FLASHBACK 1991: Junior Greider mourns the loss of political idealism to big-time money. 

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In commemoration of City Weekly's 40th anniversary, we are digging into our archives to celebrate. Each week, we FLASHBACK to a story or column from our past in honor of four decades of local alt-journalism. Whether the names and issues are familiar or new, we are grateful to have this unique newspaper to contain them all.

Title: The End of Innocence
Author: Junior Greider
Date: Oct. 29, 1991

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"I need to remember this
So, baby, give me just one kiss
And let me take a long last look
Before we say goodbye"
—Don Henley, "The End of the Innocence"

Make no mistake about it; starting a column with a quote from a song sucks. Boring and predictable, that's what it is. It lacks imagination, wit, or any appearance of cleverness. Problem is, I just can't think of any other way to describe what happened to Dave Jones. Jones wanted desperately to be mayor of Salt Lake. He ran, he lost—lost by 199 votes. If you're one of his supporters that sucks as well. Sucks big time.

Jones had the largest number of volunteers, the most loyal and the poorest. If money is, as they say, the mother's milk of politics, Jones was feeding off one seriously dry nipple. Pardon the expression, but that sucked, too. Jones raised less cash than anyone else, and that would prove his undoing. But Jones did have innocence on his side.

When you're poor and running for office, you go for a walk. You walk in every neighborhood in the city. And you knock on doors. When people answer, you ask for their vote. If you're lucky, they'll say they'll think about it. And if you're really lucky, they'll give you their vote and a tiny patch of land, just big enough for a small sign on the front lawn. It doesn't sound like much, but if you're Dave Jones, giant billboards are too expensive, so a small sign is a big deal.

Jones truly believed he could win by walking more neighborhoods and putting up more lawn signs than anyone else. He believed he could become mayor by simply working harder and caring more than his opponents. That was his innocence. The fact that he got closer than he had any right getting was the innocence of those who worked with him and cared for him.

"Who knows how long this will last
Now we've come so far, so fast
But, somewhere back there in the dust
That same small town in each of us."

Twenty or thirty years ago in Salt Lake City, you could become mayor the old-fashioned way. You could do it with lots of volunteers and a little idealism. That was small town politics. Salt Lake was still a community then, not a big city. But money changed all that. Money buys you TV commercials, name recognition and votes. All it costs is your innocence.

Don Henley sings of a childhood utopia, a place not yet spoiled by adults and politicians. It is a place in a simpler time where the dreams of youth still live on. That's why I think of this song when I think of Dave Jones. Jones had the idealists, the activists and the dreamers in his camp. In short, he had the children, the ones still moved by the magic, the potential, of a political campaign. It was a campaign of innocents.

When I listen to this melancholy song, oddly enough, I don't feel that sad. Maybe losing some but not all of your innocence is not such a bad thing. In a similar vein, I don't feel sad about Dave Jones losing, either. I'm not at all sure he would have been the best mayor. But, I do feel sad for his workers and volunteers, the children. I think of their wide-eyed faces on primary nights, how their early evening optimism was replaced by heartache at midnight. It is their innocence that haunts me and hurts me the most. It is, perhaps, that "same small town in all of us" that bonds me to them.

But, when I think of the "small town" of Salt Lake, I admit I get a little weepy. I suspect if old-fashioned campaigns can no longer win here, then something grand has been lost forever. Gone may be our sense of community, our tradition of fair play, our political soul. We are no longer the type of place Dan Henley sings about in his song. It's only one campaign, but I fear Salt Lake may never be young or innocent again.

"Offer up your best defense
But this is the end
This is the end of the innocence."