The Bridge

During the spring of 1983, we lived in a nice neighborhood in Sandy. We had always liked the neighborhood, partly because of the location, but also because of our LDS ward. The people there were more than neighbors. They were truly brothers and sisters. They loved one another and showed it by their actions.


There was a family in our ward with young daughter that had been sick for a long time and wasn't expected to live much longer. We, along with other neighbors, did the usual thing...take in meals, offer assistance when needed etc.

At last the young girl passed away. Of course the parents were heartbroken but maintained faith that they would see her again in the eternities.

The funeral was planed and was to be in Mayfield Utah...a couple of hours South of where we lived. They were from Mayfield and wanted her interned there.

(I was aware of where Mayfield was because I had, many times, driven through there on the way to 12 mile canyon which connected with Skyline Drive on the top of the mountain. My first time there was probably when I was around 12 years old.)

At this time we had recently purchased a new 12 passenger van. We volunteered to car pool some of the ward members to the funeral. The bishopric and their wives wanted to ride with us. The bishop was to conduct the funeral.

The trip was uneventful until we left Gunnison and were a few miles from Mayfield. We had timed things just right and should get to the church about 30 minutes before the funeral was to begin. Then we came upon a sign that said "road closed" and another that said "bridge closed". We proceeded further, recognizing that it would put us far behind by going back to Gunnison, then North to the other road that could take us to Mayfield.

1983 was a year of heavy snowpack and there were many floods throughout the area. This area was no exception. When we came to the bridge, there were small barricades there to stop the traffic. We got out and looked at the swollen stream and how it had washed out much of the dirt and material that was around and under the supports of the bridge. The water was literally roaring under the bridge. We walked across the bridge and back and decided to give it a try. Rather than put everyone's lives at risk, we moved the barricades and rather quickly and very nervously, I alone drove across the bridge. Everyone else walked across. We replaced the barricades, everyone got in the van and we got the church on time.

The people in Mayfield were more than gracious. After the funeral and grave side service, they served us with a nice meal before out trip home

Not too long after that, we move to our present location. We have fond memories of that time in our lives.