Help! It's 1880 and Zion is Going to the Dogs
By Davis Bitton

Salt Lake City had seen phenomenal growth in thirty-three years, from the original settlers to a little more than 20,000 people. The city was still growing, and there was prosperity, but there were also problems. Instead of the sleepy, peaceful town that some might have enjoyed, Salt Lake was booming, and it was changing. Let me give a few glimpses as they come across in the pages of the Salt Lake Herald.

Shade trees. Needing protection against the elements, the settlers had planted trees along the streets and in their private lots, and as the city expanded more trees were added. Providing shade and beauty, they contributed much to the city. But many blocks of the city were still destitute of trees, and the citizens were urged to plant them. Everyone didn't understand the need for pruning. One irate citizen wrote to protest "the cruel butchery of the shade trees," a "barbaric" practice. Another reader wrote a response. He had once thought the same thing but had found by observation that pruning led to stronger, fuller, more attractive trees.

Wide streets. The wide streets of the city envisioned by Brigham Young had been noticed by travelers and often praised, but citizens were starting to complain about the cost of upkeep. "What it takes to make and mend a mile of street in this city, would do the same things for two, three or even more miles in the ordinary American town." So a proposal was put forth that a twenty-five foot strip on each side of the street be given or sold to adjacent lot owners. "Would it not be better to have it cultivated, built upon and improved, than let it continue. . . a dreary waste of roadway, and a constant cost to the tax payers?" (Salt Lake Herald, 22 August 1880).

Water shortage. As we have come to understand very well, inadequate snowfall means inadequate water during the summer. Uno Hoo (prankster George J. Taylor) proposed placing over the Great Salt Lake "at a suitable elevation, large condensing pans to secure a portion of the immense amount of water which generally evaporates from that great reservoir and bring it over the city at such altitude as may be deemed necessary, erect a tower of equal elevation, and then let the chief of the fire department stand on the summit of the tower, with a large hose pipe, and squirt the water around to fall in gentle showers where it will do the most good." (Salt Lake Herald, 7 April 1880). That plan was not accepted. In the late summer, George Ottinger, superintendent of water works as well as fire chief and an excellent artist, issued an order restricting the use of sprinklers for lawns. If people would confine their lawn sprinkling to the hours between 7 p.m. and 7 a.m., he thought it would not be necessary to issue time cards as was done the previous year.

The Bicycle. You might think that before the automobile the streets were slow and uncrowded, with an occasional carriage or wagon making its leisurely way to town. But a new vehicle was taking the city by storm. "Here in Salt Lake there seems to be bicycle fever," said the newspaper. "A few months ago the first machine made its appearance on the street; then came another, then half a dozen, and now these noiseless roadsters are encountered at all times of the day. A dozen or so young men are indulging in ''headers'' over the handles. It is remarkable that a boy or man can fall six feet from his bicycle, turn a double somersault and plow the frozen ground with his nose, and still smile and smile and seem really pleased. Tip him out of a wheelbarrow, or let him step on a banana peel, and he will swear and swear, and limp about with cane or crutches for a week." (Salt Lake Herald, 28 March 1880). The old pace was giving way to technology. The old folks would have to watch and pray, lest a speeding cyclist come careening around the corner and knock them over.

Telephone. Invented in 1878, the telephone had already been introduced in Ogden, and at the end of 1880 a company was organized in Salt Lake City. Salt Lakers were especially enthusiastic over the prospect of having a separate line to each house or business, thus preserving privacy. Only in the country would "party lines" still be necessary. The advantages of the telephone were obvious. You could call the fire department, call the police department, change your order at the meat market, alert your wife if you were bringing someone home to dinner. These are the imagined situations that were mentioned. No one seems to have thought of the possibility of teenagers tying up the telephone or of being interrupted during the dinner hour by solicitors.

Gangs and hoodlums. Many young people apparently had too much time on their hands. School attendance was not mandatory. Almost from 1847 on there had been a disorderly element among the teenagers. By 1880 it had reached major proportions. A cluster of boys would hang around many corners of the city, scuffling, shouting obscenities, intimidating peaceful citizens. Often they carried firearms. Even outside Temple Square they would gather at the gate at the end of meetings and "ogle, chew, smoke, spit tobacco juice, swear, and make vulgar remarks about ladies as they pass." Respectable citizens were alarmed. If parents didn't discipline their children or if the police did not enforce the public peace, someone warned, Salt Lake City could easily become as bad as San Francisco. (Salt Lake Herald, 28 November 1880, 5 December 1880).

Billiards. Several billiard parlors were attracting business men and young men. The explanation was that relaxation from the cares of the day was needed, and the game developed, judgment, skill, and a steady eye and hand. Admitting some truth to these claims, the monitors of morality deplored the amount of wasted time, the smoke-filled atmosphere, the ready availability of alcohol and gambling. (Salt Lake Herald, 19 December 1880).

Pornography. They didn't use the word at the time, but we recognize the problem. The Society for the Suppression of Vice provoked the Chicago police into closing down an establishment. Two young women, Sarah Fisher and Mary Lucas, had taken photographs of themselves posing in the nude, and these pictures were then developed and sold under the title "Parisian Beauties." Circulars advertising this risque material were showing up in the mail boxes of young men and young women of Salt Lake City, whose names had somehow been placed on a mailing list. But stamping out the traffic in pornography was not easy. No sooner was one person arrested and punished than another would set up a similar operation. Young people of Utah were urged "to pay no attention to these circulars." (Salt Lake Herald, 12 February 1880).

We can sum up the year 1880 by saying that there was trouble--right here in River City. One conclusion people sometimes draw from the discovery that earlier periods had a sense of decline and decay is that the concerns were overwrought. The good citizens of those earlier times and places shouldn't have worried, because they survived and some conditions even improved. There may be some justification for that position: "Keep your hat on--things aren't so bad, after all."

My own assessment is slightly different. The concerns were genuine. The clues of societal and spiritual degeneration were not made up. Parents and leaders of community and church were right to deplore some of these things and if possible to take corrective action. In our own day, the evidence of continued decline is unmistakable. The conclusion for me is not to shrug off the bad trends or pretend they are not serious. Like our ancestors 122 years ago, we can analyze problems and do what is in our power to solve them or at least mitigate the consequences.

Like our ancestors, we can both recognize problems and also be grateful for positive actions and developments. In 1880 Utah boosters touted the advantages of the Utah climate, hoping to attract visitors. Salt Lake City tried to put on its best face, not for the Olympics, but for the visit of U.S. President Rutherford B. Hayes. A beautiful new structure was dedicated during the year, not the Conference Center, but the Assembly Hall. In addition to criminals and delinquents, there were good people of all ages. And at October conference John Taylor, George Q. Cannon, and Joseph F. Smith were sustained as the new First Presidency of the Church.