Chapter 13: Travelogue

It is practically obligatory for missionaries of the day to take a tour of the continent after completing a European mission. The Canadian missionary Heber J. Matkin – one of the last married missionaries to be called away from his family to serve a full-time mission – hadn’t seen his wife in over two years; yet he still took a 30-day trip to visit Rome, Berlin, Prague, and other European capitals when he completed his service in 1927. Going straight home from a European mission is almost unheard of.

Rulon has been dreaming of his own European tour ever since he was robbed of the prize in the national high school speech competition, purportedly thanks to his father’s polygamous ideas. Much to the annoyance of his missionary companions, he has lived a miser’s life for almost three years, drawing out his and Leo’s hard-earned funds in part to justify the post-mission trip. The former Church president, John Taylor, had famously embarked on his first mission with just a penny in his pocket; with that legacy in mind, Rulon feels that he should surely be able to save a few dollars along the way. As he eats meager meals and refuses to split grocery bills, he constantly reminds his companions of the early missionaries who served “without purse or script.” Behind his back, they change his nickname from the money man to no money, man.

As his missionary service nears its completion, Rulon counts up his savings again and again. He feels the excitement of the pending voyage and constantly thinks of new ways to maximize his mileage by stretching the funds as far as humanly possible. His zealous ambitions to convert entire towns begin to fade in favor of dreams that transport him through ports and train stations across Europe and into the unique architecture of each city.

Just a few weeks before Rulon’s release from service, he is called into the mission president’s office for an interview. Elder Widtsoe has been presiding over the British Mission while serving double duty coordinating all of the European missions. The task is obviously overwhelming, and he is on the verge of overworking himself into a breakdown. Rulon himself had noticed the problem and had helped him draft a request to Salt Lake to reorganize the missions.

“Good news or bad news?” Elder Widtsoe asks Rulon, who stares back at him with a curious expression.

“Why don’t you butter me up with the good news first,” Rulon answers.

“Well, the good news is that our request to reorganize the missions has been granted. There will henceforth be separate British and European missions.”

“And the bad news?”

“Well, the bad news is that the necessary manpower to coordinate the effort will lag behind. It seems that not many have the financial backing to…”

“So…” Rulon interrupts, wishing Elder Widtsoe would just spit it out.

“So we’ll need to rely on our internal resources for the time being,” Elder Widtsoe continues in a dance around the topic.

Rulon furls his brow. He still isn’t clear what is being asked of him.

Elder Widtsoe sighs deeply and leans forward in his chair, carefully crafting the crux of the conversation. “How would you feel about extending your mission by a few months?” he asks.

Rulon shifts nervously in his seat. Postponing the travels he is so much looking forward to will require quite a sacrifice.

“I have a hundred and fifty dollars in a personal account in the bank,” Elder Widtsoe offered, “That should be more than enough to cover your expenses for an additional three months.”

Rulon thinks long and hard and finally consents. “Well, I guess if that’s what the Lord expects of me, I can answer the call.”

“I’m glad to see this attitude from you. I’m sure the Lord will bless you materially so that you can repay me as soon as possible on your return.”

“Repay you?” Rulon blurts, trying not to shout, “You mean to say it’s just a loan?”

“Like I said, I’m certain the Lord will…”

“You don’t understand. I have no intention of going into debt. To anyone. Ever!” Rulon begins to absorb the little tidbit of information that is effectively crushing his dream as they speak. Financing the extension on his own would take every penny he has saved and more. He realizes in that moment that the question is not one of postponing his dream; the dream is being eliminated in its entirety.

Elder Widtsoe scoots back in his chair to add some distance to the tirade he sees coming.

“It’s easy for you to ask for this – you got to travel the world as a student and as a missionary at the same time,” Rulon counters, raising his voice, “but I spent my time stuck inside this office!”

Elder Widtsoe stands up and closes the door to dim the noise, trying to bring Rulon back to serenity with a calming compliment. “You are a brilliant, exceptional missionary,” Elder Widtsoe says, “Where much is given, much is required.”

Rulon takes a deep breath and is just beginning to calm down a bit when he received another jolt.

“Besides,” Elder Widtsoe adds, “Joseph Merrill will be arriving shortly to supervise this office; he is a distinguished educator and I’m sure you will be able to learn a great deal from him.”

He doesn’t realize the force of the impact with which this revelation hits Rulon. As Commissioner of Church Education, Elder Merrill had recommended and personally supervised over the closing of L.D.S. High. Rulon continues to resent him for giving up on his alma mater, and the idea of a close personal association with him is certainly not appealing.

“I’ve served my time; I’ve already paid my dues!” Rulon says flatly.

Disappointed that he hasn’t been able to console Rulon, Elder Widtsoe resorts to the last arrow in his quiver. “You have made a covenant that obligates you to this service,” he says sternly, “So remember, this is a decision you have already made. You have consecrated all of your efforts and increase to the Lord. With this request, he intends to collect on just a small part of that promise…unless, of course, you plan to retract your word to the Lord.”

Rulon stirs uncomfortably in his seat. “Well that’s a low blow,” he says under his breath.

“Bear in mind that this is not the military,” Elder Widtsoe reminds him, “I have no earthly authority to compel you into conscription. You do still have a choice.”

“Some choice!” says Rulon.

“But if you do not heed this call,” Elder Widtsoe warns, “I am convinced that He will stop calling.” He closes his notebook like the deal is done.

Rulon is stunned by the blunt warning and finds himself unable to answer.

“Go to your flat and pray about it,” Elder Widtsoe advises, “and come back to me with your answer tomorrow.”

It is a sleepless night for Rulon. The next morning, he raises the issue with his companion, Elder Tolman; at first he approaches the topic cautiously, but then he begins to bluntly question whether Elder Widtsoe is even suited to run a mission. Elder Tolman quickly expresses concerns that Rulon might be going astray. Rulon argues back that those in supposed authority might themselves be going astray, taking true followers of the gospel even further from the historical message of the Restoration. The startled look on Elder Tolman’s face convinces Rulon to keep further thoughts to himself.

Can’t the Church coffers fund another missionary to take his place, he wonders. He thinks about sending a telegram to President Grant to find out. But he knows full well that the Church is in dire financial straits; in fact, President Grant is busy at that very moment trying to convince doubtful Utahans that Zion’s Bank will not fail. He also knows that Salt Lake is requiring individual church units abroad to be self-sufficient for the time being; those that aren’t able to stand on their own are sacrificed to avoid pulling the others down. Hamp had written to Rulon about Naumburg and other areas that were closing; it is obvious that tough choices are being made everywhere. No central bailout from Salt Lake will be coming; that much is clear. Out of options, Rulon feels trapped.

The next morning, he walks into Elder Widtsoe’s office and consents to the deal. He acts out of duty, but the damage is done; though he gives the gift, it is given begrudgingly. When he receives travel postcards from his fellow missionaries over the ensuing months, he feels the sting even deeper. The resentment simmers inside of him as he stares at images of other elders in front of the Eiffel Tower, the Brandenburg Gate, and the Vatican. Doesn’t he deserve the same reward for his services?

~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, fresh from his exit interview with President Budge, Hamp prepares for his own trip. With a few hours before his train departs, he takes his last chance to mingle with his missionary friends who had attended the mission conference in Berlin. Herbie, for one, simply can’t imagine having the funds and freedom to travel, but he excitedly pores over Hamp’s maps with him. With German Reichsmarks outperforming the greenback, Hamp reworks his highly detailed travel budget, hoping the updated exchange rate will help stretch his converted funds even further. He traces countless paths around Europe on his worn-out map, each with an accompanying price tag that – despite the favorable exchange rate – is still too high; something will have to give.

For years, the crux of his planned trip has been the Boy Scout World Jamboree in Budapest. Thousands of his fellow scouts are flooding the continent to attend the festivities, and the stars have aligned to place the Jamboree right in the middle of Hamp’s itinerary. It is a gathering of nations, intended to solidify friendships between Scouts from around the word.

Hitler himself has taken note of the occasion; he responds by sending German Scouts to Hungary as his eyes and ears. He intends to use their feedback to refine his own, carefully crafted youth program. Rudyard Kipling, who had inspired much of the Boy Scout symbolism, has recently been forced to stop using the swastika in his correspondence after finding the symbol abducted by the Nazis. He is about to find his other imagery hijacked in an incomprehensible manner as Hitler discovers the Boy Scouts’ methods to be quite effective – despite the underlying ideological differences – in getting youth motivated, united, and excited about a cause.

Hamp is not overly concerned about the political overtones surrounding the occasion; surely the brotherhood encapsulated in this gathering will combat and utterly defeat any animosity. Attending the Jamboree really represents a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for an Eagle Scout like Hamp. Having finally heeded President Grant’s call after high school by joining the scouts, Hamp had even promised President Grant that he would bring him back a souvenir patch from the event when he returns to report on his mission.

He tries every possible scenario in his ledger book, but it just doesn’t fit within the budget and schedule. It will add too much time and cost to his trip; he can take a tour of Europe, or he can attend the Jamboree, but he cannot do both. After wavering over the decision, he finally decides to strike the Jamboree from his itinerary. Missed opportunities have always been a hard swallow for him, and he second guesses his decision over and over, trying to work out a scenario that will allow him to fit everything back in. He even debates getting a job for a week or two to finance his adventure. His accordion skills are nowhere near good enough for busking, but that thought crosses his mind as well.

“Maybe they’ll pay you to stop playing,” Herbie jokes when he brings up the idea.

“Someday when I’m rich,” Hamp mutters, “I’ll kick myself for having scrapped this chance for lack of funds.”

With the eastern leg eliminated, he still needs any money he can scrounge together to complete his circle around Western Europe. As his map receives its final draft, he decides to sell the accordion along with his typewriter in order to keep a leg in Italy’s boot.

Hamp takes his suitcases and camera in hand while Herbie and the other missionaries carry his typewriter and accordion. They hit the pawn shop on the way to the train station, but Hamp only gets a few marks in exchange for his items; it is a painful parting since he had so much been looking forward to showing Mimi that he had learned to play an instrument.

The entourage heads to Anhalter Bahnhof to bid farewell to Hamp. He will see his American companions soon enough in the Crossroads of the West, but Hamp has mixed emotions at the farewell, not knowing when he might see Herbie and his other German friends again.

“Well, perhaps you can come right back for the Games,” Herbie says as they wait for the slow-moving train to pull into the station, “I hear Hitler is looking among the Americans missionaries for someone to coach his Olympic basketball team.”

“Maybe I’ll apply for the job,” Hamp jokes, “but three years is nowhere near long enough to train the German team. Your Korbball hoops don’t even have backboards! You might as well try to train the chimps in the Tiergarten.”

“Well, even though you can’t play Korbball worth beans,” Herbie says in jest, “maybe you’ll fool him with your height when you come back to take the job.”

The jokes are intended as distractions, and the conversation soon turns to more serious topics. They have felt the winds of war blowing their way and wonder if their next meeting might be on the battlefield.

“If our countries go to war,” Hamp asks, “they might make you shoot at me.”

“Not a chance, my friend,” Herbie says sincerely, “If they tried to force me to fight you, I’d rather take a bullet from my own side.”

The others in the small group nod, not realizing how serious a pact this will turn out to be.

“I feel the same way,” Hamp says as the train’s whistle blows. They shake hands and part ways with genuine embraces – little can they imagine this will mark the last time they ever meet in person.

“Bis aufs Wiedersehen, meine Freunde,” Hamp calls from the train’s window as it pulls away. Three years before, that had been the only German phrase he knew; a lifetime seems to have elapsed in the meantime. His companions wave from the platform until the train disappears from sight. As he opens the cover of his travel journal and begins his first entry, all of history seems poised in the blocks, awaiting a starting gun for an uncharted race. The fate of Western civilization itself is at stake, and Hamp readies his pen and camera to capture every scene along the way.

First on his itinerary is Scandinavia. The train arrives on the Baltic Sea Coast, and Hamp boards a ferry for Sweden. After docking in Stockholm, he takes in the sights of the city via a jarring street car ride and notes the “young street car conductors, left-handed traffic, blue-eyed people, and wonderful meals,” in his journal. He takes a boat trip to the National Museum and to the little island with the King’s summer residence. From Stockholm he takes a scenic train ride to Oslo and is stunned by Norway’s luscious, green terrain.

“Mountainous scenery, innumerable lakes, viking ships, and ski jumps,” Hamp notes after his first day in Oslo. Though the distant glaciers and meandering fjords beckon him to head north, he sticks to his planned itinerary and boards a ferry south to Denmark, where the signs of the worldwide economic depression are less obvious but still having an impact.

He is unaware of the unassuming toymaker in nearby Billund, for instance, who debates what new innovation might insulate him from future swings in the economy and from the fires that keep burning his wooden toy shop to the ground. Lego is at the moment one of the front-running alternatives in a naming contest designed to mark a new beginning for the rebuilt factory – doomed to burn down again before finally being retooled with injection molding machines.

In Denmark, Hamp spends a very long day taking in Copenhagen’s famous landmarks. He is uninspired by the almost inconspicuous Little Mermaid in the harbor, but the original Thorvaldsen Christus in the National Cathedral impresses him deeply; on viewing the statue, he understands immediately why textbooks declare it the “most perfect statue of Christ in the world,” and why Mormons would adopt it as their own.

Tivoli Gardens, in contrast, offers some scenes one wouldn’t encounter in Salt Lake. “Girls in abundance…smoking cigars!” he dutifully notes.

The revelous atmosphere in Tivoli is a non-stop party, but it hides the subtle terror that is beginning to brew along Denmark’s southern border. As Hamp boards the train to re-enter Germany – this time as a tourist – a young, politically motivated German fellow named Willy Brandt, having been labeled a communist, passes the other way to escape persecution and an otherwise certain demise at the hands of the Nazis. In the coming decades, their destinies will bring them together again in a manner no one can foretell.

Hamp’s train arrives in Hamburg and he spends several days in Germany’s “Gateway to the World.” Nazi propaganda seems refreshingly absent in Hamburg compared to the onslaught Hamp had grown accustomed to in Berlin. After taking a harbor cruise around the bustling port and up the Elbe River, he visits art museums, the Reeperbahn, and the Bismarck Memorial.

During his tour of the port, he finds himself in the company of numerous American expatriates who have turned out to welcome the arrival of the newly appointed U.S. Ambassador to Germany, William Dodd. As it turns out, Dodd’s arrival explains why the Nazis have remained effectively behind the scenes during Hamp’s stay in Hamburg; Ambassador Dodd had just accompanied Franklin Deleno Roosevelt, Jr. across the Atlantic, and the Nazis are interested in carefully manipulating the scene around the ambassador to ensure that no unfavorable reports will jeopardize trade relations between the nations. Dodd will not remain blinded for long, however; after opening his eyes to the real picture of German ambitions, he soon begins to actively campaign against the Nazis.

From Hamburg, Hamp heads south to Nuremberg. He takes a brisk walk up to its famous castle overlooking the Christkindl market place and admires the clock towers that serenade him at regular intervals. In contrast to the melodic chimes of the bells, bands play military marches at every corner, trying to get the practicing troops to maneuver with the same precision as their snare drummers. While many of Nuremberg’s residents feel great pride in being the centerpiece of Hitler’s display, some elements of society are struck with fear at the underlying message. Watching these same drills from his Nuremberg apartment window, for example, is a ten-year old, Jewish schoolboy named Heinz Kissinger, who will someday help to shape the balance of world politics with these foreboding scenes forever etched into his mind.

The Nazis are staging their first Reichsparteitag all across the city, and Leni Riefenstahl is busy setting the framework for her infamous footage that will spawn ever grander gatherings in Nuremberg. Taken aback by the sights from this vantage point, Hamp next enters the castle museum and photographs the famous Iron Maiden of Nuremberg; he is horrified and fascinated at the same time by the medieval torture tools. German visitors to the museum are likewise appalled, grateful that civilization has graduated beyond these primeval acts. Little do they know, in cellars and isolated work camps around Germany, the brownshirts are resurrecting the techniques of the inquisition, demonizing communism and other ideologies to the same degree as witchcraft had been a few centuries before.

Giving in to his interest in aeronautics, Hamp tours the Nuremberg Luftschutzausstellung. The schutz – or protection – in the air power exhibit’s title implies a passive, defensive, and protective role, but behind the scenes, clear plans denote that the purpose of these war machines is to rain Blitzkrieg down on Germany’s neighbors as a Luftwaffe – a weapon of the air. It is touted as an industrial exhibit, meant to convince visitors that Germany has cast off the shackles of economic hardship, but Hamp finally recognizes the ultimate vector of this belligerent course.

While propaganda leaflets roll off the presses, the German daily newspapers portray a one-sided view of an America still struggling to find its way out of the Great Depression; let the Americans wallow in their left-wing attempts at reconstruction, mock the Nazis, to whom the pomp and fanfare of the recent rallies symbolize a far brighter future for Germany. Hamp thinks about the dismal conditions back home and wonders if some charismatic figure might try to latch onto an opportunity to steer the United States toward militarism in like manner.

As he boards another train to head deeper into the picturesque alpine backdrop of Bavaria, Hamp can imagine how this majestic scenery instills a sense of nationalistic pride and patriotism in its people. Just how far they will be willing to take that pride, however, no one can predict.

As the train makes its way up the steep grades of the highlands, he passes the village of Bamberg, where a young teenager named Hans Baumann has just finished composing the lyrics to a song that will be twisted into a rallying cry for the Nazi Youth. Though his words proclaim freedom from the bonds of war, through a subtle change in a single syllable by his sinister leaders, the meaning is transformed from “tomorrow the world will hear us,” to “tomorrow the world is ours!”

These lyrics would eventually inspire the song Tomorrow Belongs to Me, sung in the idyllic setting of a Bavarian village in the musical Cabaret. In fact, Hamp passes the Gasthaus Walderuh itself, which served as the celluloid setting for the fictional, young Aryan to stand up and sing:

The sun on the meadow is summery warm,

The stag in the forest runs free.

But gather together to greet the storm,

Tomorrow belongs to me!

Oh fatherland, fatherland, show us the sign,

Your children have waited to see.

The morning will come when the world is mine,

Tomorrow belongs to me!

With the decimation of the Great War fresh on their minds, the old pipe-smoking farmers – drinking their beer after a hard day’s work – wonder what ill this youthful arrogance might spawn. Just down the road, the answer to this question is disguised in the Dachau concentration camp, which by all maps and newsprint accounts is still being flaunted as a “re-education” facility. Its true purpose will remain hidden for years to come.

Hamp stops in Munich for a time and visits the Hofbräuhaus, Deutsches Museum, Frauenkirche, and finally Leuchtenberg Palace – the home of King Rupprecht, the Crown Prince of Bavaria. The palace is abuzz with excitement; on the day of Hamp’s arrival, newspaper headlines hail the birth of Duke Franz of Bavaria, considered by the Jacobites to be the heir to the throne of England. Despite the upbeat attitude among the royals, they are fighting a losing battle against the Nazis. Many wonder whether the new world has any place for a monarchy – another question Dachau will answer with a vengeance soon enough. With impostors continuing to fuel the media debate since her disappearance ten years before, Anastasia’s well publicized demise now foreshadows the fate that will likewise befall many of Germany’s royal heirs.

As he continues his jaunt southward toward Salzburg, Hamp describes this leg as “the most beautiful and picturesque ride so far on the journey…saw homes and towns just as one sees them pictured and described in books. The mountains are magnificent!”

Lavish castles constructed by the mad King Ludwig dot the mountainsides; in Salzburg, members of the very real Von Trapp family are taking up music lessons and unwittingly preparing themselves to battle a new breed of madness.

Hamp continues on to Vienna, where Sigmund Freud is busy writing to Albert Einstein in his Swiss exile. He visits the Austrian treasury and the botanical gardens, rides the giant Ferris wheel, and takes a swim in the Dianabad wave pool. That evening, after purchasing a ticket for the understandably anticlimactic flea circus, he attends a mid-week priesthood meeting with the Vienna Ward Elders Quorum and is not surprised to find the discussions revolving entirely around politics.

From Vienna he continues his journey westward through the Alps. As they pass Graz, a new Nazi recruit named Gustav Schwarzenegger reads his requisite propaganda, not knowing that his actions will someday haunt his son’s political career. In the nearby mountains, a teenager named Heinrich Harrer scales peaks that will inspire him to climb ever higher until he finally finds himself mentoring the Dalai Lama for seven years in exile at the top of the world in Tibet.

The train descends out of the Alps and turns south to Venice. Hamp is quite impressed with the city; he tours palaces, museums, markets, and a stained glass factory where he ends up with souvenirs he hadn’t intended to purchase. In his travel journal, he records his thoughts: “Venice, the city of bridges, canals, gondolas, cats, pretty, dark-haired girls, and high-pressure salesmen.”

The train passes through forty-five tunnels in one hour – according to Hamp’s count – along the way to Florence. The stay in Florence is short-lived; Hamp briefly sees some of Michelangelo’s works and buys some leather goods from artisans on the street but has to hurry on to Rome if he wishes to be in the audience as they are blessed by Pope Pious XI. The Holy See, incidentally, had just signed the controversial Reichskonkordant the previous week; as a result, hundreds of millions of Catholics now find themselves effectively bound to nonaggression against the Nazis – many will use it as a reason to stay passive until it is far too late.

Hamp finds Rome to be a fascinating city; after being in the packed audience of the Pope, he spends four days wandering through Rome’s endless alleyways. His journal notes the “ruins, fountains, and churches at every turn.” With its rampant tourism industry in full swing, Rome seems stable enough, but had he remained on the train for another few hours and reached the toe of Italy’s boot, Hamp would have encountered a strikingly different scene. At that moment, an excommunicated minister named Vincenzo di Francesca is sitting in his Sicilian house lamenting the loss of his religious tracts – destroyed by the local police – while eagerly awaiting his baptism into the LDS fold. Having been prevented from entering the mainland by clashes between Mussolini’s fascists and the opposing forces, his previous attempts to meet Church officials had failed. Little does he know, it will take many further thwarted attempts along with another twenty years of correspondence with Heber J. Grant, Hugh Brown, John Widtsoe, Joseph Merrill, and others before he would finally experience for himself what he had only read about in the cover-less book he had recovered from a smoldering trash heap in New York; he could only imagine how rare a possession that book would turn out to be.

After taking a few extra photos of the Patria for the Toronto boys, Hamp boards a train out of Rome and notes that the uncomfortable ride is the “hottest ride yet, just about baked clear through.” His train takes him to Pisa, Genoa, and Milan, which he finds himelf rushing through given the heat; to his relief, the temperature drops quickly with the climb in elevation as he takes the Alpine train to Switzerland.

The scenery holds him captive, but the Swiss leg of the trek is over all too soon. As the train begins its steep descent out of the French Alps, he admires the setting of the quaint, local villages. These French country towns seem like something straight out of the fairy tale movies. In fact, Walt Disney had traversed this same route as an ambulance driver following the Great War; these scenes undoubtedly inspired his imagination with models for his future animated cities.

Hamp spends four days in Paris, where the Moulin Rouge is in full swing. While attempting to avoid these seedier sides, he takes in the obligatory sights of the City of Light. Picasso is busy churning out cubist artwork from his local studio, but the Parisian political rifts are less abstract. Left-wing elements in France are rising in stark contrast to their right-wing neighbors. France harbors communists and anarchists, for example, including the disenchanted American Reds Louise Bryant and Emma Goldman. Having just granted Leon Trotsky French asylum, in fact, the Radical Prime Minister leaves many Parisians fearing repercussions of the underground, international espionage network that is forming – a network that would ultimately put an ice pick in Trotsky’s head. Unaware of the competing forces that are lurking about him, Hamp poses for pictures with the Eiffel Tower as a backdrop and captures many more landmarks on film for his sister Margaret.

From Paris, Hamp travels to Amsterdam, where he takes in a show and a canal cruise. He is fascinated by the unique architecture, particularly the narrow rows of merchants’ houses rising high above the canals. He finds the city to be much cleaner than his previous destinations: “Like Venice, but smells better.”

As the moon rises in the summer sky, it reflects over the still water along with the electric light of the endless restaurants and beer gardens that line the canals. There is an atmosphere of revelry about, but the ominous waves of fear are not far behind. Just a few blocks from Hamp’s hotel, a businessman named Otto Frank, having just arrived after fleeing from Germany, spends his evening making covert contacts to scout out potential apartments for his family. As Hamp wanders around freely as a tourist, Otto is carefully and secretively organizing the rest of his family’s exodus from Germany, acting on his premonitions to prepare for a prolonged period of isolation.

As dawn breaks, the air is still warm, and Hamp makes his way to the port to prepare for his ferry voyage across the English Channel. His whirlwind tour of Europe comes to a close later that day in London. After visiting the Tate Gallery and the wax museum, he still has a few days before his ship is to set sail. He wonders if he should have taken in a few extra days elsewhere, but his funds are now depleted so the point is moot.

Hamp walks along London’s busy streets and has a hard time getting used to hearing English at every turn. Newsies on the street corners peddle papers proclaiming the rising German threat to the island fortress. Hamp stops to read the headlines, but most passersby can’t be bothered by the reports. He ducks in and out of the shops on Oxford Street and catches Winston Churchill’s voice warning of German belligerence over a shopkeeper’s radio. Churchill – having been ousted from office and still serving his penance for the disaster of Gallipoli – tirelessly preaches his cautionary message from the wilderness over the radio waves.

Out of money for tourist activities, Hamp decides to drop in on the mission home, which, in fact – in fulfillment of Churchill’s prophetic warnings – would ultimately be struck and destroyed by a lethal rocket during the London Blitz. Hamp’s old friend and classmate, Homer, is busy conducting his secretarial duties and proving his prowess as an organizer in the newly relocated British and European Mission Offices.

“Well hello my friend!” Homer says with a smile after Hamp rings the bell outside his office.

“How have you been?” asks Hamp.

“Before we get into our mission adventures, I only have one question for you,” Homer says smugly, “Did you got a Dear John letter?”

Hamp’s expression can’t conceal the truth, and Homer makes no effort to mask the smirk on his own face.

“Well I guess I owe you lunch, then,” Hamp concedes.

“After all of that traveling, I presume you’re broke for the time being,” Homer offers, “so how about you pay me back when we’re home in Utah?”

Hamp consents to the raincheck. Though they laugh about it, the painful circumstance of Dot’s last correspondence with him stirs up other, more somber memories.

Homer notices the change in Hamp’s countenance and quickly changes the focus. “Have a seat,” Homer says, “Remember this picture?” From his bible, he pulls out the photograph Betty had snapped of the four of them on commencement night during the Rooftop Garden dance.

“Boy that was a long time ago,” Hamp says – then recites a phrase that he would often repeat in his journals: “Them were the good old days!”

“Who would have thought that night we’d all end up as globetrotters?” asks Homer. He then points to the book in Hamp’s hand and says, “So, tell me about your adventures!”

In his travel journal – besides his impressions of the various places he visited – Hamp had been keeping track of restaurants, hotels, and anything else that might interest future travelers. Meal and lodging prices, rail and bus fares, travel distances, timetables and other details are recorded, including Hamp’s own rating scale of the service. Homer is keenly interested in the detailed itinerary.

“Too bad Gordon’s traveling with the mission president today,” Homer says, “He’d be interested in this too. We’re hoping to take our own tour of the continent when we finish, so we could definitely use any advice that might save us a few pennies.”

They pore over the budget figures and itinerary together. Homer draws up his own map and jots down notes next to each stop.

“Now I know you’re still a missionary,” Hamp adds with a grin, “but if you need something to look forward to, let me tell you about the girls in Sweden…Wow!”

“I don’t think I’ll be interested in the girls there,” Homer says, folding up his map.

Hamp gives him a curious look. “Oh?”

“I’ll tell you a secret if you promise not to tell another soul,” Homer says quietly. He continues – anxious to spit it out – before Hamp even has a chance to agree to the terms. “You know Elder Widtsoe’s daughter, Eudora?”

Hamp nods.

“Well, we haven’t spoken a word to each other – I wouldn’t dare with Elder Widtsoe watching – but the way she looks at me, I think there’s something there!”

“Keep those blinders on, Elder!” Hamp jokes.

“She really is something special,” Homer confides.

“And you really seem smitten,” Hamp adds.

“I’ll give you an example, and then you can tell me whether you agree,” says Homer, “You know George Bernard Shaw?”

“The playwright?” Hamp asks, “Miss Stewart would have flunked me if I didn’t.”

“Well, he’s been writing about the Mormons,” Homer complains, “and Elder Widtsoe had asked me and Gordon what we might do to combat the bad press.”

“Make your own press?” Hamp suggests.

“That’s essentially what we wanted to do,” Homer says, “so we came up with a list of statements we might publish to set the record straight.”

“So where does Eudora fit in?”

“Well, her father told her about the problem, and she said, ‘why don’t we just invite him over?’”

“Fat chance!” Hamp interjects.

Homer nods in agreement. “That’s what I thought, too,” he said, “and Elder Widtsoe agreed with me. But you know what she did?”

Hamp shrugs his shoulders.

“All on her own she wrote him a letter and told him the truth about the Mormons. Then she told him he’s welcome to come over to discuss further.”

“So what did he say?”

“Well you know what? He actually came to dinner with the Widtsoes!” Homer says with astonishment, “and not only that, he invited the whole Widtsoe family back to his mansion for tea as well, complete with the high society of British aristocracy.”

Having expected Hamp to be more impressed, Homer adds, “Now ever since those meetings, Mr. Shaw has been making positive statements about the Mormons in his writings; do you know how huge a coup that actually is for us here?”

“Well I imagine we Mormon apologists could publish a dozen rebuttals and never have the same influence,” Hamp says.

“That’s right, he’s a household name here,” Homer brags, “In fact, I read that Shavian has been added to the new Oxford dictionary just to describe his school of thought.”

“It sounds like Elder Widtsoe should fire you and Gordon and replace the both of you with Eudora,” jokes Hamp.

“Hey!” Homer counters.

“Well, in any case you’re certainly right about her being something special,” Hamp says, “but you’d better keep your eyes off her until you’re safely out of jail here. Care to make a wager concerning your chances with her?”

“While I’m ahead in our little game,” Homer answers, “I think I’ll stop wagering. But if things go my way, you’ll be taking the two of us to lunch together when you finally pay up in Utah.”

They share some more mission stories, and then Homer returns Hamp’s favor by giving him suggestions for sights to see on his cross-country trip home. Homer and Gordon had stopped at Church historical sites and at the World Fair in Chicago on their way east to the Port of New York. The fair will still be in full swing during Hamp’s journey home, so Homer makes him a list of his favorite, must-see exhibits. Though Hamp is excited about the World Fair, Homer had actually been more moved by the Church history tour and offers plenty of advice along those lines as well.

“You have got to see Nauvoo,” Homer tells him, “The sight of a temple in ruins is a bit shocking, but Gordon thinks we’ll rebuild it someday. Wouldn’t that be grand?”

Hamp agrees, but tries to be pragmatic. “It would take quite a miracle in this economy, that’s for sure,” he adds. “Why don’t you get Eudora to write a letter to FDR; perhaps she can get him to add the temple reconstruction to his New Deal.”

“Well I might do just that,” Homer says emphatically.

“In any case, I’ll be sure to see the grounds on my way home,” Hamp says.

“Well if I tell Eudora about it, don’t be surprised if the whole job corps has been mobilized by the time you get there,” Homer says with a laugh, “Don’t think she couldn’t do it!”

“I’m sure she could, no doubt,” Hamp agrees. “Well, speaking of work,” he adds, glancing at the piles of paper on Homer’s desk, “I had better let you put your shoulder back to the wheel.”

“Yes, duty calls,” says Homer, “Rulon did a good job splitting his files between the two presidents, but somehow we still can’t seem to catch up.”

“Well then,” says Hamp, “I guess I’ll see you back in the Promised Land!”

With that, they make their way out to the noisy steps outside the mission office, snap a photo together, and part ways. Hamp heads to the U.S. Lines dock to embark on a transatlantic voyage, and Homer heads back to work, trying his hardest – without much success – not to think about Eudora.

Homer and Gordon continue their missions, fulfilling administrative duties while assigned to the mission office but also teaching and preaching in their “spare” time. In addition, they do their best to update and refine the teaching materials, tracts, and other literature that is distributed to investigators of Mormonism.

By the time their service nears an end, the newly ordained Apostle Joseph F. Merrill has replaced Elder Widtsoe at the helm of the European Mission. With a few weeks to go before their official release date, President Merrill calls Gordon into his office.

“Elder Hinckley,” President Merrill begins, “you have been an exceptional missionary – second to none.”

Gordon shifts uncomfortably in his seat; on top of his disdain for adulation, Rulon had warned him about a similar conversation that had begun with that sort of flattery.

“I’ve written to Salt Lake,” President Merrill says, “and told them about your efforts in putting together presentation materials for the mission.”

Gordon leans forward in his seat.

“The Brethren would like you to institute a similar program Church-wide,” President Merrill continues, beaming with all the pride that a championship coach feels for his star player, “I hope you don’t mind that I told them you could start immediately.”

Gordon feels a lump in his throat. Like Rulon, his dreams of traveling around Europe are being dashed before his eyes. Instead of a temporary extension, however, this assignment has no end date.

“I’ll be there,” he says after a brief hesitation, not knowing that he has just made a life-long career move.

Gordon tells Homer about the change in plans that night; Homer is obviously disappointed that he will be without a travel companion for his European tour, but he is certain that Gordon is the Church’s best man for the job.

The offer, however, turns out to be only an Abrahamic test of Gordon’s willingness. President Merrill had unknowingly jumped the gun; it will actually take Salt Lake some time to prepare for Gordon’s arrival, he is told. The next day Gordon receives a telegram from the Office of the First Presidency. He is to report to President Grant in six weeks’ time. “Six weeks?” he says to himself again and again, the anticipation building inside of him each time he repeats the words. That will give him plenty of time to tour the continent! He excitedly contacts Homer to tell him the good news.

On completion of their missionary service the following week, Homer and Gordon cross the English Channel and embark on their own European tour. Armed with Hamp’s notes, they follow his circle in reverse, with a few of the legs scaled back for their own lack of funds.

Most importantly to Gordon, he is finally able to fulfill the promise made to his late mother; after a quick tour around Paris, their train heads out through the French countryside, and they disembark in a village surrounded by a vast cemetery honoring innumerable war dead. They wander through the cemetery and finally find the cross marking Stanford’s final resting place. Gordon is choked up as he dedicates the grave; he barely remembers his brother, but he clearly remembers the somber circle of immediate family members who had mourned together on a frigid winter night back in their humble home in East Mill Creek. No public memorial services had been allowed due to the same Spanish Flu epidemic that had taken Stanford’s life in a French military hospital, and Gordon had always felt a lack of closure without a service. He realizes in that moment, though, that his tears are not just for his brother, but for the vivid picture of his mother, who had stood on that very spot a few years earlier to lay a wreath. He feels Ada’s spirit along with the presence of ministering angels who bear up his grief; if there has ever been a point in his life in which the veil seemed thin, this is it.

As they continue their journey, they are stunned by the spectacle in the streets of Nuremberg, where the fledgling Reichsparteitag rally that Hamp had witnessed has in the meanwhile burgeoned into a nationalistic showcase like no other. Adjacent to the vast parade grounds, the foundations are laid for a stadium design that will – with a capacity of almost half a million spectators – dwarf every other stadium on the planet. Homer and Gordon are in awe of the goose-stepping shock troops and the intense pride they instill in the spectators who line the streets; they both note premonitions in their journals that no good can come of this. While they now sense the direction of the course, however, its magnitude is absolutely incomprehensible. The spectators cheer, but little do they know that this intense, swelling pride will give way to the greatest shame the world has ever known. Those who seek to rule the world will be humbled like no fallen empire before.

Entire cities – including Nuremberg – will be leveled to the ground, the collapsing buildings taking with them entire families and their histories. Among them, the Böing family archives, housed in a medieval fortress, will be destroyed by bombs raining down from their namesake Boeing bombers as they systematically raze every metropolitan area. Even the Iron Maiden of Nuremberg herself will be blown apart by a direct hit from an allied bomb.

Within a decade – in trials set among the cinders and ashes of this ruined city – many of those directing the steps of the rallied troops Homer and Gordon observe will find themselves condemned for unspeakable acts, with their war crimes broadcast around the world as the absolute epitome of evil. Truly, there is no more fitting fulfillment of the promise that “the first shall be last and the last shall be first.”

The duo continue on to Berlin, where the Welthauptstadt Germania is well on its way to earning its status as a world capital city. Architect Albert Speer had personally shut down the Bauhaus and every other creative source that might produce designs counter to his blueprint. Entire blocks of historical buildings have been razed to make way for the vision’s implementation. First on the agenda – and now well underway – is a showcase for the Olympic Games; future projects still in the planning phase are on a gargantuan scale, including the largest dome ever engineered. Meanwhile, German architects, artists, writers, and scientists are emigrating in unprecedented numbers. As they flee, yes-men are appointed to fill the voids in the talent pool, leaving the future of Berlin in the hands of Hitler’s sycophantic posse.

Homer and Gordon are dumbfounded at the sights but are pleased to be able to sit down in a familiar setting by attending a sacrament meeting in Berlin. Scattered among the native Germans are a few familiar, American missionaries who translate the services for them. The following day, they leave the tumultuous scene and – after spending a few hours on the train – board a transatlantic steamer bound for New York Harbor. They follow the same route Rulon and Hamp had taken some time before; with Europe at their backs, their thoughts turn inward and homeward. Like thousands of missionaries before them, they all face similar, retrospective emotions on the week-long voyage home.

~~~~~~~~

Hamp enjoys the sea passage initially; after their first day at sea he records that “a great time was had by all.” He is happy to be in the company of so many Americans once again as they exchange stories, opinions, and impressions of the signs of the times. He had missed much of the stateside news over the previous years and has a lot of catching up to do.

He overhears and joins in on many conversations that revolve around one of his favorite topics: aeroplanes. On the day of their departure from Great Britain, Charles Lindbergh – putting aside his personal tragedies in favor of advocating Germany’s military might – had flown overhead and wagged his wings to the cheering crowd. The atmosphere on board is contagiously optimistic as many of the passengers wonder aloud what record Lindy might break next.

Conditions soon change after a few days at sea, however; Hamp writes that “the sea was certainly in a bad mood today, and we were tossed around like a cork.” Nearly everyone on board is sick by the time they dock in New York, but Hamp is still in good spirits, knowing that his mother and sisters will be there to greet him in a joyous reunion.

The Port of New York is a flurry of activity, and the reunion is delayed by endless customs lines. Ships arrive from every corner of the globe in a chaotic frenzy, and the content and passengers all must be processed. Along with the returning missionaries, the lot includes tradesmen and socialites, immigrants and exiles, political refugees and asylum seekers. It is an almost comically absurd gathering; in a nearby Brooklyn apartment, a fat little 5-year-old, confined to his bedroom by scarlet fever, watches from his window as the immigrants arrive – among them the very scary Sendak relatives from Poland; little Maurice will eventually model the characters in his books after these real-life wild things. The sights of diverse vessels, the sounds of foreign tongues of every sort, and the smells of the imported goods contribute to overwhelm the senses.

After finally reuniting with his family, Hamp is excited to show them the sights of the city; they tour the Statue of Liberty and take in the National Broadcast. Despite the financial depression, showbiz has thrived in the meantime; Radio City Music Hall had opened the previous year, and together they take in a show there. The skyline has likewise transformed since Hamp’s visit almost three years before. Unpredictable winds had nixed the construction of the Empire State Building’s dirigible gangway, but the Rockefeller Center’s GE Building is nearly complete and now proudly overlooks Central Park. Steelworkers sit on the girders, smoking their cigarettes and trading snacks, as memorialized in Ebbets’ high-altitude photograph Lunchtime atop a Skyscraper.

Hamp is likewise stunned by John Heisman’s newly completed Downtown Athletic Club building, a high-rise that serves as the site for the annual award of the most coveted football trophy in the nation. It is a revolutionary structure that has its pools, courts, and weight rooms scattered about the floors of the 35-story edifice. Hamp notes that the old Deseret Gym would fit into the building ten times over; he buys postcards of the building to send to Gordon and Homer. “Imagine having to clean this gym!” he writes.

New York is a vibrant scene, no doubt, but political strife is now adding to the racial tensions that have been a part the Big Apple’s history since its inception. For the time being, the major battles are confined in proxy to the boxing arena, and placards at every turn proclaim the upcoming match-ups at Madison Square Garden and other iconic venues. Just a few weeks before, the German prize fighter Max Schmeling had been bested by “the killer” Max Baer, who bore the Star of David on his shorts for the fight. The fans in Yankee Stadium forgave Baer’s manslaughter charges but – with growing animosity toward the Germans – threw rubbish at Schmeling when he entered the ring. Baer, in turn, would later be beaten by the Irish-American “Cinderella Man” James Braddock, and Schmeling would lose to Joe Louis in the heavyweight championships, prompting Hitler to drop him from an Aryan hero to an outcast for his defeat at the hands of a colored man. Like Jesse Owens’ future victory, these episodes force many of Hitler’s followers to rethink the doctrine of racial superiority, and the gladiatorial bouts become symbolic of the real battles they foreshadow.

After two exhausting days of sight-seeing, they check out of their Brooklyn hotel and cram Hamp’s luggage into the old family Plymouth; they watch the skyline disappear in their mirror, cross the Appalachians, and head to upstate New York to take in Palmyra and the other imperative Church history sites in the Finger Lakes region.

They retire that night to a quiet inn with hardly an electric light to be seen. With the noise of the big city still ringing in their ears, Hamp finally has time to show his mother and sisters his mission photos by the light of a gas lamp. They pass around the pictures late into the evening, and Hamp tries to convey just how special the people in his photographs have become to him; the detail with which he recalls the individual stories, however, eventually lulls everyone else at the table to sleep.

As he makes his way to the Sacred Grove the following day, he is humbled to realize that he has the privilege of standing in person where the most significant events of the Restoration transpired. Having spent almost three years trying to convince people half a world away of what had taken place here, he realizes that most of those to whom he had testified over the previous years would never be able to see these sights for themselves.

Putting the introspection and reflection behind him, he helps pack up the car, and they hit the road again in high spirits. They drive past Niagara and Detroit, and their excitement builds as they continue on to Chicago. Arriving in one of the massive World Fair parking lots, Hamp cannot believe the sea of cars that has swamped the Windy City. Before making their way to the entry gate, he reviews Gordon and Homer’s notes and prioritizes his list of must-see pavilions and shows.

As he jots down his itinerary, a group of African-American men moves past the Plymouth, sweeping up litter around the vehicles. Hamp is a bit startled, having seen hardly a single colored man during his entire ministry in Germany. The World Fair welcomes visitors from all backgrounds; outside the fairgrounds, though, racial tensions in the Midwest run as high as they do in New York. The Harlem Globetrotters, for example – who are actually from Chicago and haven’t yet played a single game in Harlem – are a serious, competitive, professional basketball team. They know they can beat any white team around but cannot manage to get any reputable team to play against them at this point in their evolution; they have begun to add their flair for entertainment in an attempt to show off their skills and get noticed.

Across the lake in Michigan, Henry Ford – whose anti-Semitic views are becoming increasingly hostile – tries to keep assembly lines running while multi-racial line workers mutiny. Just down the street from his factory, anger is brewing inside an eight-year-old boy named Malcolm Little, who lives in constant fear that the Klan might come back to burn his house down again after his father’s suspicious death under a streetcar. He will one day replace his “slave surname” with an “X” to denote the unknown African tribe from which he descended.

Facing similar challenges in the Appalachian Mountains that Hamp has just crossed, a skilled African-American carpenter named Vivien Thomas has just been laid off – his medical school savings having been wiped out by the stock market crash. Having taken up a position in a laboratory – while being paid as a janitor – he tinkers with the equipment after hours. Unable to eat at the same tables or even walk through the same doors as his mentors, his behind-the-scenes skills eventually revolutionize the field of pediatric cardiology. With the touch of a master’s hand – while serving drinks to his own students – this grandson of a slave ends up guiding heart surgeries that will save the lives of thousands of “blue babies,” while all the credit goes to his white colleagues.

While the United States comes to grips with its own past, the new breed of racism adopted by the Nazis gives a chilling image of where the discrimination might lead. U.S. politicians walk a fine line in promoting both free speech and protection of the oppressed. Racist views that are freely expressed and published in America are being exported overseas; when applied in systems that lack the same constitutional protections, the bigotry becomes tyrannical in nature. In its open forums, the United States is even unwittingly training its own enemies. Hitler’s advisor, Ernst “Putzi” Hanfstaengl and the future Japanese Naval Commander-in-Chief Isoroku Yamamoto, for example, have both been armed with a Harvard education that will give them strategic insights for the upcoming conflict.

With the eyes of the world now on Chicago, though, the event organizers have a singular chance to dismiss any questions about American ideals and innovation. The World Fair – officially dubbed the “Century of Progress International Exposition” is grand enough in scale to put the troubling social and economic issues aside for the moment. As Hamp and his family approach the fairgrounds, all seems to be well with the world.

Hamp is particularly thrilled to climb aboard one of the massive rocket cars of the sprawling sky ride, which transports his entourage from the parking lot across the main lagoon to the exhibits. The view from hundreds of feet in the air is inspiring, but not quite enough for Hamp. Upon landing, they make a mutual decision to part ways to make the best use of their time, and Hamp takes the opportunitiy to climb straight up to the observation deck at the top of the sky ride’s tower – higher than any building in Chicago. The view is certainly spectacular, but even from this vantage point it merely whets his appetite. With a clear view of the Chicago Airpark – just recently crowned the world’s busiest – Hamp traces myriad flight paths across the sky; the planes flying overhead seem to defy gravity, and he vows to join the ranks of their pilots one day.

Coming back down to earth, Hamp makes his way to each of the pavilions on his list. He is fascinated by the sights and the technology on display; topping his list is the air show that is being held in conjunction with the fair – Hamp arrives extra early to have a spot at the front of the crowd with an unobstructed view of center stage over Lake Michigan.

Trouble is brewing behind the scenes, however. The Graf Zeppelin, having arrived fresh from a flyover at the Nuremberg Rally by way of Brazil, approaches the grounds in one of the highlights of the fair. The airship is certainly quite a sight to behold, but the spectators are uneasy about the floating specter. Its massive tail fin has an enormous, red swastika painted on one side. Under specific instructions from Hitler himself to circle each city clockwise – rubbing the swastika in the residents’ faces – Captain Eckener takes a bold risk and deliberately circles the World Fair grounds counter-clockwise, hiding the swastika from the onlookers. It is an act of treachery for which he will be summarily disciplined on his return.

After an overwhelming three-day stay in Chicago, Hamp finds himself anxious to get back on the road. The old Plymouth requires some mechanical intervention to get rolling, however, and a nearby service station lends Hamp some tools to give it a try. He is not well versed in engine repair but eventually coaxes the car into compliance, and they continue their cross-country tour. Hamp’s fixes prove to be temporary, though, and more serious car trouble awaits them once they leave the outskirts of Chicago. They sputter from one country mechanic to the next for repairs; at each stop, they spend hours at a time as a captive audience with which the townsfolk try to debate the repeal of Prohibition and other hot topics of the day. After two grueling days on the road, they reach the Upper Mississippi River and follow it south to Nauvoo.

With very little signage and few recognizable landmarks to be found, Hamp is grateful for Gordon and Homer’s detailed notes to guide their itinerary. When they finally reach Nauvoo, Mimi insists that they begin their tour of Church historical sites with a visit to the grave of her grandfather, Jonathan Hampton. After pausing for a prayer in the overgrown but peaceful cemetery, Mimi effortlessly recites detailed events from her father’s autobiography, including how he was chased from home after home as a young boy, was left a fatherless child when Jonathan died from exposure after guarding the Prophet Joseph Smith, and how he mourned with his cousins when their own father died in the Mexican desert as part of the Mormon Battalion. Hamp is struck by events that used to seem so distant, but hit him personally in this setting.

As they tour the remains of Nauvoo, Hamp is a bit disappointed to see the lack of restoration efforts at the crumbling historical sites – accelerated by the last few years of a depressed economy. But at the same time he is glad to have stood on the same ground as his ancestors – in places that have now grown that much more dear to his heart as a result of his newly completed ministry.

A somber stop at the Carthage jail is followed by a bumpy ride to Independence, Missouri – a place of historical and doctrinal significance but without much to actually see on the ground. From there, they set out toward the west, tracing the pioneer trail. Understandably nervous about the open stretch of road ahead given their car troubles, they celebrate the passing of each mile marker. Deep in the heart of Missouri, they pass by little houses on the prairie that seem to be frozen in time. Among them is the Wilder home, where Laura Ingalls is frantically scribbling out handwritten manuscripts about her childhood in an attempt to raise funds that might help her struggling Rocky Ridge Farm survive the depression.

To help pass the time as they make their way across America’s heartland, Margaret teaches Hamp some of the new Depression-era folk songs that had spread around the country in his absence; Hamp, in turn, tries in vain to teach his family some traditional German tunes. Wishing he had been able to hold onto his accordion, his thoughts take him back to the Silesian countryside. During the occasional lull in the singing and conversation, they turn up the car radio to hear the latest news.

If they were to tune in to the right stations, they would hear a rookie announcer named Paul Harvey reading the headlines and summing up cattle prices, while another novice, Ronald Reagan, covers the sports results. Big Ten football dominates the Midwest sports headlines, and Reagan reports on the success of a fellow future president, fresh Eagle Scout and Grand Rapids native Gerald Ford, who is on his way to leading the University of Michigan football team to its second consecutive national championship. It is quite a year for football, with the first-ever NFL championship scheduled for the following autumn. The rivalry between Chicago and New York would be further fueled in the playoff game as Mitt Romney’s Bears topple the Giants in a last-minute comeback. Hamp is relieved to hear the radio programs focusing on football and weather forecasts rather than the politics and crime reports they had grown accustomed to on the first leg of their road trip.

After six more service stops for repairs to the Plymouth, they finally crest the Rockies and enter Utah. This last leg of the campaign sparks mixed emotions in Hamp – feelings that would be echoed by Gordon, Homer, Rulon, and countless others who had returned home by the same route. As the returning missionaries pass Parley’s Park City and entered Parley’s Canyon – both of which are named after a missionary who never returned home himself – they feel relief, anxiety, and a measure of homesickness for their adopted home abroad.

“Great Salt Lake City 20 miles” reads the road sign near the summit.

“Ain’t that the truth?” Hamp says, turning to Margaret.

“Sounds like you’ll need some English lessons to undo the damage done by your Deutsch,” Margaret replies, happy to correct her older brother, for once.

“Well pardon me,” Hamp says with a laugh, “let me rephrase it in Amerrrican: Gee, it’s grrreat to be back in Grrreat Salt Lake!”

“If you say so,” answers Margaret, who is herself not altogether excited to be back in Great Salt Lake City. The extra adjective in the city’s name would be dropped in the late thirties – perhaps for seeming a bit too presumptuous. Margaret admits that the Salt Lake is unmistakably great, as in large, but Salt Lake City itself? That is certainly up to interpretation, and, in fact, Margaret is finding the place to be increasingly stifling. She has always sets her sights higher than her immediate surroundings. With high school out of the way, she is now hoping that her enrolment at the University of Utah will add a measure of excitement and satisfaction to her life; unknowingly on her way to becoming the U’s first homecoming queen, she will ultimately find fulfillment in Utah; in the meantime, though, she envies the cosmopolitan sights Hamp had seen on her dime, and he picks up on her undertone.

“You’ll get your chance to see the world someday, too,” Hamp says, “I promise you that!”

As the Promised Valley comes into view and spreads out before them, Hamp breathes a sigh of relief while the inherent dichotomy sinks in. True, he had seen the world and all it had to offer; he had traversed the grand capitals of Europe and had met people from every walk of life, every rung of society, and every corner of the globe. It was an exciting and fascinating place, and to leave it all behind is bittersweet; but this is home, after all, and the city itself feels like an old friend welcoming him back.

They drive through the familiar avenues of his childhood but do not go straight home. Hamp first needs to make one stop to return and report on his mission; when Chick had punched his ticket to New York City almost three years before, never could Hamp have imagined that he would report back to his father in a cemetery. During the early days of his mission, in fact, Hamp had secretly been hoping to usher his father through the symbolic veil in the temple upon his triumphant return. He had imagined celebrating the reunion in the temple’s celestial room, knowing his father’s conversion had been brought about by his testimonial mission letters; instead, he now finds himself stranded on the very real end of a potentially endless chasm, filled with regret for what he might have said in the living years. He stands before the tombstone with silent tears, wishing so very much that his father’s proud arms could have welcomed him home.

His thoughts are turning toward his own empty canvas spread out before him. His life’s blueprint – that in its previous draft had included Dot at the very center – is now in shambles. How can he ever choose his destined path without his father’s guidance? How can he even think of finding a soul mate to replace Dot? He hangs his head and utters an encumbered prayer, then manages to clear his thoughts by recommitting himself to his heritage – come what may. He returns to the limping Plymouth; from the passenger seat he scribbles a few final lines in his travel journal that encapsulate his mixed emotions.

“I wonder what the future holds for me now?” he writes. After bereaving the loss of both Dot and Chick’s presence from his life, he suppresses the thoughts and lets them go, adding, “You worry about it – I haven’t the time.” Then, spotting the old house off of C Street, he pens a final line:

“Home at last – what a feeling!”

~~~~~~~~

Chapters:

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