By January of 1997, the benefits of the arrangement had begun to erode. Personalities were conflicting and the harsh winter in such a remote place was becoming problematic. While there had been some fun and lasting memories during my short stay at the Steed ranch, I was ready to go home.
Just as we started to wither in these frustrations, news came that changed everything: Uncle Rulon had decided that Dad had acknowledged his shortcomings and repented so that his priesthood could be fully restored. The thought of a warm hug from the man whom I had missed so dearly filled me with hope. At last, it felt as though my family was being glued back together. Home had never been perfect, but it was the only place I wanted to be.
The time is short.
—FLDS PARABLE
It wasn’t until we returned to the house on Claybourne Avenue that we learned Mom had been in Salt Lake City for several weeks, redecorating our house with help from my sister Rachel. It turned out that both my parents had gone to the prophet separately about reconciliation, but in order for my mother and her children to be welcomed back into my father’s home, certain things had to happen. The prophet had directed my parents to be rebaptized and remarried. They’d even gone off to California for a second honeymoon.
Another stipulation was that Mother Audrey and Lydia, Audrey’s youngest daughter and her only child still at home, had to move out. At the time, there was no explanation given for their departure, only that Audrey was to repent from afar. In truth, our problems were never the product of any one individual; they were the result of living in a complicated family with complicated issues under tremendous religious pressures. But in the prophet’s search for a solution to make us all whole again, he decided the only answer was to divide our family once more, this time in a different way.
Many years later, Mother Audrey would confide to me how difficult our departure to the Steed ranch had been for her. It had left her feeling empty and drained, and she worried that something was terribly wrong with the prophet’s decisions for our family. She’d been so elated when she heard that we were finally coming home, but her joy quickly turned to pain again when she was informed that she would now be the one who had to move out.
Audrey faced the challenge of finding a place to stay, and it was only after several phone calls to her children that her son Richard and his wife took her in. She’d have to come to terms with the fact that she and her husband would remain married but live apart. As a believer, she would continue to keep the faith, praying to the Heavenly Father that they would soon be reunited.
For my mother and father this really did seem like a chance for a fresh start. I can still see the look on my mom’s face when Dad returned home one night holding a dozen red roses and a brand-new wedding ring that she’d help to design. It had rubies and diamonds, and Dad had it wrapped in a small box tied with a bow. I lingered in the living room, watching my parents share a few romantic moments, heartened to again see them expressing their love for each other. Mom hadn’t looked that happy in ages, and seeing her like that renewed my hope that everything would work out.
With Craig gone, Travis packed off to reform, and Audrey no longer living with us, the house felt eerily quiet. Emotions were high, and everywhere there was a lingering emptiness. As a result, we eagerly anticipated the upcoming April conference for all FLDS members in Hildale, Utah, and Colorado City, Arizona. This would give us not only a chance to see Travis but the opportunity to get our family back on track.
The April conference was just one of many annual events that required the entire community—including those of us who lived in Salt Lake City and Canada—to travel down to Short Creek. The FLDS does not celebrate traditional Christian holidays such as Christmas and Easter. We had our own events to observe throughout the year, three of which took place in the summer months. The first was on June 12, commemorating the birthday of our former prophet Leroy Johnson. Throughout his life he would gather the people together on his birthday and serve them all watermelon. People so dearly loved and respected him that after his passing they continued to gather on this day to remember him. This was followed by Independence Day on July 4 and Pioneer Day on July 24, with the traditional Pioneer Day parade. Of these events, Pioneer Day was by far the biggest community celebration, as it marked the day in 1847 that Mormon pioneers first settled in the Salt Lake Valley. The summer gatherings were followed in the fall by Octoberfest or Harvest Fest, in which members would all gather in the “crik” to help harvest the potatoes and other crops on which many of us would rely throughout the winter months.
Of all these yearly occasions, the April conference was the most sacred, and the people would come to the twin towns for religious teachings. For the men, this was also the time for the priesthood ordination meeting. During this important meeting, male members of the community learned their worthiness and whether or not they would be honored with an elevation to a higher level of priesthood. Young men are ordained into the priesthood at the age of twelve, when they become priesthood deacons and gain admittance to the sacred male- only priesthood meetings. As they get older, they can rise to higher levels within the church, so long as they have their father’s recommendation. Once a man reaches the age of eighteen, he can attain the level of church elder, at which point he can have a wife and family through a revelation from the prophet.
Because of the celebratory nature of all these gatherings, I had always associated southern Utah with joy and togetherness. Our time there was always marked by jubilation and relaxed fun. When I was a child, those events gave me the precious freedom to run around and play with the other children at the park. I also loved going to the zoo at the center of town that had been created by Fred Jessop, the bishop of Hildale/Colorado City and a beloved figure in our community. The zoo was home to many exotic animals, including zebras and llamas, and he built it so that children wouldn’t have to leave the community to enjoy such amusements.
Uncle Fred, as he was known, owned an enormous white house perched atop a small hill overlooking the community and visible from most parts of town. Like the Jeffs compound in Salt Lake City, Fred’s house was vast enough to accommodate a birthing center for the local FLDS community, but Fred Jessop didn’t have any biological children of his own, as a childhood disease had rendered him sterile. Instead his children came from the wives of husbands who had lost the priesthood, and had been reassigned to him.
Since he was so involved with the community, I had always had a good feeling about Uncle Fred. Though I didn’t know him personally when I was younger, I would hear stories of his life. From the little that I did see of him, he seemed to be a kind and loving man who had the people’s best interest in mind, a man who represented all the good things about the community.
Short Creek was a place where we didn’t feel strange or outcast. It was the only place I knew where I was free to socialize and roam about the town. There was a deep sense of unity in knowing that we all believed the same things and didn’t need to feel ashamed in one another’s company. Back in Salt Lake, outsiders would scoff at our long dresses and unfashionable hairstyles, but down in Hildale and Colorado City, everyone looked and acted just like our family did. The twin towns felt like home to everyone; there everyone knew one another by name and many were related by blood or marriage. If anything could ease our troubled family, it was a trip to Short Creek. As the car jam- packed with Walls made its way toward southern Utah for the April conference that year, I was optimistic about our chance to heal our family’s wounds and assuage my own overwhelming loneliness.
Unfortunately that year’s conference weekend was not what I had hoped for.