As a young boy, fire trucks held quite a fascination for me. I marveled at the big red engines on school trips to the station. As an energetic fledgling news photographer, I slept with a scanner to chase the red lights to middle-of-the-night conflagrations. 

Wandering through the Utah Fire Museum near Grantsville in the desert west of Salt Lake City took me back in time. My imagination ran wild walking through the dozens of old fire trucks chronicling the history of firefighting in Utah. Each bright red vehicle told endless stories of its work protecting our citizenry, with brave firemen hauling hoses and erecting ladders to fight raging fires.

Before I made my way back to the fire trucks, the wall display of over a hundred helmets. The yellow and white, black and blue collection painted a rainbow of storylines from the past as they hung silently on the wall.

Today, we all carry mobile devices that allow us to reach out instantly to 911. Back in the 19th century, it wasn’t quite so easy. A display of fire call boxes dating back to 1883 illustrated how Salt Lake City was mapped with specially numbered alert boxes around the city — a system that remained in place until 1985!

As a radio nut, I loved seeing old Bearcat and Radio Shack scanners and other two-way radio gear.

When modern firefighters pull up to a scene, we take it for granted as they haul out hundreds of feet of fire hose. An exhibit traces the history of fire hoses back to Holland in 1673 and modern advances by American firemen in the early 1800s.

But amidst the vast collection of hoses, ladders and nozzles, the fire apparatus took center stage. There they were, all neatly aligned in rows — about three dozen trucks and engines, all looking like they were ready to spring into action.

I remembered the 1952 Van Pelt and 1953 International pumpers from my youth, right next to a sleek 1952 American LaFrance with the flat nose. Stepping further back in time, I could only imagine the futuristic feel of the 1922 Ford American LaFrance engine back in its day a century ago.

There was even a 1927 REO Speed Wagon from Juab County. The trucks, manufactured from 1915 until 1952, were named for company owner Ransom Eli Olds. For me, it was the namesake of one of my favorite rock bands from the 1960s and ’70s.

From the bucket brigades of the 17th century to hand pumpers of the 1700s to modern-day engines, fighting fires has always been about getting water to the fire. That task was aided by advancement in portable ladders in the 19th century to help get firefighters to locations out of their reach.

Amidst the eye-catching big pumpers and ladder trucks, another small vehicle stood out. The tiny red Volkswagen Bug with a big red gumball light on its roof must have been a treasure for the Tooele Fire Department.

Most of all, the displays brought me back to my time as a news photographer in the 1970s. I would love to be among the first on the scene, shadowing the professional firefighters in Madison, Wisconsin. My godfather, Chief Wilcox, was a longtime leader in the department, and he loved having me come by the station with photographs for his firefighters.

But I think what I most took away from my visit was the gratitude each of us owes to the firefighting community. Yeah, it must be really cool to ride to a fire in one of those sleek red engines. But there’s also the fear of the unknown and the pride of knowing that they’re helping keep us safe.

DETAILS

Getting There: Head west on I-80 towards Wendover, getting off at exit 99 and heading south on S.R. 36 between Tooele and Grantsville. The Utah Fire Museum is in the Deseret Peak Complex, south of the Utah Motorsports Campus.

Hours: Friday and Saturday from 11 a.m.-3 p.m.

Fee: Help the museum by dropping a few bucks into the donation bucket at the entrance.

Displays: There are myriad displays, from helmets to hoses, fire trucks to photos. Do take time to go through some of the informational binders around the museum to learn more about the history of firefighting.

What’s There?: Huge building housing dozens of historic fire trucks and engines plus a wide collection of firefighting apparatus in a large 30,000-square-foot museum.

Kids: This is a perfect outing for kids!

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Summer produce is magic: corn, tomatoes, peaches! Greens, turnips, sugar snap peas! Summer squash, beans — and more tomatoes!

Whether you’re growing it, eating it or both, the season’s bounty is glorious.

But what do you do when there’s too much of one thing — or items start to turn? Here are a few of Summit Community Gardens and EATS’ favorite tips to minimize food waste and use all the harvest:

• Greens wilting? Bring a pot of water to a boil, blanch for two minutes, and drain. Chop and freeze to put in winter soups and stews or saute with onions and garlic.
• Are your cherry tomatoes getting soft or split? Roast them on a pan of parchment paper with a little salt and oil at 400. Their sweet tang is perfect on a sandwich, folded into eggs, or as part of a vegetable saute.
• Peaches or any stone fruit soft or bruised? Roast on a pan with parchment and eat with yogurt or ice cream.
• These things should be stored in the fridge: apples, beans, beets, broccoli, cabbage, chard, citrus fruits, collards, cucumbers, kale, lettuce, okra, peppers, radishes, turnips, zucchini and all kinds of greens.
• Melons, pears and tomatoes can ripen on the counter, then be stored in the fridge.
• Store greens in the fridge with a damp towel so they can last longer!
• Make sure to store onions away from potatoes.
• Store root vegetables in a sealed container with a dry towel.
• And of course, pickle just about anything!

Recycle Utah, your community non-profit drop-off recycling center, provides these weekly tips. Visit their website for more information – www.recycleutah.org.

The post Green Tips: How to preserve summer produce appeared first on Park Record.

The theme this year at the annual Glenwood Cemetery tribute event featuring ghosts on Saturday, Sept. 28, is “Immigrants: People Who Made Park City Home.”

Since many of the families who are buried at the historic cemetery were from other countries originally, this year we decided to honor some of them and their families. At the event, we will be discussing Thomas Brennan, Peter Martin, Frank Andrew, John Dunsmore, Joseph Zucca, Matilda Wiest, and Sara Pike.

But for the sake of this article, let’s talk about some of the other families who were also immigrants and what we know of their stories.

Francis Trythall immigrated here from the Cornish village of Illogan in England. He was born in 1854 and had four brothers and a sister. His father was a tin miner, and Trythall and his brothers started working in the mines at the age of 12. When mining in England slowed down, Trythall and his brothers moved to America to find mining work here. They settled in Pennsylvania, and Trythall moved west and arrived in Park City in 1885.

He married Annie Rosevear and they had three boys together. After working 30 years in the mines, including 15 at the Ontario Mine, Trythall became ill with miner’s consumption and passed away after a couple of years. 

Some people, like Ancil Johnson, came here for religious reasons.  Johnson’s mother converted to Mormonism and felt it would be better if they lived in the United States, so Johnson immigrated from Sweden when he was just 9 years old. They traveled by cattle boat to America. Then they crossed the plains in an ox team and settled in Salt Lake City.

Since they had no money, Johnson started working at an early age. He drove the ore wagons from Bingham to the smelters and worked a few years later at the Ontario Sawmill.

As time passed, Johnson also worked as a Park City policeman, a boss teamster, a watchman for the Judge Mine, and did some cowpunching (wrangling, herding, and branding cattle). Johnson passed in 1934, at which time he was claimed to be the oldest resident of Park City, both in terms of age and length of residence.

Other people, like Mary Corrigan, came here for new opportunities. She was born in Scotland, but times were tough, so her husband, James, moved to the United States first to find work in 1880. She moved to Pennsylvania eight years later with their seven children. The Corrigan family first lived in Pennsylvania, then moved to Rock Springs, Wyoming, and finally to Park City. Her husband was also a miner who died of miner’s consumption in 1907. 

This article’s final subject is Ann Crowther Willcocks. She was born in England and became a widow at the age of 19. She met her future second husband, Walter Willcocks, and they immigrated here together in 1865. They spent some time in Monroe, New York as he worked in the iron mines for about 12 years before they moved to Park City in 1877. He became the master of Park City’s water system, a job he held for over 16 years. She helped with rental properties and hotel they owned.

There were many reasons people emigrated to the United States, and why they came here to live and work in here in Park City. 

Tickets for the Glenwood Cemetery Tribute Event with Ghosts scheduled for Saturday, Sept. 28, are on sale now! The tours are scheduled from 10:45 a.m. to noon or 12:45 to 2 p.m. Contact Diane Knispel at the Park City Museum 435-574-9554 to reserve spots.  The rain date is Sept. 29. We encourage ages 13 and up to attend. Stories may not be appropriate for younger children. 

If you have information about a family member buried in the Glenwood Cemetery, please call Knispel, as she would love to learn more about your family’s history. 

Diane Knispel is the Park City Museum director of education.

The post Way We Were: Immigrants make Park City home appeared first on Park Record.

This used to be a nice, quiet town. Everything has changed, gotten so congested and expensive. I can’t live here anymore.

This used to be a lively place. Now the town is dead and there are no jobs, and nothing to do. I can’t live here anymore.

Nothing ever changes. This town has been exactly the same as long as I’ve known. I can’t live here anymore. 

You can’t go home again. Well, duh.

How much ink has spilled over Thomas Wolfe’s book? The title, I mean. No one actually reads the novel, published posthumously in 1940.

This is like using “Alice in Wonderland” to talk about something else. “Catch 22” is another, right there with “Mission Impossible.” It’s way more fun to talk in metaphor than in straight up, plain words. Better yet in titles, so compact.

“You Can’t Go Home Again” is another cliché, true. It’s also a root truth beneath the tired indictments of where someone has lived for any length of time, voiced endlessly as if profound, revelatory, unique to this place.

But it’s not. Ski towns, beach towns, farm towns, factory towns, mining towns, every suburb defined enough to have a council and some that do not, college towns, big cities, little ones. This is Dr. Seuss, to fish out another metaphor from authors’ names or nom de plumes.

No place has changed in my lifetime more than Honolulu, where I lived young and returned right out of high school from one of those eternal suburbs, same as ever to this day. No place was more faded and worn out than upstate New York, save maybe the middle of Illinois, where I had the window seat in the 1990s as editor of a local daily in each.

I’ve stayed no place longer than in a ski community that in many ways I have to acknowledge grew better rather than worse, all considered. With roundabouts and development came amenities, more trail systems, better concerts, better athletics, a cancer center, the world’s best orthopedic surgeons, more choice among restaurants, improvements in education and opportunity for the kids. And as here, I could be in the wilderness within minutes, still able to find trailheads without another car in the lot.

An old, old rancher in the Vail Valley long before the ski resorts told me once: “Don’t let anyone tell you it was better then. Trust me, it wasn’t.”

Yet the mournful howls are joined en masse, almost eagerly as if joining a coveted club, a pack of true locals. Yes, all’s gone to ruin, I know. The place is pure hell now, red moon full, greedy monsters all about or else their factories gone for good.

The owners of a fancy clothing store in Vail Village made a lot of noise about bailing when I arrived in 1999. Colorado had voted out the Olympics, but still the skiers came. We learned quickly that you couldn’t get to Denver from there on a Sunday afternoon or evening, same as trying to come up from Denver on Friday nights and Saturdays, all bumper to bumper on I-70.

I respected that the disgruntled couple made a decision to move someplace quieter, one of those innumerable alternatives in the West alone. Doing something besides endlessly griping as if choices didn’t exist. We always have a choice, after all.  

Last fall about this time, I read yet another story about the end of the ski bum lifestyle, the latest of a genre going back to Warren Miller, who wrote a weekly column for the Vail Daily while I was there.

Heather Hansman’s “Powder Days” was a community read in Park City, so you might have read it, too. I loved it, but I also noted with extra interest the weary trope about how those days are all over now etc., etc., etc.

See, she didn’t even start her golden age in Beaver Creek until 2005, living the life and loving it all at a certain phase, just while we adults with kids in a whole ’nother stage of life duly noted others lamenting the end of it all with no hope for evermore as we suffered through a development boom. It’s all soured since, as she’s grown up, sure. Another cycle yet turns.

But you’ve had to have met some exuberant new young bums, as I have, on the lifts right here. Somehow it works, at least for a bit, as it did for Hansman, Miller and maybe you.  

The end of skiing is adjacent to town’s gone to all hell as skiing and ski towns together run at peak popularity in fact. There’s a Yogi Berra aspect to this: “No one goes there anymore. It’s too crowded.” Except here they all are, still, skiing decidedly not dead or even stale.

In a blink this will change, someday. Climate change will have its way, and resorts are likely in the fullness of time to overextend or collapse of their own weight. Park City could well go the way again of a Leadville, or a Sterling, Illinois, or some other ol’ once was, used to be.

If so, the howling will be just as mournful and useless, and shared, the loss keenly felt. I heard it across the Midwest and Rust Belt, unvarnished, unpainted, unrelenting. If one must choose between poles, in rural poverty at least you know everyone in what restaurants and grocery stores are left. And homes are cheap — only you still can’t afford them.  

I confess I’m not with the howlers and the moaners, the victims helpless against the tides, whether flowing or ebbing. If this is you rearing back and opening your jowls, the urge is telling you something: Make a choice. Stay or go. Or make the choice that I see as solid a minority as I’ve ever seen making right here. That is, clamping down on the challenges of too much posterity and all the down sides with that.

There are in fact bigger problems in the world than ours, worse places to live, more to mourn than a long lift line. Just saying. The sun also rises.

Don Rogers is the editor and publisher of The Park Record. He can be reached at drogers@parkrecord.com or (970) 376-0745.

The post Journalism Matters: This thing about towns gone to ruin appeared first on Park Record.

As Summit County looks ahead to being part of the 2034 Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City, we find ourselves at a pivotal moment. The next decade will demand decisions that not only address our immediate challenges but serve as a rallying point to forward community priorities. Reflecting on my experience in Atlanta during its preparation for the 1996 Summer Games, I saw first hand how a city can harness the Olympics as a catalyst for transformative change.

When awarded the Summer Games In 1990, Atlanta was facing significant challenges. Public housing projects, like Techwood Homes, had become stigmatized and perpetuated cycles of poverty. Downtown Atlanta had deteriorated, with businesses moving to the suburbs and leaving the city center blighted. Traffic congestion was worsening, and the fledgling MARTA transportation system lacked the investment needed to adequately serve the growing community.

Enter Mayor Andy Young, who returned to his hometown after serving in the U.S. House of Representatives and as ambassador to the United Nations during the Carter administration. His vision was to use the Olympics as a rallying point to revitalize Atlanta.

Mayor Young knew that while the Olympics wouldn’t solve all the city’s problems, it could accelerate the changes he envisioned. He worked closely with city leaders and major corporations like Coca-Cola, Home Depot, Delta, and Turner Broadcasting to develop a bold plan to revitalize housing, improve transportation, and enhance the overall quality of life for Atlanta’s diverse population.

The result was nothing short of transformative. The Olympics provided the momentum needed to close Techwood Homes, dispersing residents throughout the community and breaking the cycle of concentrated poverty. The Olympic Village became much-needed student housing for Georgia Tech and Georgia State University.

Downtown Atlanta was revitalized with the creation of Centennial Olympic Park, and new attractions like the World of Coca-Cola and the Georgia Aquarium followed. The state-of-the-art aquatic center built for the games remains one of the premier venues for collegiate swimming. MARTA received the necessary funding to expand its rail service, which has continued to serve the community ever since.

I worked with the Atlanta Committee for the Olympic Games as a vendor during this six-year journey and witnessed how the vision of a city in need of change used the Olympics as a rallying point to achieve its priorities while preparing to take the world stage. Athens, Greece, learned a similar lesson when the 2004 Olympics spurred a dramatic overhaul of transportation infrastructure, airport upgrades, and downtown revitalization.

The parallels to Summit County today are striking. Like Atlanta, we face challenges that demand bold action: limiting growth, preserving our environment, addressing housing needs, and improving transportation. The return of the Olympics offers us a similar rallying point — a chance to unite local government, businesses and community members around a shared vision for our future.

But this opportunity will not fulfill itself. It requires proactive leadership, clear priorities, and strong partnerships. We must ask ourselves: How can we ensure that the benefits of the 2034 Olympics extend far beyond the event itself? What legacy do we want to leave for future generations in Summit County?

Our community’s future depends on decisions made today. We should build on the success and legacy left behind by the 2002 Winter Olympics and think about how to use this global event as a lever to address the issues that matter most to our residents. Be it creating sustainable housing solutions, investing in infrastructure, or preserving the natural beauty that makes Summit County unique.

We have a unique chance to shape our community’s future. By setting ambitious yet achievable goals, we can use the Olympics as a springboard to solve longstanding issues. This is our moment to invest in sustainable development, enhance public infrastructure, and create a vibrant, inclusive community that reflects the best of Summit County.

Ari Ioannides is a Republican candidate for the Summit County Council, running for Seat C vs. Democrat Megan McKenna.

The post Guest Editorial: Our challenge, opportunity with 2034 Olympics appeared first on Park Record.

I’m not a fan of the Utah Legislature. To be fair, when looking at the big picture, they get the job done. State government is funded and operates better than a lot of states, the state bond rating is solid, stuff generally works. 

They even try to do the right thing now and then. They are trying to do something about the shrinking Great Salt Lake, for example, while at the same time, goosing growth that is the cause of the Lake’s demise. 

The “must-do” gets done, leaving them far too much time for recreational pursuits like banning books and their creepy fixation on public bathrooms. And creating special entities to build ski resorts without local zoning. 

On your November ballot, you will get to vote on an amendment to the Utah Constitution. It’s an amendment the Legislature thought was so urgent that they called themselves into special session to adopt it, and then also adopted a new statute changing the calendar for proposing and processing amendments, so they could rush it on to the November ballot rather than waiting until the next election, which the current schedule would have required.

So what’s this emergency that has them in such a panic? Has an important part of the tax structure been ruled unconstitutional, threatening the ability to pay for snow plows this winter? Is there an issue with the criminal code that will open the doors of the prisons? Did something change that will allow liquor to be sold any place that sells guns? Did somebody use the wrong bathroom at the airport? No, it’s far worse than that.

The Legislature is in a panic because the Utah Supreme Court recently ruled that even the Legislature itself is subject to the Utah Constitution, and the limits that places on its power. Well, I never ….

Following the 2020 U.S. Census, the states were required to revise their congressional districts so that each district is roughly equal in population. At the same time, the legislative districts for the state Legislature also get revised to balance them by population, and in Utah’s case, to unbalance them by political party. 

The process had been under the control of the Legislature, and they cravenly used it to guarantee political control by gerrymandering districts. An enclave of Democratic votes in Salt Lake and Summit Counties got split up in a way that makes it almost impossible that Democrat will ever be elected to Congress, for example. 

Utah is not unique in the abuse of the redistricting power, and both political parties do it when they can get away with it.   

A citizens group proposed a referendum that required the redistricting process to be taken away from the Legislature and handed off to a theoretically non-partisan committee appointed by the governor. That committee would draw the new maps, and the Legislature could either accept or reject them. Voters liked the idea, and the referendum passed and the independent redistricting commission became law.

The Legislature didn’t like that, and despite the referendum having passed by a vote of the citizens of Utah, the Legislature quickly passed laws that gutted the citizen-passed initiative, and put themselves back in control. The independent committee was reduced to an “advisory” role.

The sponsors of the redistricting initiative sued, and after a long grind through the court system, the Utah Supreme Court, who are all appointed by a generation of Republican Governors, ruled that the Legislature’s actions were, I think the legal term is “bull pucky.” The court said the Legislature does not have the power to materially modify initiatives passed by the voters unless there is some compelling state interest in doing so. The Legislature is not above the law.

The Legislature is having no part of that. They want us to vote to relinquish our (very limited) initiative and referendum power. Without irony, the proposed constitutional amendment starts out:  All political power is inherent in the people; and all free governments are founded on their authority for their equal protection and benefit, and they have the right to alter or reform their government through the processes [outlined in the referendum statute]. And then it goes on to rip the heart out of the referendum statute by allowing the Legislature to amend any referendum they don’t like out of existence. So much for the inherent power of the people.

Then, just for good measure, they want term limits for judges, specifically the Supreme Court justices who had the nerve to suggest that the Legislature is, in some small way,  answerable to the people. But no term limits for the members of the Legislature.

This crap passed the Utah House 54-21, and the Utah Senate 20-8. 

So what do we do about it? Well, first off, vote “no” on the amendment in November.  They apparently need a reminder that they are the hired help, not the owner of this popsicle stand. Then vote against the incumbents who supported this power grab. It’s clear that the only way to change the Legislature is to change the legislators. A depressingly high number of them are running unopposed. No wonder they think they can get away this this stuff.

And just for good measure, read a banned book in the bathroom of your choosing.

Tom Clyde practiced law in Park City for many years. He lives on a working ranch in Woodland and has been writing this column since 1986.

The post More Dogs on Main: Legislature’s latest power grab appeared first on Park Record.

My knee-jerk reaction when Kamala Harris first announced Tim Walz as her VP running mate was, Oh great. Another old white guy.

My second eye-roll reaction: He reminds me of 90 percent of the guys who show up in my Bumble feed. If I’m being honest, he reminded me of the ones I tend to swipe left.

But over the past few weeks, Tim’s really won me over. He’s a role model for what it means to be a good American. Nothing against the tall, dark and handsome MTB/ski dudes I’m usually attracted to. Tim Walz is a role model for what it means to be a legitimately good guy. The kind I should swipe right, minus the married part.

For the single men out there wondering what women really want, you can learn a lot from a guy like Tim. Heck, we can all be inspired. With that in mind, here’s some Timspiration for your dating-app profile.

Let’s start with the profile pics. In one of the first pictures we saw of Tim Walz, he’s wearing a T-shirt and flashing a doublewide, double-chin grin. Cradled in his farmer-tan arms is not a fish, but a baby pig. With all due respect to the 100-pound tarpon that you’re displaying more proudly than a trophy wife, I’d much rather be nestled against Tim Walz’s beer belly like that blissed-out pig.

Next, ditch the dreaded car selfie. Imagine a pic like the one of Tim Walz after he signed a bill that gave all Minnesota kids free breakfast and lunch. Instead of a seatbelt, he’s being hugged by a bunch of third graders. Who could avoid and dismiss that kind of attachment?

You might want to rethink the humble-brag shot of you in a tux, posing like James Bond in front of a “Save the children” logo wall. Get real — like the shot of Tim Walz addressing the DNC on national TV while his own kids are behind his back making bunny ears on his head. Sometimes you wanna kill ’em, but as Tim says, “My kids keep me humble.”

OK, since you insist, I’ll give you the hunting pic, as long as you’re not scowling while you point the gun menacingly at the camera, aka, the woman looking at your dating-app profile in horror. If you must hold a firearm, as Tim demonstrates, you could balance the butt of the rifle on your thigh while you kneel in some sweeping, tall grasses decked out in camo and safety orange alongside your loyal and adorable hunting dog (still alive, BTW). 

Now onto your bio. A guy like Tim would never use cringeworthy dating-app cliches: “Dating me is like being on a rollercoaster,” “Looking for my partner in crime,” “Went to the school of hard knocks,” “Work at Tell Ya Later“ or “No drama.” 

Forget being fluent in sarcasm. Dating-app Tim would be fluent in optimism. Dating him would be like having your biggest fan cheer you on from the sidelines. A fan who’s willing to give you the spotlight — even if it’s the biggest spotlight of all as commander in chief of the greatest nation on Earth. 

With dating-app Tim, we can disregard the nerdy granpa glasses, obsession with GIS mapping software and his challenge coin collection. We can overlook the 60-is-the-new-80 hairstyle. We can literally embrace the chubby cheeks and love handles. And yes, we can even forgive the nonstop texts, emails and posts — “Hi, it’s Tim again …”

Because nothing is hotter than a man who is a champion of women’s rights — like the right to make our own damn health-care decisions — and also a champion of humans in general. A man who leads with empathy as well big dad energy. A man who beams love so strongly onto his loved ones that it reflects back onto his own face in unabashed tears of joy.

Sigh. Swipe right. That’s my man. 

The post Betty Diaries: Tim Walz’s imaginary dating-app profile  appeared first on Park Record.

A rough year for the Park City School District got rockier with school board members who won’t be there next year saddling the district with an expensive contract renewal for a superintendent who may have outlasted her welcome.

I say “may have” because the issue here isn’t really Superintendent Jill Gildea, but the board. It’s been the board for a bit, I think, or more specifically a plainly temperamental president too often allowed his way. That’s not too personal, is it?

The three who rammed the renewal through all had abandoned their quests for reelection, whether growing weary of a hard job that comes with criticism in the best of times, reading the electorate that voted out the incumbents in the last school board race, or simply discovering better things to do with their time nearly all at once.

All of that is understandable. I’ve always thought the school board is the toughest public assignment, having observed plenty of these boards and administrations between upstate New York and the southern California coast, along with rich and poor communities in between.

You do get a sense for which school districts are functioning well and which are struggling. Covid and this still post-Covid era have tested especially the schools. I had the window seat on Truckee, Grass Valley/Nevada City, Aspen, now Park City. But I was most familiar before then with Eagle County, Colorado — the Vail Valley’s district — where my kids went and my wife worked.

A sign of the shoals came with the completely unsurprising discovery this week that Gildea has been job hunting. A network serving public charter schools in Colorado this week named her their only remaining candidate for CEO.

The wrinkle is that their board decided this nearly a week before the dramatic Park City School Board vote last week against the will of the board members and candidates who will be picking up the pieces next year.

A clause in her contract appears to stipulate that Gildea notify the board if she decides to look for a new job. The “board” didn’t know this. The full board also had no idea they would be voting to renew the contract this year instead of next when the school board president announced this in an interview with the thoroughly evil media.  

A Caesar complex is a sign of a dysfunction, sure enough. Whatever grip Caplan has on the rest of the board, that’s not healthy. It’s a big part of why I suggested he leave now rather than at the end of the year. He may have been a terrific school board member in earlier times, and maybe through Covid, those most trying and scary days. He’s not a positive force now, however.

Or is this just the news media making it all up? KPCW’s Leslie Thatcher made him to declare the board would renew the contract with her wily ways. The lame ducks didn’t power through with a 3-2 majority against the will of just about everyone else involved. Construction has gone well. The soil isn’t really toxic. What bullies? All that state and federal stuff? Figments of the media imagination. The media has all the power, not a school board president. Everyone knows that.

Ironically, perhaps, Dr. Gildea’s biggest problem is Caplan himself. I’m sure this is not his intention, but he’s dragging her down. We’re confusing issues with him as hers as well.

Rough patches happen. Education and bureaucracies cannot be rinsed clean of humans, after all. Kids are marvelous and they are the worst sort of brats. They are kids. It takes parents, a village, a community, the school system to raise them responsibly. By and large, though, the district is helping produce quality adults. Let’s acknowledge that, along with their teachers, principals and support staff including administrators.

Superintendents guide the slow turns in the big ship, influencing the classroom but not in it. Academically, the district is doing pretty well. The extracurricular opportunities are pretty vast. The teachers are pretty good. That’s more the fingerprint of the superintendent than the board.

Circling wagons and playing cat and mouse with the “media” and therefore the larger community is more of a board issue, frankly. There’s a tone that needs to change. I believe this will improve dramatically with the new year.

The Park City Follies were on to something, I think, piling on the district superintendent if at times meanly, I agree, though with sins better laid on the board. The real problem has been a board majority that has gone much too much along with the president and his temper, an Achilles’ heel now.

Gildea deserves a chance to show what she can do with a different, more open, more friendly board that also listens better. If she leaves now, which is understandable, I’ll credit the hubris and the predictable reaction to a lame duck majority ramming through the renewal. That was wrong, simply put.

I’m looking forward to the district again getting it right. I’ve seen that many times, too — a new board following a terrible reign with relief and a lot of positive steps from there. Tying the hands of next year’s board with the renewal now is problematic, but leave open the thought it could prove providential in the end. How’s that for an interesting paradox?

Don Rogers is the editor and publisher of The Park Record. He can be reached at drogers@parkrecord.com or (970) 376-0745.

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When we first moved to town in 1988, I quickly built memories of the place where I would go on to spend most of my life. I vividly recall my first Labor Day — sorry, Miners Day — and the ragtag parade coming down Main Street. Little pods of people dotting the curbs. Corny floats. One band. But what stood out most was the small town’s friendly and endearing irreverence.

I suddenly felt that this was my hometown!

That’s why we Parkites have been going to the Miners Day parade for 128 years. This is our day to celebrate with friends and to introduce the next generation to our culture! 

It’s a day that signals the break between summer and fall. It means kids are back in school. Days are shorter, and temperatures cooler as we chat about the first frost. And it’s when you should start thinking about where you left your skis last April.

In my native Wisconsin, we loved weekend festivals where families gathered in the beer tent. On our first visit to Swiss Days, we discovered that the concept of a beer tent was foreign here — except for Miners Day!

Like most small-town celebrations, it takes a good nonprofit to put on the show — that’s the Park City Rotary Club, now working in tandem with Park City Municipal. In the mid-00s, Rotary spiced up parade morning, adding Running of the Balls. Today those 15,000 balls turn into $80,000 for local causes.

Park City does heritage well. While we’ve evolved dramatically, we have never lost our roots. We began as a mining town, and we cherish that history. 

On a June Saturday in 1896, a crowd of 450 Western Federation of Miners walked down from the union headquarters at the top of Park City’s Main Street in what is considered the first Miners Union Parade.

The parade included miners, painters, cigar makers and the local athletic association. While we have no cigar makers today, we have plenty of politicians and nonprofits. We have humorist Tom Clyde on a tractor and the Rotary’s Citizens of the Year in convertibles. We’ll have some crazy cars, plus lots of kids and dogs.

As is tradition today, old-time Park City workers marched to City Park, where Mine Manager O.L. Lawrence oversaw the first event — a 100-yard sprint with a field of five. Miner Frank Foster won in 10.25 seconds (not far off the world record) and claimed a pair of running shoes as his prize.

The first modernday Olympics had been contested in Athens just a few months earlier. Contestants in City Park clamored to get into the high jump, shot put and boxing. There was also football and baseball.

As part of my Park City Rotary Club duties, I connected with my good friend and fellow Rotarian, Dr. Robert Winn. For a few decades now, Winnie and I have run the famous Kids Games in City Park, where our future Olympians in a sprint, gunnysack race and the ever-popular wheelbarrow run to finish.

Our little end-of-summer festival continues to be where we all come together as Parkites. We have a beer and listen to music in City Park. We grab a spot for the mucking and drilling demonstration to relive our town’s mining heritage. We share good times with friends while our kids run around the park.

Being the Parkites that we are, yes, we make sure our kids train for days like this. The kids cherish their ribbons, while Mom and Dad get bragging rights. Through it all, I’ve watched the kids of our community grow up before my eyes. 

This year’s Miners’ Day will be bittersweet for me. For the first time since 1988, I won’t be on the Main Street curb or behind the microphone for the Kids Games – handing off to the next generation, Rotarian Kevin Kennedy.

But please do me a favor. Spend an hour or two on Main Street next Monday morning. Bring your family to the Kids Games. And have a beer for me.

Welcome to Miners Day.

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One of Park City’s favorite festivals is set for Monday, and I can’t wait. Thanks to the hard work and exceptional organizational skills of the Park City Rotary Club, this year’s Miner’s Day promises to be one of our best.

Start off with a complimentary 7:30 breakfast at City Park courtesy of St. Mary’s Catholic Church (donations will be appreciated) and the Bark City 5K at 8 a.m.

The day unfolds from there, with all events clustered around City Park and Main Street. Check out the jam-packed schedule at ParkCityMinersDay.org. There is even still time to register if you want to participate in the 11 a.m. Miner’s Day Parade — deadline is Friday.

What are your Miner’s Day favorites? Running of the Balls on Main (always over much too quickly!) is one of my favorites, or relaxing at City Park with food trucks and live, local music.  

I enjoy people-watching at the parade as much as I love the parade itself, and the afternoon mining competition is a reminder of the grit and hard work of the people who came before us.

The day reminds me that everyone has a Park City story, a moment when, Park City native or not, they looked around and heard an inner voice say, “This is the place for me!”

Of course, Park City itself has a story to tell, and Miner’s Day is a great time to listen. Amidst all the fun and fundraising is our ever-present past, from the 5K that runs along part of the historic Rail Trail to the kids’ games set up across from the landmark Miner’s Hospital.

We have recently introduced a new, no-cost way for you to bring that local history into your life any time you like while also enjoying a healthy walk your step counter will love!

Our Travel Stories app is a self-guided walking tour of Main Street’s historic sites, transporting you back in time with engaging narratives accompanied by dramatic sound effects. Each segment automatically begins as you approach each site, such as the First National Bank Building and the Town Lift Plaza. Where you start makes no difference — the live map shows your location and the nearest site. No wi-fi or cell service is necessary.

It’s a unique, enjoyable experience with something new for even the most seasoned Parkite, such as the story of Park City’s long-lost Chinatown and the connection of our mining past to the Crescent Tramway and Town Lift.

Did you know The Park Record lost everything in the great fire of 1898, but set up in a tent and kept publishing, never missing an issue? Or that the Park City Museum building was then our City Hall and survived the fire due to its brick construction, a rarity among Park City’s wooden buildings?

You can enjoy this free service by visiting Travelstorys.com/tours and putting ‘Park City’ in the search bar. Download the app using the QR code, and you’re good to go! Be sure to use headphones on your tour so not to disturb others and stay alert to traffic as you get lost in our colorful history.

Travel Stories perfectly complements the Miner’s Day experience — bringing the past to life as you celebrate the present with friends, sunshine (fingers crossed) and the unique Park City vibe.

Jennifer Wesselhoff is the president and CEO of the Park City Chamber of Commerce & Visitors Bureau.

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