
The only thing I didn't like about Utah was how difficult it was to buy a bottle of wine. I felt like a criminal going into a government liquor store to purchase the devil's brew.
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The highlight of my trip was this... Several years ago I came across this photo. It's the grave marker for a wheelchair-bound boy who died at age 11. If you know me, you'll know why it resonated with me so much.
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I was early for a meeting in downtown SLC one morning, so I drove around for a while to kill some time. I found myself next to a cemetery and decided to drive through it. As soon as I pulled in, I remembered that this grave was in Utah, and I had a feeling it might be in the very cemetery where I now found myself. I flagged down an employee and asked him if this grave was there, and of course, it was.
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I was amazed that after having this photo in my mind for years, I was finally standing in front of of the actual thing, live, in person. I gathered some pine cones and put them on the little wheelchair as a tribute to this boy, Matthew Robison, and to all children like him.
I bow in gratitude every day to my precious son Danny for leading me on this path.