January 4, 1996

Governor Michael O. Leavitt

Today we reenacted events of a hundred years past. We have dressed up in clothing of the day and danced where our forefathers danced. But when the celebrating is over, it is important that we remember the things that happened in their hearts as well as what they achieved with their hands.

Preparing for our State's Centennial there has been a parable taking shape in my mind. It springs from an early incident involving my grandfather.

One April afternoon, my grandfather, then 10 years old, was traveling on horseback with his two older brothers. They were making the trek from their sheep camp to town. It had been a hard spring, with severe losses. An unusual number of ewes had died or abandoned their lambs. The boys carried on their saddles about a dozen dogie lambs. The family financial situation made every lamb precious. They were taking the lambs to town so their mother could care for them.

One of those startling spring snow storms that occur in Utah mountains descended with frightening fury. It was blinding. They became disoriented, wet, cold and worried. Wisely, they stopped and built a crude shelter of brush and saddle blankets. They gathered what sticks they could find and with the last of their damp matches succeeded in getting a fire started.

It got dark, very dark. On nights like that the wind is bitter and blows right through you. They huddled with the lambs around the fire but as their meager woodpile dwindled the fire began to burn low. By this time a thick blanket of snow covered the ground, but they had to have more wood.

The older two boys wrapped themselves as tightly as possible and ventured into the darkness for wood, leaving my ten-year-old grandfather to tend the fire. Despite his best efforts, the fire continued to burn down, leaving only the dim glow of the orange and blue coals. Instinctively, he knew if the glow of the embers disappeared, reviving it would be impossible. The fire was their source of warmth and also provided a guide back for his brothers. He knelt by the fire and gently blew again and again upon the embers to keep them alive. The brothers returned, each with an armful of sticks. The fire burned brightly again and they survived the night. He was the youngest among them, but the boy preserved the source of their survival.

The flame of prosperity burns brightly today in Utah. However, a hundred years ago the people of this state struggled to ignite it. Since then it has dimmed at times, but always rekindled because our basic values have been continually nurtured and preserved. For the most part, our people have been self reliant, hard working, responsible, kind and honest. In the context of centuries, those attributes have proven to be the active ingredients that sustain free societies.

These are simple but powerful virtues. Self reliance is nothing more than doing all possible to carry one's own burdens. Honesty is keeping family promises, giving a day's work for a day's pay, rendering one's debts, telling the truth, keeping the law. Human kindness is caring for a neighbor or shouldering another's load.

As we face the next hundred years, during a period of unparalleled change, we can proceed with the confidence that a nation or state acting on these values will have the capacity to care for the truly needy, fund great institutions, foster education and improve the human condition.

But prosperity can also expose a community's soft under belly by breeding complacency, arrogance, and social division. Nations have often been slowly consumed by the burden of those who abuse the power of human creation, mistreat children or spouse, fail in their promises, break the law, or find themselves content to live from the sweat of another's brow. These behaviors destroy a nation culturally, spiritually, economically and ultimately threaten physical security.

Today we celebrate Utah's successes in the last hundred years. But it is also an occasion to examine Utah's role in the next hundred. Utah is not the biggest state in the union nor are we likely to be the most powerful economically or politically. But in a world where many grope for a sustainable core, we can play a vital role.

Utah must be a place of quiet quality, a mentor state, a place where people pass on to future generations the ageless values. Like the youngest brother who preserved the glowing embers until the flame could be rekindled, Utah can be among the places where the world turns to renew its sense of basic values.

Let it be our role to blow upon the embers when the flame dims. Let this be the place where each person nurtures the flame within themselves and willingly passes a torch to another whose fire has gone out. Let Utah be a "keeper of the flame," not for a century, but forever.