(An excerpt from “Fatherhood: The Role of a Lifetime“)

When my parents first married, they settled into a quaint Salt Lake City west-side neighborhood known as Poplar Grove. Two years later I was born and would be followed by two sisters and two brothers.

Our cottage-style home was set among the quiet, tree-lined streets of Poplar Grove and was like a world unto itself. Just a few blocks away on 900 South sat a grocery store with our friendly neighborhood grocer waiting just inside the corner revolving doors to greet us, a walk-up hamburger spot, and a vacant lot here, every December, they strung up white lights and sold Christmas trees.

Right in the middle of all this stood a two-block long park surrounded on all four sides by bungalow houses with freshly mowed lawns.

Brigham Young’s famous quote “This is the right place” was obviously uttered before he ever saw Poplar Grove; however, the phrase fit our neighborhood.

Life there was like 1950s television complete with hand-push lawn mowers and weekly visits from the requisite slow-moving musical ice cream truck.

Our small neighborhood was safe, and each day I walked to school with my friend Gary Jensen.

The mid-century Pioneer Stake Center of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was just a few blocks down the street. This church house was no ordinary place of worship. It was a great gathering place, complete with two full-length chapels separated by a cavernous gymnasium and a lattice-trimmed kitchen where routine pot-luck dinners were the order of the day.

This granddaddy of churches was the site of my first raffle victory—a Thanksgiving turkey— as well as my first train ride on a pint-sized, homemade version with wheels instead of rails and a few too many cars to control.

Our well-meaning conductor boarded us all and then took the first turn down the long parking lot a
little too tight, promptly tipping the entire train on its side.

My memory is a jumble of crying children, the sound of parents rushing in, and the chubby face of my three-year-old sister staring at me as she lay on top of me. But all was well, and our confidence in the engineer was quickly bought off by relieved parents who served us cookies by the gross. Even a five-year-old has a price.

Poplar Grove was the stuff life is made of.

The people there, many of whom were past fifty years of age, loved us, looked after us, and built us. And while we only lived there for the first eight years of my life, the influence of our neighbors and neighborhood was incredibly impactful and they all had a profound effect on my life. To this day, the memories remain fresh in my mind, and I often find myself driving through the streets of Poplar Grove.

In fact, while enduring a difficult trial, I returned to Poplar Grove, perhaps looking for some of the peace the place had always brought me. As I stopped by and visited with one of my old friends, by then an elderly widow, my heart was lifted, and my joy was full. Poplar Grove still held its magic.

As I drove home that evening, my mind was flooded with thoughts of the many people, experiences, and lessons that had touched my life. I thought about my young father in Poplar Grove, what a giant he was, and how he had shaped my life.

And I thought about how much I wanted to do the same for my young children. Just as the wonderful people from Poplar Grove shaped my life, we can also be an influence for good.

My life has been enriched by grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, neighbors, and others, not to mention, my own wonderful parents. We each can build others in our own way and, hopefully, leave things and people better than we found them.

As I have studied those who have gone before me, I see grandparents and great grandparents who, at great risk, left all they had to seek something better for their posterity.

I see patriots who saw something better and risked all they had and faced down the world’s greatest military, Great Britain, to give their posterity a chance at something better.

Since that time, I have seen men and women go into unknown battlefields and risk their lives to protect that was given to them.

I see pioneers who sacrificed all they had for the opportunity to believe and worship God. Our lives are built upon the foundations of faith, sacrifice, contribution, service, hard work, and a love for family and those yet to come. We enjoy what we have today by standing on the shoulders of so many from the past.

It is now up to us, to continue to preserve and persevere in these noble causes.

In the selfish and fractioned world we live in, I offer today’s final reflection from Poplar Grove; “What will your contribution be?”