Some
people grow up with horses or music, art or cooking, dance lessons, or team sports.
Me? I grew up with a magazine, and looking
back at the last 25 years, I am amazed to see how Blue Mountain Shadows has changed my life through the skills I have
learned, the friends I have met, and the mentors I cherish.
I
was sixteen and a sophomore at San Juan High (1987) when my English teacher Janet
Wilcox told me about a summer job interviewing as part of an oral history
project. I wasn’t the only high school student to help with what ultimately became
Blue Mountain Shadows, but the
process and the people influenced me so much that, years later, I found myself still
caught up in the magazine, first as an interviewer/researcher, then a writer,
and then as the layout and production editor. I am still an avid collector of
every issue, reserving a spot in my personal library for each one.
As I
recall, before the first issue was even in the planning stages, we sat down as
a group (most of us high school students) and chose a topic to research over
the summer. I chose the CCC’s. I had no idea what “CCC” was, and I confess it
took me awhile to learn to say Civilian Conservation Corps (“core” instead of “corpse”). But it sounded intriguing, and no one else
spoke for it, so I took it. The best part of this subject ended up being the
wonderful people I met.
We
prepared ourselves to interview through workshops, where we practiced how to
ask “open-ended” questions (encouraging people to elaborate on a subject
instead of just answering “yes” or “no.”) We also learned how to use a tape
recorder. Believe it or not, what I feared the most was getting half-way
through a really great interview without actually recording anything! We also
did some preliminary research; for example, I looked through interviews that
had already been done in the ‘70s by California State University-Fullerton so I
would be familiar with some of the people involved and know what questions to ask.
People Interviewed
Throughout
that summer, I talked to anyone and everyone I could about the CCC’s—which
turned out to be a government work program of the 1930’s. At first I focused on
the Blanding “camp” (they were set up all over the country): what it looked
like, where it was located (in a four-block area in northwest Blanding along
300 and 400 West), who had been involved (most boys came from back East), and who
had stayed in the area after being discharged. I found out who the local
foremen were and talked to local boys who had traveled to other places to be
part of this same program (you couldn’t sign up in your home town). I tried to
visualize the boys’ circumstances, what they were working on (most projects
involved conservation and natural resources), and what they learned as far as
skills and life in general. Was it a
good program? Would they recommend it
today?
It
was a huge task for a sixteen year old, to make appointments and go into
people’s homes and interview, and then to transcribe the interviews (I’ve never
been a great typist), but I was successful. I had the support of my parents and
my mentors on the BMS staff helping me, and wherever I went people caught the
vision of it and shared their experiences. I think other students’ experiences
were similar; one of my close friends Annette Carroll (Cashin) and I have
talked about the wonderful experience she had that summer interviewing those
involved in the exodus from Old Mexico.
Local
“old timers” also shared experiences and information with me; Lynn Lyman,
LaVell Palmer, and Dave Guymon explained some of the CCC projects, what the
boys’ part actually was, how the division of agencies worked. A plus was during
these interviews they also shared stories about my own grandpa, Lynn Palmer, which
led me to learn more about my own family and to later write an article about
roads in San Juan County.
And
I absolutely can’t forget the interview I had with my grandma, Fern Palmer, and
her lifelong friends Marva Laws and Georgan Burtenshaw. I can still picture them--each
of them in their seventies, sitting there giggling over silly memories of the
CCC boys. They told me stories with such gusto and vividness that I couldn’t
help but be engrossed and transformed back in time. They sang songs: “When the
blue goon has turned to gray again, when the Navy takes the curse away” and
shared pictures they took with the CCC boys when they were all my age. Along with their memories of the CCC’s they
shared impressions of their teachers and stories of several pranks they had
pulled--they enjoyed very much retelling capers such as drying fat snakes for
belts and drinking homemade “hooch”.
As
I went from interview to interview that first summer, the places and the people
began to tie together in a large “family” of people connected through the
CCC’s. I don’t how it happened exactly, but I immediately felt a part of it.
Maybe it was because as we met and talked we treated each other with respect,
kindness and openness, which created a connection even though in most cases
there was a difference of two generations between us. These wonderful, older
and experienced people of our community must have been able to envision what this
newly created organization was trying to do (even in the hands of high school
kids), and what BMS has been trying
to do ever since. As was said by one reader of the very first issue, “This
country has a wonderful heritage which needs to be remembered…I am very pleased
that the history of our San Juan County is considered important enough for
projects of this kind and applaud the efforts of those participating.”[1]
I was pleased to be a part of it.
As
I continued interviewing, transcribing, and reporting back to my mentors on the
BMS staff, we realized that the CCC influence expanded beyond Blanding into all
parts of the county; subsequently, I got the chance to do some traveling. My
mom took me to conduct out-of-town interviews; my dad took me over many dusty
roads to visit first-hand some project sites. This aspect of my experience would
never have been possible without my parents, who helped make arrangements and/or
accompanied me.
Interviewees to the North
Heading
north to the Provo/Salt Lake metropolis I interviewed Walter “Prock” May, a fascinating
man who came from Ohio with the CCC’s and consequently married a Blanding girl
(Alene Jones, who was one of my relatives). Prock shed light on the organization
of the camp with its Army officers, company sergeants and local foremen, and
expounded on day-to-day relationships within the camps and community. I appreciated
Prock’s perspective; I left his home with a bigger picture of the service those
boys provided during that era and the impact of their arrival and assimilation
into the community. I also interviewed my great aunt, Edith Palmer, whose
husband Lawrence was the sheriff in the CCC days. Edith was a beautiful and
stately-type lady in my memory and I enjoyed talking with her not only about
what she knew of the CCC’s but of her memories of old Mexico (which, by the
way, helped my friend Annette, and also brings to mind how many times we students
were able to help each other during the project because we were taught in those
summer workshops to listen, notice details and allow people to diverge and
reminisce).
Next,
I interviewed Karl R. Lyman at his home in Orem about his experiences as a
religious and political leader during the CCC time period (he was the county attorney
in 1935). My impressions of this kind, regal man have stayed with me all these
years—and apparently he remembered me, too, because when my marriage engagement
appeared in the local newspaper in 1991 he noticed it and took the time to
write my parents a congratulatory note and to remind them of our acquaintance
four years prior. What I remember the most about my interview with Bro. Lyman is
gaping in awe at the sheer number of books he had in his possession, particularly
the journals of his father, Albert R., “The Old Settler” of San Juan. I felt
like I had gone back in time and linked to the century prior. When I left, Karl
gave me five books, including his
book “The Old Settler” written in 1980. The books stand proudly in my library next
to my Blue Mountain Shadows
magazines.
Students Write Articles For First Issue of Blue Mountain Shadows
When
I look back at my experiences with Blue
Mountain Shadows, it’s hard to believe they began in high school. Even
though my interviewing “job” ended in 1987, I continued as a researcher and a
writer and completed many other projects. (For example, I interviewed my own
grandparents, and the stories they shared are, in some cases, a great majority
of what we know about them.) I wrote for school and community publications and made
long-lasting connections with many other wonderful people in the community through
other worthwhile pursuits.
When
I graduated from high school and left Blanding for college, I thought my
involvement with BMS might end, but
it didn’t. I walked right into my first college job interview armed with
several Blue Mountain Shadows
magazines and got the job immediately because of my involvement. In fact, I
went to college in the first place on an English Sterling Scholar scholarship
that came about primarily because of the depth of my work with BMS. Later I got the chance to write
additional articles and then to lay out the magazines, eventually putting
together eleven of the issues as the layout editor.
The
influence of BMS in my life continues. Since 1987, my work experience with Blue
Mountain Shadows has been at the core of every resume I have ever put together.
Every article I have since written, every photo I’ve taken, every family
history I’ve prepared, and every blog I currently maintain can honestly be
attributed in part to what I learned in my youth through Blue Mountain Shadows.
Because
I literally “grew up” with it, BMS is
so much more than just a magazine to me. In my youth I was welcomed into others’
homes and taught from their life experiences. From my interviewing experiences
I learned to listen—really listen, not just say “uh huh, that’s nice” at
appropriate moments--and to value others’ opinions. I learned that everyone has
a story, and it is uniquely theirs and irreplaceable. Through my interviewing
experience with Blue Mountain Shadows I also developed skills like remembering
names, dates, and relationships--skills I use all the time when conversing with
strangers who soon become friends.
From
my mentors on the BMS staff I learned you can have different backgrounds and
strengths and all work together on a common cause. I have high expectations of
what I can accomplish because these wonderful people who were my parents and
teachers held me to greatness at an early age. I learned that age difference
doesn’t really matter when your mentors treat you kindly, share their
knowledge, and expect great things from you like hard work and fairness.
The
men I interviewed from the CCC’s were good men. They had families and jobs and
were patriotic citizens. The period of the Civilian Conservation Corps was a
huge adjustment for the little communities of San Juan, and it wasn’t always
easy. Everyone had to adjust their thinking a little to accommodate each other.
Even today, this home of ours can be a place where conflicting ideas and
different cultures collide, but I have great faith in people because of our
past. I really believe if our future is half as good as our history has been,
we will all have grown up nicely.
Thanks,
Blue Mountain Shadows.
====================================
Memories
of the BMS Staff
By
Deniane Gutke Kartchner
I
have wonderful memories of the BMS staff who were my mentors while I was in
high school and involved with the magazine; in fact, they are all still very
important to me.
My
most trusted and loved mentor throughout my life, besides my immediate family,
is Janet Wilcox, managing editor of BMS for 20-plus years. She is a woman who loves
people and worthwhile projects. She works circles around me constantly, and I
will always admire her and look up to her.
She is a very skilled writer and can bring to life the most mundane of
subjects. Back in the early days of BMS, she was, as I mentioned earlier my
English teacher. Janet worked with all
of us students to help us hone our research and writing skills, and she along
with Kathy Hurst as I remember were very instrumental in helping us choose
topics and do our best work. Janet is the queen, the public figure and organizing
force behind so many things, and she has been the glue that has kept BMS
together all these years through her tireless efforts to “get out among the
people” and do the nitty-gritty stuff—write grants, invite guest editors to
edit the magazines, secure printing companies, set up panel presentations. She is amazing, and my dear, dear friend.
(She’s a “kindred spirit,” as Anne of Green Gables would say!)
Every
group needs a scholar—a person in the community whose reputation for published
works gives the group’s projects merit. In
my opinion, that person for Blue Mountain
Shadows is Robert S. McPherson (editor of this issue and of many past).
Now, if Bob didn’t edit this out … my honest opinion of him is that he is a genius.
Whenever I say to myself, “Work hard, do your best work,” it comes from working
with Bob. I have learned to love red
marks all over my paper – it means the person actually read what I wrote with
interest and questions. It means there might be a better way to say something.
It means maybe I should take something out.
When I hear in my mind: “Too long of a sentence. Cut it. Too many small sentences. Combine them,” it comes from Bob. More importantly, Bob is a great
example to me of what it means to be fair.
He has been a stickler for truth in that we should not be content to represent only
one group of people or one side of an issue. In other words, Bob’s philosophy
in my eyes is if you have to choose between “fair” or “flair,” choose the one
that does the most justice to the most people. Bob has worked tirelessly to
help Blue Mountain Shadows maintain
the professional, scholarly reputation he brought to the magazine in the
beginning. His work at the College of Eastern Utah as a history professor and
in other community pursuits has always been an example to me since the first
time I met him through Blue Mountain
Shadows.
Speaking
of editors, I have had the opportunity to get to know many wonderful,
intelligent people because I worked with them as guest editors for Blue
Mountain Shadows. First, K.C. Benedict. I will never forget sitting down with K.C. for
the first time: she was the writing
consultant for the second issue (1988) and worked with me on my second CCC
article. I had typed my rough draft on the computer and brought a printed copy
with me. K.C. came armed to a work table in her living room with several pieces
of white paper, a glue stick, scissors, and a pencil; she used these tools to help
me craft the article together, cutting and pasting sections, leaving out
others, and writing transitions until it became a wonderful piece. Something about this hands-on technique
combined with technology stuck with me and I still use it. K.C. is an extremely
intelligent woman whose ideas and knowledge of printed material, including historic
collections and getting around a library have added to Blue Mountain Shadows
integrity and value. Helen N. Shumway is
another wonderful woman I greatly admire and her contribution to the magazine
over the years is astounding. I worked personally with Helen for months to put
together her book “The First Forty Years: History of San Juan High School.”
Beautiful, soft-spoken, kind, and intelligent Helen.
Next
is Winston Hurst, whose involvement with artifacts and archeology over the
years has made him a legend to me—including the fact that he is the first man I
remember pulling his hair back into a ponytail. I recall meeting Winston during
junior high school when I volunteered at the Edge of the Cedars State Park, and
Winston’s work there, and his commitment to and respect for archeology and
natural history, has been inspiring to me ever since. Every issue of BMS that Winston
edits is solid and full of substance and historical treasures. In my everyday
life, whenever I think of what is the right thing to do to take care of this
world and to appreciate past cultures, I think of Winston Hurst.
Two
more people I can’t leave out: Stan Byrd and LaVerne Tate. Stan is a legend to
me because he used the first Macintosh computer at CEU and was the design guy. (Stan
and my dad Dennis Gutke were always playing with the newest technology.) I
remember him also as the high school recruiter and the one who put together all
of the college’s advertising. For Stan’s part in BMS, I recall that he spent
hours copying pictures for historical collections and he helped put together the
first magazines. I have thought a lot about Stan’s skills over the years. You
can have the greatest content in the world to offer, and no one will even look
at it if it isn’t visually appealing. Stan was really good at putting things
together with a purpose in mind. Seeing
what he did with design and photography encouraged me in these areas, and he was
always helpful to answer my questions and show me cool stuff. The subjects I explored in college were
advertising, public relations and graphic design, most likely a result of
Stan’s legacy.
And
now to LaVerne. At one time in my life I didn’t appreciate photos as history
themselves, but that all changed through my involvement with LaVerne Tate and Blue Mountain Shadows. It is a
tremendous amount of work to gather photos to compliment articles--many times over
the years authors had their own to contribute, but just as often they did not. Pouring through collections, especially in
the pre-computer days, was time consuming and it was LaVerne’s job to see that
the magazines had photos that went with the text. Talking to people,
encouraging them to donate photos to the Historical Commission, manually
cataloging and retrieving photos from collections, LaVerne did it all. She has provided a lifetime of service to the
community through her efforts to preserve photos.
Whenever
I think of LaVerne I also think of Corinne Roring, because they worked together
so often and so well. In my memory Corinne has always been there somewhere
doing something, behind the scenes and yet extremely important. The number of articles she researched and
wrote has left a legacy; her efforts through the San Juan Historical Commission
to secure and preserve pictures and documents have been far-reaching and
monumental. The number of volunteer hours Corinne has put in over the years to
preserve our history is enormous—recently she has been tireless in putting
together the Bluff Fort the same way she has completed so many other projects.
Others
I met who influenced me positively through Blue Mountain Shadows: Gary Shumway,
Jim Aton, Sandra Skousen, Finley Bayles, Rusty Musselman, Gary Guymon, and Mikki
Palmer. I could write a book about the influence of Brian and Silvia Stubbs,
Oliver Harris and Merry Adams (Palmer), with an entire chapter or more
dedicated to Merry. She, like Janet
Wilcox, has shaped my entire life because of her writing talents, her teaching
style, and her fervent example of goodness in our community. To my parents
Dennis and Lurlene Gutke I owe the deepest gratitude for a positive upbringing
filled with meaningful, service-oriented experiences and a love for the people
of my community.
The
mentors I gained through Blue Mountain
Shadows were the age of my parents and grandparents, but they quickly
became my life-long friends. This
connection between generations is possibly the most important benefit I
received from my association, and I’ve noticed whenever a community has it the
youth are happier and seem more confident of their future. My mentors/friends have
influenced me in almost everything I do today, and it all started with a little
organization called Blue Mountain Shadows.
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