My Father, FDR and the Price of Candy during WW II
It took me many years after my father’s death to realize that he was a genetic Democrat. By that I mean someone who had a natural proclivity for thinking about the health of society as a whole, rather than his own narrow interests, as Adam Smith told him he should do. And, although he tolerated me growing up as a Mormon when we lived in Salt Lake City Utah (perhaps for social reasons as we eventually lived in a new suburban, high percentage Mormon community), I later came to appreciate how much he disliked the Mormon Church and even later, as I underwent an early separation from the church, I was able to resonate more deeply with his disinterest in religion in general and Mormonism in particular. Although he never counseled me about religion, his personal emphasis focused on a higher plane of human social interaction, much higher than those we would generally hear about in Sunday school, which were mostly a kind of "do good or loose an organ" type of instructional emphasis. Sunday school was like the installation of a fear policy in 12 not so easy lessons: too many don’ts. But, what really did me in was the Book of Mormon, about which I later came to appreciate the conclusions of Mark Twain, who visited with Brigham Young in Salt Lake and wrote about his experience in "Roughing it–A Personal Narrative." In that hilarious book, Twain read the Book of Mormon and wrote about its structure and the author [Joseph Smith, founder of the Mormon Church]. From the Salamander Website: "Whenever he found his [Joseph Smith's] speech growing too modern, which was about every sentence or two, he labeled in a few such scriptural phrases as, "exceedingly sore," "and it came to pass," etc. and made things satisfactory again. "And it came to pass," was his pet. If he had left that out, his bible would have been only a pamphlet ." I used to develop some kind of vague rash just trying to read that book, which I found to be utterly incomprehensible and silly, although it took a while for the silliness part to sink in. Until then, I thought there must be something wrong with me.
The alternative to religious indoctrination when I was growing up was my father, who was transfixed on ideas about social equality and justice, especially racial equality, which in Utah was easy to think about without taking much action, because there were virtually no blacks in the state at the time. I was probably 10 or 12 before I ever saw a black person in Utah and my very first encounter was with two blacks, a husband and wife who had joined the Mormon church and who worked as servants in the home of a rather well to do neighbor.
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