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Show Page A6 the inu8-3n&rpntbf- Thursday, August 10. 2000 nt OURTOW& Community Comments by Sam Taylor My own family owned a 1 pece where Taylor Subdivision now exists There, m addition to a small hay field and corn field, we had ten acres planted in peaches which made us a little money every three or tour years when the frost didn't kill the crop Tending that peach orchard during my junior high and I high school years took a lot of time and effort. loved it Harvesting, however, was mote than we could handle alone, and help was hard to come by That's why, for years on end, my sisters their husbands and kids, all came to spend a few weeks m August They alt helped get the fruit to the packing shed They all brought empty fruit jars which they filled with juicy Moab peaches to take back to their homes in places That's why their children all feel such to this little green valley roots strong My parents had 1 5 grandchildren They now live m California, Connecticut, Texas, Florida, Virginia, Idaho, and Over a very long weekend, beginning last Wednesday reunion we enjoyed a great Florida Visiting us were n.eces from Virginia Idaho and and a nephew from California (who spent his first two days in Moab aiding local search and rescue crews m their hot. Also visexhausting quest for a young lost mountain biker) mm-famil- Miriam iting was my precious, last remaining sister, in Boise home her from Henderson, here We ate a lot of food We visited until late hours each a lot of good old times We sang evening We remembered for w hadn't years We made a pleasant hike sung songs m Arches a h'ke we all loved and Avenue Park through former on family reunions A visit to had made traditionally Grand Valley Cemetery 10 pay respects there, along with of prized Moab cousin Deone Skewes was part the agenda A bunch of the clan floated the daily" on the Colorado We Restauenjoyed a great dinner at the Old Ranch House rant, located in a beautifully restored home built by my giandtather in 1896, on a site settled by his family and adjacent to a log cabin where my own father was born And. of course, we spent our last evening together at Warner Lake in the La Sal Mountains enjoying the cool almost cold mounta.n air along with hamburgers garden vegetables and melon I had a environment The very fortunate growing-uI youngest of five children, had four older sisters Since the sister, than was six years younger actually youngest ended up with five mothers I loved them all dearly Moab, at just over a thousand people, was a great town to grow up in Everyone knew everyone else Religion, politics and other matters that seem to bother us so much today were all secondary then The basic theme was that we were all residents of a village and cared about each other Making a living was tough Almost every business and professional person in town had either a huge lot and garden or a small farm Even the town's lone attorney had a big garden, and could be seen tending it in his white shirt and tie after office hours y Moab yes They have formed a strong cousins bond and keep in and snail mail. Eioht of c'ose touch via telephone, them were here over the weekend My dear sister Miriam and I are the last of the five original Taylor kids except for Adnen, who my sisters immediately adopted as their fifth Taylor girl following our marriage nearly 40 years ago Family bonds are marvelous. I feel bad for those who dont have them A sense of place and a sense of roots are also great Moab Valley and its surrounding canyons, river and mountain have provided those basic ties tor members of my family even though they are spread all over the country They love to come home And we love having them. Next year, we're moving the reunion to McCall, Idaho, where niece, Dr. Knsti Mors, has just purchased her dream home We re already making plans and looking forward to the trip to the northern woods You can bet, though, that along with scouting out northern Idaho, we will still enjoy a lot of great visiting, remembering, food and those old Moab songs we I I all love so much Many Trails by Adrien F. Taylor program. Same principle. Or perhaps one of the classes at the high school wanted to learn something about the properties of the soils in this area. Check the inventory. I won't say whose name will pop up, but we do have such an expert residing here. Requests for lists ot people and their credentials" have already gone out to the major employers in the area. And now we area asking individuals to step forward and add their own names I expect we will all be quite surprised at the depth and breadth of specialized knowledge we have in this little corner of the world. Phi! Brueck and I are the committee working on this project, so information can be given to either o( us, or it can be sent to the Moab Higher Education Center.' 125 W. 200 South, attention Dr. Sharon Ziegler. Please dont be shy and leave your light under the proverbial basket. And please dont hesitate to let us know names of others you think should be in this community The Moab Higher Education Council is currently developing a human resource inventory We are interested in finding out who in Moab has advanced degrees or specialized training or expertise they would be willing to share with others One possible use of such an inventory, of course, would be to have a pool of people who could teach classes for the College of Eastern Utah and Utah State University Such adjunct faculty, as they are known, would have to be approved by the appropriate departments at CEUUSU, which has been something of a problem in years past. That aside, however, the inventory would be useful strictly on a community basis. Suppose, tor example, that the Rotary Club decided to take on a project which required members to master a new computer program. Check the Moab Human Resource Inventory, and bingo, up pop three or four names of computer experts. Or maybe it's the Delicate Stitchers Quilters needing to decipher some fancy new quilt block computer "i Ijc tmcs-3lnbepcnb- mt (UPS) Entered as Second class Matter at the Post Office at Moab, Utah under the Act Second class postage paid at Moab, Utah 84532. Official City and County Newspaper. Published each Thursday at: 35 East Center Street, Moab, Grand County, Utah 84532 6309-200- ail Postmaster: Send changes of Times-lndependen- or FAX UTAH Samuel J. and Adrien Franklin Seal Tom Taylor Ron Flanders Mary Wright Sadie Warner Dorothy Anderson Zane Taylor Circulation Mgr., l Maps T-- Kelly ASSOCIATION We examined elk tracks. There has always been something mysterious about tracks. They are like old love stains upon the heart. Some are vague, tenuous, scarcely visible and subject to speculation about what they might mean. Others are clear and unmistakable. When you see the animal or the old love, the mystery dissolves. Ah, but the tracks! I once listened as my aged grandfather Harris spoke of his love for my grandmother before he got up the courage to ask her to marry him. He said, Why, Id see her tracks in the dirt and I could just fall down and worship them. To which my old grandmother replied, I dont see you worshipping many tracks now. He laughed and said, Its just because you arent making any Come on, mama, lets go run a race." But, I digress. The elk tracks led to the edge of the Contributing Writer Green River Correspondent Castle Valley columnist Columnist Columnist Distribution Three rollovers occur during past week Three rollovers and a that almost cost a man his n life occurred on area highways during the past week. Wednesday, Aug. 2, at 10.52 a.m., a Moab man was injured when his car collided with a pickup at the intersection of U.S 191 and 400 East. Niel K. Johnson was crossing the highway from Jackson Street when he struck the front end of a pickup driven by Lee Shup, of Corpus Christy, Texas. Johnson's car spun, then rolled This accident occurred near 400 East last Wednesday. Photo by Franklin Seal and down toward the Colorado River. The car came to rest approximately one foot from the waters edge. Both women were transported to Allen Memorial Hospital and were treated for injuries. Sunday evening, around 8 p.m., a man was changing a tire on his boat trailer in the right-han-d emernear Cisco when gency lane on a van drifted off the freeway, crossed the emergency lane and clipped the very tire he was changing on the right side of his trailer. The man luckily heard a sound and looked up meets Super Downtown Wal-ma- rt by Mary Sojourner Ericson, Steve Cooper, Bobbie Domenick Backshop Jose Churampi animal. In years past Barbara and 1 have gone to visit the kids and to listen to the elk bugle during the rut. These same bachelor bulls no longer wish to remain so and make a heck of a racket in their quest for cows. Sometimes the kids have to close their windows at night just to get some sleep. And, when you hold one of the little children on your lap and ask, What does the kitty say?" or, What does the doggy say," you can add, What does the elk say?" The answer? Writers on the Range Super Jed Taylor Ken Davey. Betty Bailey. Ron Drake Ron George Oliver Harris el trees. t, PRESS ASSOCIATION Editors and Publishers Systems Manager Advertising Representative News Writer, Sales Mail Room Supervisor Production Manager through a fence and into an adjacent field. He received head and neck injuries and was transported to Allen Memorial Hospital. A Moab woman and her female passenger were injured when the car she was driving rolled early Saturday morning on S.R. 128. A Utah Highway Patrol Trooper said the Honda Accord was westbound at 1 a.m., travelling at speeds of 80 to 85 mph. The driver lost control on a sweeping right-han- d curve about 1.75 miles from the intersection with U.S. 191.. She overoorrected, spun 180 degrees, rolled, hit an embankment on the left side of the road, then rolled again off the right side of the road Fifth-whe- raised garlawn. Tracks led up onto the mother-in-law- s den bed, trailed across it to the stripped leaves and twigs of a small apple tree. Interestingly, they walked right stakes, appast one of those electronic gopher-repelleparently ignoring the irritating sounds it emits. So far, the elk havent done any damage around the kids' houses other than to beat up on the little apple tree. But, the same cannot be said for some of the other area properties. They have destroyed one mans young orchard, tearing down limbs and eating the tender trees. As you drive through the small community nearby you can see all sorts of measures to discourage the elk from getting into gardens and orchards. One fence had slats of lath woven into it so as to protrude high above the wire. An elk could easily jump between the slats but, in the dark, it might think that there was wire strung between them. Others had strung strips of yellow barrier tape such as you see at construction sites or crime scenes high above their wire fences. The elk where our families live remind me of the mule deer in Monticello. It's just that the elk are so much bigger, stronger and hungrier. The elk also present the same risk of collision with automobiles as the mule deer, , except that the problem is multiplied by the size of the High Country News F. Taylor, Associate Editor News Writer near-collisio- -' 435-259-77- NATIONAL NEWSPAPER lfLy Sena T. Flanders of March 3, 1897. When you think of a bachelor group of marauding bulls you don't usually think of elk. But, that is what they are where my twin daughters live about midway between Show Low and Springerville, Ariz. My daughters married brothers and have the great blessing ofliving next to each other in an incredibly beautiful rural setting. Barbara and I were there to visit recently and the elk came, too. The first night they woke up several children who were outside sleeping on the deck. The elk had jumped the fence and were having a grand old time frolicking in the pond. They walked up onto the island where they grazed on the recently installed turf. They came out of the water next to the houses. Early a couple of mornings later there came a knock trailer. A little granddaughat the door of our ter excitedly whispered, There are five bull elk at our house! We grabbed a camera and hurried to see them, but by the time we got there they had faded into the address: editormoabtimes.com P.O. Box 129, Moab, UT 84532 address to: The 435-259-75- Member 0) Elk just in time to run down the embank-- . ment out of harms way. The driver of the errant van apparently fell asleep at the wheel, according to a UHP officer at the scene. The van was towing a car on a dolly; the dolly clipped the boat trailer tire. The van and dolly continued to the right of the trailer, down an embankment and onto fiat desert terrain where the rig spun and came to a stop. The man who had narrowly escaped being run down was travelling with his wife and three children. The children were in the truck towing the boat trailer, the mans wife waa standing nearby; all escaped injury. The driver of the van was cited for improper lane travel. Monday afternoon, a North Glen, Colo, newly wed couple on their honeymoon rolled their rental car on east of Thompson. Diane Cummings was driving west with her husband of two days, Evan, when she apparently either fell asleep at the wheel or waa not paying attention to the road, according to the UHP Trooper who investigated. The car left the highway and rolled two times or more. Wife and husband were both wearing seat belts and escaped with only minor injuries. Things are falling apart in FlagstafT, Ariz. We learn has from inside sources that for a year Super Wal-ma- rt been slouching, rougher than any beast, toward the outskirts of our community. For what seems the zillionth time in five years, we call the zillionth meeting to stop the zillionaires from more like the destroying our town. An exaggeration hundredth meeting, the zillionaires mere billionaires, fortunes worth J. Robson Walton, heir of the only $20 billion. Still, those of us who have loved our little mountain town for a lifetime, or what feels like one since we hit 50,000 and the megneerporations began to move in, know in the words of what we are battling is destruction poet Bill Ehrhart, "coming at us from every point on the compass 24 hours a day, and the destroyers have nothing but time, money and greed..." We, as usual, send our press releases; as usual, put s. up posters; as usual, expect the same dozen Most unusual, we open the library meeting room to three dozen unfamiliar folks. Old. Young. Anglo. Hopi. Retirees. Clerks and pet store owners. Working folks who are fed up with the results of their labor piling up exponentially in other peoples bank accounts far from our home. t, We talk. We listen. We hear that Super upon learning that one of their meat departments had unionized, promptly shut down all their meat departments throughout the country and began to buy prepackaged products. Most of us already knew that many of aisles come from the items sold on the Wal-ma- rt and maquiladora sweat shop labor, but it is news that approximately half of Wal-ma- rt employees are estimated to be eligible for food stamps (the median income of a Wal-maemployee is about $12,000) and that many Wal-ma- rt workers are kept on part-timhours with no benefits. We talk about the growing extinction of that endangered species. Local Business. But, it is not so much the grim facts and figures that catch my attention. It is the woman who announces she cant wait for Super to get here. I live on the east side of town and really resent having to drive to the west side for Wal-ma- rt (a 20 minute drive on a bad day), she says. "And, frankly, I never go downtown. Downtown is only for university people end tourists." I miss much of whats said next, as I remember my afternoon downtown. I am blessed to be neither a uni Wal-ma- rt die-hard- Wal-mar- off-sho- rt e Wal-ma- rt versity worker nor a tourist. I write six days a week, often seven, teach writing Monday and Wednesday evenings. Like most of us who havent gotten lucky, I use my free time to catch up on chores. I am grateful that my years as a divorced and working Mom are over. Those times make an afternoon of errands in downtown Flag-staff seem like play. Id begun at our state credit union, where Petra asked me how my novel was going. I cashed a check and headed over to Macy's, a decades-ol- d coffee house next to a laundromat presided over by manager Mary. I got the wash going and settled in at an old wood coffee and a stack of bills fintable with fresh-roaished both by the time my wash was ready for the dryer. I loaded it, walked two blocks for Dara Thais elred curry, ate and walked to the downegant town post office. The clerk asked me how my novel was going. I stopped in at Winter Sun Trading Post for oslia d by a woman taught by Navajo, Hopi and st five-doll- wild-crafle- Havasupai healers. For ten bucks Porters jeweler fixed the catch on my late Mom's bracelet and attached a charm. I browsed through McGaughs hundreds of magazines and stopped at Pesto Brothers for fresh mozzarella (which cost exThe owner actly the same as rubbery asked me how my novel was going. Mary had folded my wash. For nothing but I stashed my wash in my truck and spent a half hour at Aradia bookstore, gossiping, ordering a book on casino workers, watching the Malamute and rez puppy tangle their leashes. As the light cooled, I picked up mushrooms and garlic for lasagna at Mountain Harvest and headed home. Four hours. A mile of downtown streets. Thirty bucks. A dozen conversations with my neighbors in the coffee shop, at the bookstores, in the restaurant, post office and on the street. Priceless. Sitting on my back porch, eating lasagna, I felt nourished. Not just by silken mozzarella and fresh garlic, but something deeper a sense of being home, in the company of people who want to know how my work is going, and whose work and future, the 24 seven of a local busicorpo-mozzarell- neigh-borhne&- s. ness, is very much my own. Super Downtown, I thought. A center we will hold. t, the battle's just begun. Super Mary Sojourner is a contributor to Writers on the Range, a service of High Country News uww.kcn.org). She lives in Flagstaff, Ariz. Wal-mar- |