Thankfully Not Gone

Jean Leon Gerome Ferris (1863-1930)

To be thankful, that is what this time of year is about. Thanksgiving was instituted as a national holiday by Abraham Lincoln in 1863 during the American Civil War. It has come represent many things to many people over the years, but at the heart of what was represented on that first national observance remains today; giving thanks.

Many argue that Thanksgiving is becoming a forgotten holiday as Black Friday, one of the biggest shopping days the year, follows the day after Thanksgiving. It even appears to have taken Thanksgiving’s place. It is a solid argument as we watch our televisions night after night and see commercial after commercial declaring “get here Friday for your Christmas door busters”. And, we  see these commercials starting the beginning of October, but that is another argument for another day.

Another thing that seems to support that argument is that no one decorates for Thanksgiving anymore. That is too general a statement, because I know for a fact my mother does and so do others from her generation. But, drive down any residential street in the weeks before Thanksgiving and you would not see Mr. and Mrs. Pilgrim in the yards. You would not find bright and shiny pinpoints of light in brown, orange, and yellow either. The residential world seems to skip Thanksgiving every year and move right to twinkling of red and green.

I have no real complaint about the oversight. I understand that many do not want to decorate for three different holiday events over a two month period. That said, by skipping the Thanksgiving decor and attending the Black Friday sales, some are left with the impression that Thanksgiving is becoming the forgotten holiday.

I believe this is simply not true. Over the last weeks as Salt Lake City and its surrounding areas have prepared for Christmas — Temple Square, Main Street, and the downtown stores must have their lights ready for Black Friday — people, families and friends, have prepared for Thanksgiving. There may be no outward display of this old yearly holiday, but the spirit of it is alive and well.

In my travels this last week I cannot count the people that wished me a Happy Thanksgiving and that I wished the same. We talked of the food that would be served, the family and friends who would attend, the spirits that would be served, and football. Everyone seemed enthusiastic as the event approached.

I was forced to think back on past Thanksgivings and it occurred to me that it was basically that way every year. As families and friends grew closer to the time when they would come together, excitement (and to be honest, some angst too) rose until everyone was present and accounted for. It has always seemed that everyone, for the most part, participated in those Thanksgivings. I do not see a change in that today.

How could something so alive be lost? It is not possible for it to be forgotten. Yes, it is the gathering of family and friends that comes to mind first when we think of Thanksgiving. This is one reason it will never be forgotten. There is another reason too that I believe will always hold the holiday in place; that is the thanks and giving from which it was born.

The holiday was originally initiated by Lincoln so that we might give thanks, summarizing, to the One that resides in Heaven, during one of the worst periods of time this country has ever experienced. I believe that the spirit of thankfulness will carry this holiday on for as long our country exists, maybe beyond. There may not be the over the top decorating that occurs with Halloween and Christmas, but Thanksgiving remains no matter the decor.

I hope for you and yours the very best that Thanksgiving has to offer. Happy Thanksgiving.

When Living History Leaves

Lamb's Grill, 169 South Main Street, Salt Lake City, Utah

Things change. That is just the way life is with us and the things around us. We are in continual “flux” in regard to the world. The result is that history is made; both personally and communally.

Writing this article has been one of the most difficult I have ever written. I am not completely sure why it has been, but I have started, scrapped, restarted, and scrapped it again. I have left it alone for days and come back to it with fresh eyes only to stare at the screen unsure of what to say.

Then I remembered something. When writing, always lead with the head and the heart will soon follow. It is the ultimate resolution to conflict.

The academic part of my brain says to me that history is not an emotional thing. It is just a set of factual happenings strung together by circumstance and time. The emotional part of my brain, however, says that I am to feel my way through what I discover about the past in my surroundings. Especially when I have an attachment to it.

That last is the case with this particular writing. At the heart of my desire to know the past that surrounds me are places where I have experienced living history. Yes, living history, where the past can be touched, breathed, and taken in.

Recently I walked south on Main Street in downtown Salt Lake City and came across a very sad sight. It seemed strange to me that my breath would be taken away by a change like this one, but it did. A long-time establishment, Lamb’s Grill (Lamb’s Cafe to some), which opened in 1919 in Logan, Utah, and moved to Main Street in Salt Lake City in 1939 (Lamb’s Grill Closes — but not forever, owners hope, Kathy Stephenson, The Salt Lake Tribune, May 1, 2017), was closed and the space up for lease.

A piece of me broke when I took in the darkened cafe behind the large storefront windows. Two very prominent signs, “Sorry, We’re Closed” and “Available”, sent me into a type of mourning. I was broken, because it was in this place that I discovered that pieces of history could be lived. I doubt I will ever find another place such as this to relive those historical pieces and parts of Salt Lake City. It was a place where change and time appeared halted and history seemed accessible. And now, it was gone.

That is the way it is with change. All things must come to an end, but in some things, we hope they last much longer than others. It was sad to see, and I think for those of us who frequented Lamb’s Grill, something of the city we love died with this particular change.

My first experience with Lamb’s Grill came in 1989 when I was just learning that I loved the study of history. From the first moment I entered the cafe I knew it was a very special place. Not because of its food, or drink, or desserts, but because of its atmosphere, and service, and history. No doubt the food was good. I long for their liver and onions, and I truly dislike liver and onions.

Many times, I sat at the long hardwood coffee bar, ate and drank, thinking about the long past the place held for the City of Salt Lake. It was a complete throwback to an earlier time when people dressed up to attend breakfast, lunch, or dinner. White linen table clothes and napkins adorned the tables complimenting the white porcelain coffee cups and saucers; the cups turned upside down, their lips nestled to the grooves of the matching, fitted saucers.

Small crystal vases usually held a single flower set neatly on the tables, and near the wall in each booth. In each booth, the table was lit by a small single lamp attached to the wall inside them. It made the small space, where two or four could sit, intimate as a bulb glowed a warm yellow through an ancient, frosted glass lamp shade. The booths had a brass hat and coat rack attached to their backs completing the look of what once was — only displayed for us in the here and now.

For me, it always seemed I was stepping back to a place and time when men showed others respect by removing their hats when they came in from outside. When those same men helped their ladies out of a coat and allowed her to sit first, even pulling a chair out, so she could sit with ease.

How many times did I imagine Cary Grant or Bing Crosby or Fred Astaire types, “dressed to the nines”, breezing through the front door after pretty ladies they acted, danced, and starred with in those films of old? Too many. It was Lamb’s Grill that brought these images alive in my mind.

Too much imagination in the realm of the fake and made up? Absolutely. But, at the heart of what I imagined every time I sat down in Lamb’s was the reality that those types of people and scenes really existed in a bygone age. Lamb’s really was a piece of living history harkening back to what long ago was like.

More than this, I believe, the place inspired me to want to know more about the past — more about our history. A past founded in reality and not those fanciful thoughts I had sitting at the coffee counter.

There were many times when I sat at breakfast or lunch watching local businessmen and women enter the place. Sometimes I knew them on sight from a television commercial. Sometimes I did not know who they were, but I knew the price of the suit, outfit, or shoes they were wearing. These were enough to tell me that deals were likely to made that day.

Even a Latter Day Saint (LDS Church) authority, or two, was spotted there on occasion. I always thought that odd, because Lamb’s was not just known for their dining experience, but drinking experience. But, why I would be surprised by that? Even people who run churches have to eat. I will say this, I do not remember ever seeing one of those authorities there when I dined for dinner. The lounge scene came alive some nights and the bar served quite a variety of cocktails.

I cannot begin to imagine the list of historical deals that may have been made as people dined there since 1939. At least, I cannot outside of my own experiences. More recently, I did not see the usual power suit attendance at the old place. It may be that I just was not there when they were. It could be that the place did not hold the same power lunch attraction as it neared the end of it’s life.

According to a Salt Lake Tribune article (noted above) new ownership recently mismanaged their liquor license with the State of Utah, and I assume they may have mismanaged other things too. Whatever the cause, Lamb’s Grill was not able to stay open.

It is a sad thing when living history like the Lamb’s Grill leaves us. We long for it when it is gone and wish we would have spent more time exploring and experiencing it when it was available to us. With change, sometimes a part of us dies and we are left with just the memories of a thing. That is a part of studying history too. Without memories, and access to those memories, there is no history.

There is always hope that Lamb’s Grill will reopen, but if it does it will not be the same place it was. Apparently, it will not occupy the same space either. As I said, it is up for lease. Pieces and parts of it are being sold off and I believe it is almost impossible to recapture those pieces and parts that history touched once they are in the hands of collectors.

I had to walk north on Main Street to return the way I came. On the way, I lingered a little longer than I did on my walk south. I took in all I could as I stared into the darkened cafe and then looked up and down the street around me. There was so much change to the Main Street I have known in the time I have lived here. I know it to be a place in “flux”, and I fear it ever will be.

Introducing Just Jousting, Back to Blogging

Coffee, another passion. Things you will learn about me.

It has been a very long time since I did any blogging. After blogging about photography for many years, I gave up the weekly ritual of writing for things less taxing. As it turned out those things were not less taxing, but a distraction from what I truly loved to do, which is to write.

I have tried over the years to restart, but fell short, because I really did not know what to write about. The world of photography is a wonderful world, but I lost interest in it and a move in positions at work made it difficult to pursue that particular craft and art with any kind of consistency. Change has once again occurred and my ability to be consistent with such things is now available to me.

Still, there was the matter of what to write/blog about. Everyone and their beautiful pooch has a website or blog, and it seemed to me that there was no room for another site that babbles on about this or that. All are allowed to express themselves and that is a wonderful thing. Few do much more than rant. The good ones provide insight and/or inspiration to do this or that in whatever you may be looking to learn.

For weeks now I have put my mind to what I might discuss in a new blog. It certainly has to be something I am passionate about. What worth is it to anyone, even me, if I choose a topic or theme that has no appeal to others, or me? The answer? Little. It would be a waste of time for all involved.

A walk the other night to meet a friend for dinner and drinks in downtown Salt Lake City made up my mind for me. The four-block walk south down Main Street to my destination spoke to me the answer in what I was looking for. It was the history of the place that shouted a fresh perspective on the blogging I wanted to do. This places’ history; Main Street, Salt Lake City, and everything that surrounds it.

Certainly, the reach would be local. But, am I really looking to speak to someone all the way around the world? No, I’m looking to stay small and speak to people who live where I live, or maybe the visitor who has decided to visit Salt Lake City or this beautiful state.

My desire solidified, and the decision made, I begin this new blog. It is called, Just Jousting.

Why is it called that? It seems a strange name for a blog about historical Salt Lake City and its surrounding areas. But, think about it. One’s historical perspective is wrought with subjection. Yes, there are facts, and facts are just that, facts. The subjective nature of the facts comes in to play when one, or some ones, decide that they will interpret those facts.

Out of this comes discussion, and most times disagreement. Healthy argument and discussion — to my mind — has always looked like a jousting match. Those who have the better weapons (knowledge), the fastest steed (rhetorical or written acuity), and the proper strategy (opened mindedness) win the match. The winning is found in what is taught and what is learned, so there are no real winners or losers in this. Revisionist history is born out of anything else. That is just the way it is and accepting that is most of the battle where the joust earns respect for the winner and the loser.

So, with all that has been said above, I open this new blog, Just Jousting. I am working on the first official post, which will appear on the coming Wednesday. I am looking forward to sharing with those who will read it and hope for rich discussions about the things posted here.

Have a wonderful weekend and come back again on Wednesday to see the beginning of what I hope will be a good place for both you and I to learn together.