In This Issue

One of the many fascinating images in O E. Rolvaag's classic Giants in the Earth is that of the troubled Beret, wife of Per Hansa, fretting that Almighty wrath will attend anyone who removes a surveyor's section marker. The thought of one of her homesteading friends or family doing such a thing was her most dreaded fear Within our modern and high-tech society, that seems a strange worry, having long since been superseded by concerns over crowded city streets, bottlenecks on the freeways, and power failures during rush hour. But only a moment's reflection is necessary to bring us to the realization that few processes are as crucial to stability within a complex society as the surveyor's marks. This is where property lines are delineated and order begins. The built environment starts with the transit and glass.

The first selection in this issue focuses on an early Utah surveyor, James Henry Martineau, who left many marks on the Utah landscape, especially in northern Utah, during the 1860s, '70s, and '80s Realizing that some of the earlier survey markers had either been moved or incorrectly placed initially, Martineau labored diligently to satisfy the territorial surveyor general and the fledgling communities that had already begun to take shape It is a story of physical hardship, personal loneliness, and financial reverses Yet, it is an inspiring tale of a labor of love by a man driven to succeed Readers who have traveled through picturesque Cache Valley and marveled at the charm of its physical layout will now have a special appreciation of the technical processes whereby those towns and farms lie so neatly on the land.

The next selection also deals with the beauty of Utah's landscape but this time with the natural rather than built environment At issue is the promotion of tourism while protecting the fragile ecology of spectacular Mukuntuweep Canyon in the southwestern part of the state The machinery was in place to achieve both aims In fact, as we pick up the story, the Antiquities Act has been passed and national monument status is imminent But with the creation of the National Park Service in 1916, people of the area began to conceptualize a more ambitious plan. The story that follows is a most interesting account of cooperation on the local, state, corporate, church, and federal levels to expand the monument's original acreage, achieve national park status, and come up with the much more euphonious name of Zion. Out went the roving herds of domestic hogs, in came improved access roads, and down came the tacky commercial signs. That process—and subsequent promotional successes—proceeded smoothly enough to astonish the modern mind. Reasons for that and possible lessons for today are explored with the historian's insight and skill here.

The final article surveys a sometimes rollicking, sometimes acrimonious century-long history of the Brigham Young monument in the heart of Salt Lake City. Beginning as a popular idea and fashioned by one of the finest sculptors of the day, the monument seemed a sure-fire way to adorn the streetscape and rally the city around its unique heritage. While it has achieved both those aims for much of its existence, it was a disappointment to its creator and a frustration to many of its sponsors. Controversy has swirled around it from the beginning and has dogged it to the present. Unlike a life-size bust that can be discreetly removed and sent to basement storage or a historic marker that can be easily replaced with updated verbiage, a thirty-five-foot-tall granite and bronze icon is not easily altered to suit the changing plans of traffic engineers or the dictates of political correctness. Among the food-forthought menu items offered in this entertaining historical account is the question of what history means to the hypothetical man on the street and therefore how it should best be packaged to suit the desires of a fast-paced society that loves portability, change, and free-flowing traffic

ABOVE: 1947 ceremonies at the lighting of the Brigham Young Monument celebrated the centennial of the Mormon pioneers' entry into Utah. Boyart photo, USHS.