Not long ago, I spent an hour and a half with nearly 60 community members who had gathered for an update on oral histories being collected about Logan Canyon. I went to hear stories about the canyon, a place where I've spent my share of time—family outings, backpacking with scouts, fly fishing, in contemplation and solitude, and even an afternoon of my honeymoon.

This oral history project was launched a year ago jointly by Barbara Middleton, an instructor in USU's College of Natural Recourses, and Randy Williams, folklore curator for Special Collections and Archives in the Merrill Cazier Library on campus. Both women are quick to acknowledge help from community members, as well as funding from the Utah Humanities Council and the Utah State Historical Society.

So far Middleton and Williams have collected oral histories from 20 of the more than 100 people they hope to interview. Williams explained that the oral histories are captured in audio recordings, and then transcribed and cataloged. Recordings and transcriptions will eventually be available in the Northern Utah Speaks oral history collection in USU's Special Collections.

The evening wasn't only about sharing oral histories, but about explaining the techniques used to gather them. Part of the fun, said Middleton, is tapping students to help, to train them up in the methods, to get them involved in the fieldwork.

Middleton explained that people sometimes don't realize they have stories worth telling. When she held up a horseshoe and asked to what year it might belong, one woman suggested the 1940s and, when pressed about why, revealed that not only had her father run horses in the 40s, he had run them in Logan Canyon. The surprise and delight on Middleton's face gave away the thrill she felt at having just stumbled upon another oral history from the canyon. This is how it happens, she said. A lesson in embracing the unexpected. Serendipity.

Williams began by handing out paper and crayons. Draw a tree, we were told. Draw the first tree you had a connection to. In no time, paper was rustling and bodies were bent over the task. Even well into the evening, I could hear crayons tapping, being pulled across paper, dropped to the table for another. In the end, Middleton pointed out, there is a story in your tree. You have a story to tell even in just one tree. Everyone has stories.

And then there are the canyon stories: the story of the jaw–agape Midwesterner driving the canyon for the first time, stories about summers tending sheep herds, stories about family excursions with cat and dog in a seven–passenger Buick with jump seats, stories from snowplow drivers and cattlemen and hikers and biologists and sociologists and members of the Audubon Society and Forest Service employees. Stories upon stories are emerging.

If you or anyone you know has oral histories to share about Logan Canyon, or would like to contribute funding to the project, please contact Barbara Middleton at middleton.bam@gmail.com.

—John Engler '03MA