The Proud Shall Stumble

by Gerald N. Lund

  “In my opinion, it has everything to do with the boarding school. He hates the place. He hates that he only gets to come home on the weekends. Celeste doesn’t see it that way, of course. It’s a very exclusive school. Very expensive. Very prestigious. Students who stick with it basically can choose any college in America, including Harvard. Celeste says that he’s just going through a phase, that he needs discipline and structure.”

  Frank cleared his throat. “We don’t very often really fight over things, Dad, but we did tonight. It got pretty heated, and I guess we were raising our voices a little too much. Suddenly, Reggie was there on the stairs. He was crying. He had heard it all. He said that he wanted to go to Grandma and Grandpa’s ranch and that if we tried to send him back to the school he would run away and never come back. Celeste sent him to bed, telling him that she and I would make that decision, not him.”

  “Oh, Reggie,” Mitch breathed.

  Now Frank’s voice became very soft. “We finally gave it up, went to our separate corners, as it were, to cool off. But when Celeste went up about half an hour later to kiss Reggie good night, he was gone.”

  “Gone!”

  “Yes, he had packed his little suitcase and gone out the window.”

  “A silent cry for help,” Mitch said softly.

  “Exactly. Celeste was devastated, of course. She was frantic with worry. It was full night by this time. She wanted to call the police, but I convinced her to let me go look for him first. I had a pretty good hunch where he was. We have a golf course near our home, and he has a little place in the trees that he calls his fort.”

  “And was he there?”

  “Yes. And still crying. Still stubborn as a mule about going out to stay with you and Grandma. So we went back to the house and sat down together. Celeste saw that he was dead serious about running away. He even told us that he had been praying to Heavenly Father that we would change our minds. And that did it. Celeste relented. So, he’ll be coming with us.”

  “Your mother and the rest of the family are going to be ecstatic.”

  “I know, but more important, we have a little boy who is ecstatic. As we were tucking him in, he asked us if he could say his prayers. I guess he does it every night now. Surprised, we said that he could, of course. So he got out of bed, and without any prompting, he knelt down and uttered one simple sentence. ‘Heavenly Father,’ he said, ‘thank you for telling Mama to let me go to Grandma and Grandpa Westland’s.’ Then he said amen and hopped into bed, grinning like a little monkey.”

  “And how did Celeste take that?”

  There was a long pause.

  “Frank?”

  Mitch thought he heard his son sniff. “She cried for almost ten minutes, saying what an awful mother she was.”

  “If she were an awful mother, she wouldn’t be crying,” Mitch said.

  “That’s what I told her too, but you know how mothers are.”

  “Yes, I do know that. Thank you for sharing all of that with me, Frank. Can I share it with your mother?”

  “Of course. Oh, and Dad, one more thing I almost forgot. About coming out to get him when we get back from Europe.”

  “Yes?”

  “We’ve looked at our schedules. There’s no way to make that happen, especially if we stay the extra week in England. We both have meetings before school, and we have to start preparing our lectures. And Celeste’s father is having her and her mother help him with a big investment deal he’s working on. They’re having a big banquet or something for the stockholders. That’s the week before she starts school.”

  Mitch said nothing.

  “But we’ve worked it out. I hope this will be all right with you. Celeste’s parents have a chauffeur. His name is Leonard Richardson. He’s an English bloke, but a very good man. He’s a father and grandfather himself, and Reggie adores him. Reginald Senior has agreed to let him fly out and bring Reggie back. I know what you said, but—”

  Mitch cut him off. “Well, let me tell you what your mother said after we hung up. She looked me straight in the eye and said, with some force, ‘Mitchell Arthur Westland, if you set so many conditions that Frank and Celeste don’t come out for the wedding, you’ll be sleeping in the bunkhouse for the rest of the year.’”

  Frank laughed. “Way to go, Mom!”

  “So you tell Leonard Richardson that we’ll look forward to meeting him this fall.”

  Chapter Notes

  Hispanic herders hired to help with the large flocks of sheep and herds of cattle in San Juan County brought Catholicism with them, and from early on there was a small but thriving community of Catholics in Monticello. Though they tried to obtain a meetinghouse as early as 1917, it wasn’t until 1935 (not in 1929 as described here) that they built the St. Joseph’s Catholic Church. That parish church served the Catholic community for eighty years until it was demolished to make way for a new church in September 2015 (see In the Palm of Time, 304–5; see also San Juan Record, September 16, 2015).

  June 5, 1929, 9:42 a.m.—

  Lobby of the Hotel Utah, Salt Lake City, Utah

  Mitch stood up as he saw Frank get off the elevator, his head turning back and forth as he searched for anyone he knew. Mitch raised a hand and waved. People were streaming back and forth across the hotel lobby, and others were lined up at the main desk checking out. But Frank saw his father and came over immediately. Mitch motioned to a chair next to the one where he had been reading the paper, and they sat down.

  Still looking around, Frank asked, “Where is everyone?”

  Mitch chuckled. “Oh, they’re long gone. MJ, Rowland, and Monte stayed up north with Aunt Martha and Uncle Johnnie to ride herd on the kids. They’re probably on their way to Lagoon by now. Martha said to tell you that Reggie went right to sleep and is doing great this morning. So the kids are taken care of. The women left just a few minutes ago. They’re taking Tina across the street, headed for ZCMI to see if they can put me into bankruptcy before this wedding is over.”

  Leaning forward, Frank began to massage his temples with his fingertips. He groaned. “I half remember Celeste coming in and kissing me good-bye. What time was that?”

  “About eight forty-five. We had breakfast together before they left. You hungry?”

  “Ravenous.” He moaned again. “You know, when we came by train and it took us three days, you just kind of automatically adjusted to the difference in time zones. But when you fly across the country in less than a day, it’s weird. My body’s still on Boston time. I’m usually awake by five each morning, a habit I learned from you and Mom. So, at three o’clock, I was wide awake, even though I had tossed and turned for over an hour before dropping off to sleep last night. I finally got up and took some aspirin for this headache and managed to go back to sleep around seven.” Then another thought came. “Did Aunt Martha say if Reggie’s airsickness is gone?”

  “She did. She said he was fine this morning.”

  “Good. That last leg from Denver coming over the Rocky Mountains was pretty rough. We were bouncing all over the sky, and he threw up a couple of times. Celeste almost did too.”

  Mitch was shaking his head. “This is quite the age, isn’t it? You coming from Boston in less than a day. Now we have a new concept—airsickness. We go to sleep in one time zone and wake up two hours earlier in another.”

  Mitch pointed over to a small kiosk next to the hotel front desk. A man in a hotel uniform was standing beside a raised counter. A sign on the table read Concierge. “I’ll bet he’ll have something for your headache,” Mitch said. “Then you won’t have to go back up to the room. And let’s go get you some breakfast. That will help too.”

  “Sounds good.”

  10:17 a.m.—Dining Room, Hotel Utah

  Frank sat back, picked up his cup of coffee, and drained it. He sighed as he set the cup down again. “That was excellent.” He looke
d around at the sumptuous dining hall. “I’ve got to admit that the hotel here is equal to anything in Boston. This is quite surprising.”

  “I thought we’d brought you kids up here once.”

  “Not that I remember. And I would have. The lobby is spectacular, with that balcony all around the main hall.”

  “They call it the mezzanine floor,” Mitch noted, amused to hear his son actually praising something in Utah. “How’s the headache coming along?”

  “Finally wearing down a little. The coffee helps.”

  Another smile from Mitch. “I wouldn’t know.”

  Frank was embarrassed for a moment. “Does it make you feel bad that you’ve got this Jack Mormon for a son? Drinking coffee. Never going to church.”

  “I was just giving you a hard time,” Mitch replied, dodging the question.

  Frank sat back and patted his stomach. “So what’s the plan for today?”

  “We’re all meeting at the Reissners’ at five and we’ll have a picnic supper. The men will bring the kids straight there from Lagoon. Not sure what the women plan to do this afternoon when they’re through shopping, but I’m sure they have something planned. Then tomorrow, we’ll spend most of the day decorating the church for the wedding reception.”

  “And that’s at Jacob and Adelia’s ward house?”

  “Right. Since the wedding is at nine o’clock Saturday morning, everything has to be done by tomorrow.”

  “Tina is radiant,” Frank said. “I’m so happy for her. And I really like Monte. He’s perfect for her.”

  “That’s how we all feel. And to get a doctor in the family pulls us up a notch on the social ladder.”

  Frank laughed. “As if you and Mom care about that. So what’s your plan for this morning, then?”

  “Well, I need to go to the wholesale feed store and order some alfalfa seed and have them ship it down to us, but I can do that this afternoon. Don’t know if this will interest you, but Jacob has invited me to a special meeting at his father-in-law’s bank at eleven. It’s not far from here.”

  “A meeting on what?”

  “Not exactly sure,” Mitch answered. “Adelia’s father, Aaron Brockhurst, owns something like ten or twelve banks now, some in Utah and some in Arizona.”

  That caught Frank by surprise. “Whoa! I knew he was a banker, but that many? I’m impressed. But Jacob doesn’t work for him anymore, right?”

  “He does in the summer when he’s not teaching at the university. Anyway, Jacob said that a few months ago, Aaron commissioned a study of current economic conditions and trends and what the future holds. They’re reporting the findings at this meeting this morning. To my surprise, Jacob said that Aaron specifically asked him to invite me. He said that there are some particularly interesting trends for agriculture that they’re going to discuss.”

  Frank gave his father a long look. “Really? Actually, I would be interested in that. Celeste’s father’s got a huge deal under way where they’re buying up repossessed and abandoned farms across the country. Both Celeste and Babette have invested some of their personal money with him.” At Mitch’s look, Frank chuckled. “Yeah, they both have trust funds from Babette’s family. It’s not my money. I’m a college professor, remember?”

  Mitch only nodded, and then he turned and looked at the clock on the wall. “It’s almost ten thirty. The bank is about three blocks south of here. I thought maybe we’d pop into ZCMI on the way and see if the girls need an additional infusion of cash.”

  “You sure that’s a good idea?”

  Mitch laughed. “Probably not, but Celeste was worried about you, so you can also let her know that you’re doing better.”

  Frank glanced down at his clothes. “Do I need to change to a suit?” He was thinking of Reginald’s meeting, which had required formal wear.

  “No. Some will be in suits, I’m sure. I think all of the branch banks have officers coming. But Jacob said that casual dress was fine. They’ve invited a lot of their preferred bank customers, and they’ll be coming right from work.”

  “Do you bank with this institution?”

  “I do. And I’m very happy with them. Our little branch in Monticello works closely with them.”

  Frank pushed his chair back and stood up. “All right, then. Let’s go.”

  10:54 a.m.—Main Conference Room,

  Utahza Bank and Trust Co., Salt Lake City

  As it turned out, at least half of the nearly one hundred guests present were not in business suits, which surprised Frank a little. Not quite the same atmosphere as the one he and Celeste had found that night last December. Not a tuxedo crowd, and definitely no champagne being served—or beer either, for that matter.

  Jacob Reissner had met them at the door and was introducing them to some of the other guests. Several were either farmers or ranchers, which also surprised Frank. But as Jacob introduced him and his father, he quickly learned these were not your typical farmers. One man with a farmer’s complexion and gnarled hands owned three farm equipment dealerships up and down the state. One ran a large Hereford ranch out near Vernal. Mitch knew him, and after the man walked away, he told Frank and Jacob that he ran about four thousand head of cattle on his ranch. Two men ran commercial construction companies, one headquartered in Salt Lake, the other in Provo. An older man owned the largest paving company in the state. And yet there were also several small retail shop owners and grocers—both men and women. Jacob introduced Mitch and Frank to the presidents or vice presidents of four local banks that were not affiliated with his father-in-law’s bank. Interesting to invite your competition, Frank thought. And though he didn’t ask, he was pretty sure that none of these people had been asked to sign nondisclosure agreements. A very different atmosphere indeed.

  As they moved toward the front of the room, Frank noticed some brass lettering mounted on the front wall of the small auditorium.

  UTAHZA, Inc.

  Utah/Arizona Bank and Trust Company

  Incorporated 1894

  “Ah,” Frank said to Jacob. “Now I get it. Utah-Arizona. Clever.”

  Jacob laughed. “Adelia’s father was one of the first pioneers in the Gila Valley in Central Arizona, so he is Arizonan through and through. It pained him to put Utah first in the title. But even he agreed that Arizootah sounded a bit ridiculous, so he finally gave in.”

  As they laughed, a booming voice called out. “There you are!” They turned as a large man with a ruddy face, deep blue eyes behind rimless glasses, and a thick mane of white hair came striding toward them. He clapped Jacob on the shoulder and extended his hand to Mitch. “Mitch, how good to see you again. Thank you for coming. I know this is a busy weekend for you. Adelia says it’s going to be a grand wedding.”

  “We hope so,” Mitch said. “And it’s good to see you again.” He turned. “Frank, let me introduce you to Adelia’s father. This is Aaron Brockhurst. Aaron, this is our son Frank. He and his family are out from Boston for the wedding.”

  “Ah, yes. The M.I.T. man,” Aaron said as they shook hands. “Jacob and Adelia have told me a lot about you and your wife. They tell me your wife comes from a banking family too.”

  “Yes, my father-in-law founded the New England Colonial Bank and Trust right after the turn of the century.”

  “I know of New England Colonial. Big investment bankers on the east coast.”

  “Yes, they are.”

  “Well, glad you could come. Pretty sure we’ve never had a physicist in our meetings before.”

  “Probably because physicists live in the abstract world of higher mathematics and bankers live in the real world of accounting and finance,” Frank replied.

  “Well said,” Aaron said with a smile. “But we’ve got a lot of other non-bankers here today, so we’ll try not to be too esoteric.” He glanced over at a clock on the wall. “Well, it’s time to get start
ed. Jacob, I have three seats for you on the second row.” Then to Frank and Mitch, he said, “Hopefully, we’ll see you afterwards. If not, we’ll see you at the wedding.”

  11:02 a.m.

  As the preliminaries were quickly covered and Aaron Brockhurst explained the purpose of the meeting, Frank couldn’t help but be struck by the irony. This was the second time in six months that he had attended a high-flying meeting called by the president of a large banking firm. And from Brockhurst’s brief summary of the purpose of their meeting, it sounded very much like it had been called for the same purpose as the last one—to look closely at the current state of the economy and discuss how to profit from it.

  He was only partially right.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Brockhurst said as everyone settled back to listen, “it is part of Utahza’s guiding philosophy to offer high-quality banking services to our clients, but also to provide information that will help them make informed and wise decisions about their own financial futures. As some of you have doubtless heard, Utahza’s economists have been doing a lengthy and intensive study of current economic conditions, trends, and circumstances. The results of that study confirmed much of what we already knew, and that is good. But there were some things that have not only surprised us but are somewhat concerning as well.”

  That brought Frank’s head up. The word concerning had caused a soft ripple of sound to go through the crowd. Concerning was not a word that Reginald had used or even hinted at back in Boston. Frank looked over at his father, but Mitch was leaning forward, listening intently.

  Then Frank relaxed again as Jacob’s father-in-law went on, for it quickly began to sound very much like what his own father-in-law had laid out for his clients six months before. Brockhurst began talking about what a tumultuous decade it had been. He spoke of the numerous new inventions that were being eagerly sought by consumers and how that had fueled a booming economy. He spoke of the explosive growth in manufacturing and international trade. He also laid out many of the same details about what was happening to American farmers. The boom cycle fueled by war contracts, the use of modern equipment that greatly increased crop yields, the growing prosperity they enjoyed, and the increasing debt load they had taken upon themselves. All of which led to a collapse in farm prices and millions of farmers being forced to walk away with nothing.