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Chapter 23 - Deaths Temper Conflict

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Footnotes Section

Footnotes Section

Chapter 23 - Deaths Temper Conflict

IF ONE YEAR were to be singled out as the most eventful and significant in the 100-year history of The Salt Lake Tribune, 1918 would be a formidable contender. It was a year of momentous historical events, such as decisive Allied victories which culminated in the ending of World War I; the embarkment by the United States upon what was to become a continuing policy of international aid, rehabilitation and military involvement; and the ravaging Spanish influenza epidemic. It was also a year of death-related internal changes for The Tribune.

To the readers of The Tribune, and to people all over the world, it was both a depressing and an exhilarating year. The depressive factors, as reflected in the columns of the newspaper, included long lists of Utahns and Intermountain residents killed in the war. Every issue carried two, three or more pictures of young men "killed in action." On the home front the flu epidemic was loading the columns of The Tribune with obituaries of prominent and obscure people of all ages, with an abnormally large percentage being men and women in the prime of life. During the latter part of the year, when the epidemic was rising toward its crest, schools, churches, theaters, dance halls and other places of public amusement were closed. Social functions, public or private, were forbidden; shopping hours were curtailed and controlled to minimize contact of people with one another; limitations were placed on the number of passengers allowed on street cars; and Joseph F. Smith, president of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, was laid to rest without a public funeral service. The medical profession got into a public hassle over the wearing of gauze masks as means of controlling the epidemic. A Tribune staff member recalls a vivid memory of the period when in late November he was checked out of the Fort Douglas hospital and registered at the Hotel Utah. About 10 p.m. he walked from the Hotel Utah to the Newhouse Hotel and back, a distance of eight blocks on Main Street, and saw one human being and two cats. The human being, wearing a ghostly white mask, was a night watchman checking shop doors. The cats were, appropriately, black.

Soaring prices and shortages harassed a large majority of the people. The Tribune, in a report on Thanksgiving dinner food prices, listed eggs at 72 cents per dozen, oranges at 10 to 15 cents each, turkey at 40-42 cents per pound and spring chicken at 45 cents per pound.

On the cheerful side of the otherwise dismal picture which emerged from the columns of The Tribune were large black headlines on Allied victories, capped on the morning of November 11 by a huge eight-column banner line — "The War Is Ended" - and on the morning of November 12 by a slightly smaller line — "125,000 Salt Lakers Go Wild." The Salt Lakers went wild at a spontaneous street celebration. Ironically, the Armistice festivities were blamed by health authorities for aggravating the flu epidemic.

At The Tribune, in keeping with the somber atmosphere of the year, death struck swiftly and it struck at the top. David Keith, the long-time partner of Thomas Kearns, died in April, thereby placing a half interest inThe Tribune in an estate which demanded cash for tax purposes. On October 18 Thomas Kearns died eight days after he was struck down by a Ford automobile near the base of the monument of Brigham Young at Main and South Temple Streets. Death was attributed to a stroke brought on by injuries suffered in the accident. This placed the other half of The Tribune in an estate and shifted to the competent shoulders of Kearns' secretary, John F. Fitzpatrick, responsibility for the varied and extensive business interests left by Kearns to his family. The deaths of the two owners of The Tribune, instead of jeopardizing continuity of ownership of the newspaper, established it in the Kearns family. For a year later, after Mrs. David Keith had also passed away, David Keith, Jr., administrator of the estate, and his attorney appeared in the office of John Fitzpatrick to offer the one-half share in The Tribune for sale. As recalled by Fitzpatrick years later, the executors of the Keith estate said the sale was necessary to raise cash, that they had decided to give the Kearns estate the first opportunity to buy, that if the Kearns family did not choose to buy they would seek to sell elsewhere. Fitzpatrick inquired as to the asking price and was informed that it was $300,000. He thereupon agreed to buy and entered into a contract to pay $30,000 down and the remainder upon confirmation of the sale by the court. The transaction was completed on October 19, 1919. Valued on The Tribune's past earning record, $300,000 looked to be a liberal price for a one-half interest. Valued on the newspaper's outlook for future earnings, it was a bargain price. At the time of the sale it appeared to be a reasonable price, as two different sets of appraisers had valued the Kearns half-interest at $175,000. Fitzpatrick looked to the future instead of the past and, as the future demonstrated, made a very profitable investment for the Kearns family.

A third death in 1918 which had an indirect but significant bearing on the history of The Tribune was that of President Joseph F. Smith of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on November 19. The deaths of Kearns and President Smith a month apart had consigned to the past some old animosities which had impeded prior efforts to repress the "irrepressible conflict." The frictions had been reflected in such incidents as Smith's opposition to a second Senate term for Kearns, the senator's indictment of the church from the Senate floor just before his term ended, the organization of the American Party and its support by The Tribune, and President Smith's suspected collaboration with Kearns' old political enemy, Senator Reed Smoot. More important to the cause of accommodation were the leadership changes wrought by death. President Smith was succeeded as head of the church by Heber J. Grant, a man who over the next 27 years was to demonstrate a dedication to healing old sores and pushing the "irrepressible conflict" into past history. In this enterprise he had the equally dedicated collaboration of those in control of The Tribune — John Fitzpatrick, who after Kearns' death exercized the authority of ownership, A. N. McKay, the publisher, and Homer F. Robinson, a Tribune man for more than a half-century, who was business manager.

President Grant's role in the establishment of an accommodation was not a passive one, for he was not a passive man. He was an activist in the movement both at home and abroad. He certainly stands out in the history of the Mormon Church and in the history of Utah as a mighty contributor to an evolutionary process of displacing conflict with cooperation at home and erasing a widely entrenched (primarily because of polygamy) image of his church as an ecclesiastical pariah. The attitude of President Grant toward the gentile journalistic spokesman in the "irrepressible conflict" can be fairly expressed in his own words. Following Joseph F. Smith's death, Grant carried in his pocket a copy of the editorial tribute paid to President Smith by The Tribune and frequently read it at meetings to prove that the epoch of distrust and recrimination had really ended. At a Thanksgiving dinner sponsored by the Salt Lake Chamber of Commerce a few days after the death of A. N. McKay on November 18, 1924, President Grant, the principal speaker, began:

I made up my mind last night. . . that I would devote most of my time in paying tribute to Ambrose Noble McKay. To his fairness and understanding I attribute the changed attitude of the greatest newspaper in our city.

He then read The Tribune's editorial tribute to President Smith and added these comments:

I believe I know who wrote that editorial. Although I asked Mr. McKay if the man I mentioned had written the article he merely said: 'We never give away editorial secrets.' I am satisfied if the party I named had not written it he would have told me I was mistaken, but he did not.

The person who wrote the editorial was Noble Warrum, Sr., then postmaster of Salt Lake City but who later served The Tribune for years as an editorial writer. He was a close personal friend of McKay, Grant and Smith.

A few years before President Grant died on May 14,1945, a Tribune reporter called at his home seeking an interview on a European tour the church president had just completed. He found President Grant alone and in a reminiscent mood. After the immediate business had been disposed of, President Grant began recalling past experiences and for about two hours kept a reporter who had to meet a deadline entranced. When the reporter reluctantly informed President Grant that he would have to leave if he was going to "make the Idaho edition" President Grant terminated the interview with substantially this comment:

There is one more thing I would like to tell you. I am a man with a long memory. I am not always so forgiving as I should be. And The Tribune has said things about me and many of my friends and asso- ciates which I shall never forget or forgive. But I want you and your associates on the paper to know that if suddenly remembering some of these things, I begin expressing my bitterness, I am talking about the past and not the present or anyone now associated with The Tribune. For one of my best friends, inside or outside the church, is your publisher, John Fitzpatrick.

A month before The Tribune paid its tribute to President Smith, the Deseret News published an editorial on the death of Thomas Kearns which indicated that the church newspaper, like The Tribune, was willing to let bygones be bygones.

The death of the Honorable Thomas Kearns yesterday . . . removes from this sphere of action with painful suddenness a man who was in all respects a notable figure in the community. He rose by his own energy, industry and foresight — aided perhaps to some extent by what men call luck — from poverty to affluence; he climbed from the station of humble delver underground to the loftiest political position any American state can confer upon one of its citizens — the United States senatorship. To his credit be it said that in the height of his prosperity he never forgot the 'pit whence he was digged,' and he was not too proud to recognize with cheery sociableness and material aid those with whom he toiled in less comfortable days. . . . Hence, with large numbers of men in his employ, his enterprises were singularly free from labor disturbance. His private benefactions were far more numerous than were known to the public, while some of his larger charities will long be memorable. Having gained his wealth in this state, he was loyal enough to use it locally in building up and beautifying the city where he made his home. Of course he had his limitations, as has every man; but he had also many of those fine traits which endear a man to those who know him best. . . .

The Tribune, which had said some harsh things about Joseph F. Smith both before and after he became president of the Mormon church, said this about him in death:

In his earlier days he was fiery, fearless, impetuous and uncompromising, and was therefore looked upon as a fanatic intolerant of moderation and irreconcilable to opposition. But with the coming of age, the assumption of authority, the increase of responsibility and the consequent contact with his fellow men, came a broadening of vision and a softening of his nature which gained for him a recognition of those sterling qualities for which he will be remembered longest and best. . . .

In the benign political and ecclesiastical atmosphere then existing in Utah, The Tribune pursued a policy in the 1918 campaign and election which could offend no one, except perhaps some of its older readers who were used to stronger political fare. It covered the campaign quite fully and objectively and took no editorial position on candidates within the state. It was an offyear and the office of president, United States senator and governor were not at stake. The newspaper did aggressively oppose a proposed constitutional amendment designed to remove constitutional property tax protections from the mining industry. It did indulge in a little political meddling in the affairs of neighboring states by supporting Francis E. Warren, a Republican, for reelection to the Senate in Wyoming and Charles B. Henderson, a Democrat, for reelection to the Senate in Nevada. The newspaper also urged Nevada and Wyoming voters to support "bone dry" propositions which were being submitted to the voters. The strength of the prohibition sentiment then rolling up in the country can be appreciated from the fact that both Nevada and Wyoming did vote "dry," along with Florida and Minnesota. This brought to thirty-three the number of states adopting state-wide prohibition laws before the Eighteenth Amendment was approved the following January (1919) to become effective in January of 1920.

In an editorial comment on the prohibition vote The Tribune stated that California failed to go "dry" only because of the San Francisco vote, and with the following statement predicted that national prohibition would surely come by 1920:

Prohibition sentiment has been growing for a number of years and has at last gathered sufficient momentum to make itself felt. Politicians have long since ceased to call the prohibitionists 'longhaired cranks' just as they ceased calling suffragists 'short-haired females.' Success makes all the difference in the world.

A newsworthy event in the fall of 1918 which served to emphasize the change in the policy of The Tribune was the reviving of the old bugaboo, polygamy. The issue was raised not by The Tribune this time, but by leaders of the Mormon Church at the semi-annual conference in October. Charles W. Penrose, whose slashing attacks on The Tribune while he was editor of the Deseret News had brought him more than local fame as a journalist, turned his considerable talents of denunciation upon those members of the church who were persisting in the teaching and the practice of plural marriages. Penrose at that time was a member of the First Presidency and so was speaking with the authority of that body. If anyone doubted that he was expressing the position of the church it was dispelled when President Joseph F. Smith who was making his last appearance at a general conference, and Heber J. Grant, senior member of the Council of Twelve Apostles, concurred in and expanded upon Penrose's remarks. The Tribune quoted President Smith as follows:

I find it imperative upon myself to endorse and affirm without reservation the statement that has been made by President Penrose in relation to the subject upon which he last treated. I want to say to this congregation and to the world that never at any time since my presidency in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, have I authorized any man to perform a plural marriage and never, since my presidency of the Church, has any plural marriage been performed with my sanction or knowledge or with the consent of the Church. Therefore, such marriages as have been performed unlawfully and contrary to the order of the Church are null and void in the sight of God and man and are not marriages at all. I want you to put this down in your notebooks and remember it as long as you live, because it is true.

The Tribune covered the conference sessions in considerable detail and with detached objectivity, a far cry from the earlier conference reports loaded with sarcasm and snide interjections. Unlike The Tribune of an earlier period, it kept its editorial mouth shut on polygamy, which was now a problem for the Deseret News.

In summary it can be said that 1918 was undoubtedly a more eventful year in the history of The Tribune when viewed retrospectively than it appeared at the time. For the significance of some of the developments of that year depended upon their permanence. There had been "springtimes" of accommodation on prior occasions, followed by relapses into the old "irrepressible conflict." Viewed from the vantage point of more than a halfcentury, 1918 emerges as the year in which policies of conciliation cautiously inaugurated by both sides of the old conflict in 1911 were confirmed and permanently established. It was the year of certain events which assured a continuity of ownership of The Tribune. It was the year which solidly entrenched advocates of accommodation in control of the destinies of the newspaper for the next half century and more. It was the year in which economic realities began forcing Salt Lake City's newspaper business into a viable structure. It was the year which sounded the death-knell of the venerable and respected Salt Lake Herald, although it lingered on until July 18, 1920, before it actually suspended publication. It was, in short, a year roughly dividing the history of The Tribune into two periods. During the first period it distinguished itself both at home and throughout the country as an aggressive, persistent, effective, and sometimes intemperate, voice on one side of a bitter conflict encompassing economic, political, religious and social differences. During the second period it distinguished itself both at home and throughout the country as a consistent, objective, effective and temperate advocate of sensible cooperation among diverse economic, political, religious and social groupings. Throughout both periods it has been an energetic collector and disseminator of news, background information and viewpoints from which its readers of all varieties could draw their own conclusions, objective or otherwise.

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