In This Issue

For readers of history, a certain poignancy lies in the ability to know the conclusion of a story—to see how hopes and expectations play out in the end. Beginnings, of course, carry a certain charged energy. Witness these beginnings: In 1862 a group of devout St. George settlers, assigned to raise cattle for the Cotton Mission, move forty miles north to establish a new community; a generation later, a young cowboy sets out to build a livestock empire in the Price area; during the depression in southern Idaho, a young man plans a lifework of poultry raising; four young women leave their smalltown homes to earn teaching degrees at Snow College.

But events never seem to unfold in ways that, during those hope-filled beginnings, can be guessed. The students at Snow College, for example, had expectations for the future as they both worked and romped through a year away from home; however, changing cultural conditions would alter the trajectories of these women's lives. Reuben G. Miller, the young cowman in Price, probably saw only success ahead as he grew to become the region's most prominent stockman and businessman; he, too, could not have guessed how his fortunes would change. As the Cotton Mission settlers put their faith and energy into building a community, they did not forsee that their hamlet of Hebron could not survive And finally, the would-be poultry farmer, Leonard Arrington, could never have imagined that he would become Utah's most-honored historian.

History's retrospective view links these beginnings and endings. By exploring the territory in between, the articles in this issue illuminate the whys and hows of unfolding events. In addition to the above-mentioned stories of labor and lifework, a photo essay on movie theaters shows how entertainment, like everything else, has evolved in previously unimaginable ways Together, this issue's articles and the memorial tribute to Society Fellow Arrington offer perspectives that cannot be had at the beginning of any endeavor.