happy for him." But it's hard to be happy when it feels like we've lost a big brother not in the Orwellian sense, mind you, but rather in the sense that Joey was the kii. of person you hope is coming around thecorner whenever you come buckle with Trouble. And it's hard not to look at all of those uniformed big brothers and sisters at Joey's funeral and not be sobered by the harshest of all realities for a police officer: that it could have been them. And that tomorrow it might be. Perhaps that's why the governor and the were both there, not to mengovernor-elec- t of dignitaries, friends and tion a chapel-fumedia representatives. That's why we were all there spiritually if not physically, even if we didn't know anything about Joey or his tragic death. We huddled together against the penetrating cold of a winter day while a lone piper played "Amazing Grace." We gathered silently near row after row of solemn officers, who stood at respectful attention while seven police sharpshooters fired off a salute. And we wiped away a tear as members of the honor guard presented Joey's young widow with the flag that had been draped over her husband's form - face-to-b- elt ll - 21-gu- n coffin. We were there out of respect for Joey -and, for that matter, for every man and woman who accepts the risks and responsibilities of police service. We were there because we honor who they are, what they are, what they stand for and what Joey died for. But mostly we were there because, when it comes right down to it, we're all in this together and we need each other -especially our big brothers and sisters. We're family. And this was, after all, a family funeral. Christmas family says, Thanks' Editor: full. We'd like to thank whomever it was who made our Christmas such a memorableone. The gifts for the children were and there is a certain sense of security when the kitchen cupboards are Someone's kindness and generosity will never be forgotten. Thanks again. well-chose- n, -- A Christmas Family |