40 Years of City Weekly—Volume 18: 2001 to 2002 

A fall in New York and winter in Utah bookended City Weekly's 18th year, with events that commanded an international audience. Respectively, the Sept. 11 attacks and the 2002 Winter Olympic Games showcased terror and pageantry, heroism and greed, depravity and humanity.

Between these bookends were memorable stories for the interested reader. Tiffs ensued over the advertisement of alcohol in newspapers and billboards, while liquor law enforcement was temporarily loosened. Construction was halted on the Legacy Parkway's advance through sensitive wetlands over UDOT's inadequate environmental review. A Catholic shrine in Taufer Park was defaced. Utah's elected Democrats lost seats in government, and Salt Lake City was carved into pieces through state lawmakers' redistricting effort.

The cover features by City Weekly's writers add further color to this period. Jared Blackley tackled the experiences of gay BYU students; Katharine Biele wrote of the political influence of Reagan Outdoor Advertisers; and Julie Trevelyan explored Utah's herbal industry. Bianca Dumas profiled Zen master Dennis Merzel, Dave Candland covered lucid dreaming and Ben Fulton reported on Utah's Palestinian-American community, as well as the mullet haircut.

Remembering Vol. 18: In the aftermath
"There's so much to be said. So much to be felt," wrote Wally Greenwell in a Sept. 20 letter. "Emotions never before imagined are being discovered, felt and processed with the speed and intensity of an atomic explosion. And what will ultimately come of this? Broken hearts. Lives changed forever. And, to some degree, the erosion of humanity."

The terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center towers and the Pentagon shattered the calm of a beautiful September morning and plunged American citizens into a nightmare that many others around the world had long experienced themselves. "We are no longer aloof," observed John Saltas, "we are amidst."

The shock and destruction of the attacks elicited numerous letters to City Weekly, but one in particular responded to the remarks of President George W. Bush that the United States had been attacked for being "the brightest beacon for freedom and opportunity." To this assertion, Michael Homel provided some prescient words of caution.

"It must be acknowledged," he wrote, "that we are the target for attack because we achieved our status at the expense of much of the rest of the world, and we must work to change this in order to achieve sustainable development at the expense of no one.

"We must be wary in the aftermath of this attack," he continued, "that our leaders don't use the fear and anger we all feel to get us into a war ... or lead us to give up some of our personal freedoms in exchange for greater totalitarian-like security measures. Instead of calling for a military retaliation, it would be more prudent to reassess our role in the world theater and try to make fewer enemies."

This advice was not likely heard easily, for in the wake of the terrorist attacks, both paranoia and xenophobia reared their heads in full force. Northwest Airlines booted three Arab Utahns off a flight home from Minneapolis at the insistence of their fellow passengers. And in keeping with nationwide sweeps of immigrants—often held without criminal charges or in some cases legal representation—69 undocumented workers at the Salt Lake City International Airport were indicted and more than 200 others were terminated in December on the grounds of providing false information.

Scott Renshaw pointed out, however, that such ugly actions were not the only impulses to come through in the wake of the terrorist attacks. The sacrifice of rescue workers was the most apparent example, but there were others who were providing light and hope both before and after the tragedy, be they victim, helper or bystander.

"Remember the name of everyone you know who gave blood, money or time in the middle of this tragedy," Renshaw exhorted on Sept. 27. "Remember the lost, and remember those who lifted us up in the wake of that loss. Wrench the world back into the sharp focus of human faces."

Renshaw noted that Pakistani immigrant Yaser Nisar's Salt Lake restaurant Curry in a Hurry was targeted by an attempted firebombing following Sept. 11, but members of the community then flooded his establishment with support and flowers. Renshaw didn't want such acts to be lost in the tidal wave of darkness. "Horror of this kind happens when the abstract—America, Arabs, gays—distracts people from the personal. Whisper those names softly to yourself, and swear to whatever name you give your God that you will never forget every life you touch has a name."

Such counsel would be timely in the years to come, for U.S. and British forces began bombing raids on Afghanistan that October and the "War on Terror" apparatus revved up for campaigns around the globe.

The Sept. 20 issue featured a dedicatory note to those who had lost family and friends, and a special tribute to the Rev. Mychal Judge (1933-2001), a New York City Fire Department chaplain and the parish priest to David Ferraro, then-classified ad manager with City Weekly.

In one quote
"The far right doesn't want to make their case through persuasion and prevail in the hearts and minds of the public. They want all discussion stopped and decisions made by an authoritarian system behind closed doors and then handed to an obedient public for a sustaining vote. This is exactly what the Constitution was written to prevent. This is what religious scriptures—especially Mormon scriptures—warn against. This is the road to totalitarian oligarchy—rule by cliques and gangs."
—Alexander Nibley, Aug. 16, 2001

In the spotlight
"Well, the Games are here," John Saltas announced on Feb. 7. "As Utahns, we've waited, we've skipped meals, we've built, we've watched the scandal, we've buried the scandal, we've gotten lots of snow and we've been the subject of all sorts of attention from the world's media. ... In the next few weeks we consummate our relationship with the world. We'll soon know if the world consummates back."

After years of preparation and bombast, the party had begun, as 80,000 nightly visitors, 9,000 journalists and 3,500 athletes and coaches descended upon Salt Lake City. Over three special issues, City Weekly was there to cover the proceedings, from the parades to the protests.

Prices were raised, scalpers were afoot and soup kitchen lines were rerouted out of public view. For some, it was a vacation while, for others, it meant being out of work and a home. There was a brawl between a drunken crowd and police in riot gear. Utah's legislators got plenty of free tickets from lobbyists, which in no way affected how they'd cast votes in session. No, sir.

There were fireworks and concession stands, nightly musical performances and friendly cultural exchanges. Bars were filled to the brim and a mountain of merchandise exchanged hands. The athletic competitions seemed to impress as well. "The Winter Games and all its accouterments is what you make of it," Ben Fulton observed in the Feb. 14 issue. "It's something that's created anew with every moment."

Coming so close on the heels of the Sept. 11 attacks, security was tight. No organized demonstrations would be allowed within secure Olympics areas, to the dismay of groups like the American Civil Liberties Union and Utah Animal Rights Coalition, which had pushed for larger "free speech zones." They and other groups preferred to organize demonstrations around the city as a consequence, such as the mock Olympic torch run by the Citizen Activist Network, Saturday evening vigils against bombings in Afghanistan by Utah's People for Peace and Justice and the Utah Tibetan Association march against the selection of Beijing as host city for the 2008 Summer Games.

"If you stayed home, you're one sorry dog," Saltas wrote on Feb. 21. "In our lifetimes, Salt Lake City will likely never again rise to the scene it is just now witnessing. Being a part of that has been a great occasion that will not be soon forgotten."