Another time I pulled up to the church (pictured above), which appeared to be completely empty, and peeked in the door. I saw a “no tape or video recording sign,” and within 30 seconds a man pulled up behind me and asked what I needed. I asked (very politely) if I could attend church the following day, and he wouldn’t really answer, just asked me to leave.

Every other time I’ve gotten some odd looks, but am generally left alone (or given a few minutes of polite conversation). There are a couple of cemeteries that I have spent some time persuing for (distant) relatives, and no one seems to care at all that I’m there [the grave of Rulon Jeffs is pretty striking. No pomp and circumstance there, boy].

Fascinating culture, appreciate the post.

“Dor Spy Chil.”

Clearly they were telling you to chill out, outsider spy, or you would be shown the door.

Do the FLDS (and/or The Work) have internet access? Are some of them reading this post, right now?

“Hey, look at that picture he took of Bro. Jessop’s house.”
“Not bad for an outsider. Hey, pass me a few more spicy chili Doritos, will you?”

This was the first time I’ve ever felt like a foreigner in my own country. That said, it wasn’t an unpleasant experience. The folks I talked to were polite and helpful. A woman in the Mercantile parking lot said “we’re not scary like the media wants you to believe.” For what it’s worth, I never felt like I was being followed.

I spent some time in the Mercantile and the bulk food store down the street. The only time I felt really on edge was in the (incredibly well stocked) fabric store on the side of the Mercantile. There were probably 20 to 25 women gathered in this very long narrow room, and they stared me down like I had breached some inner sanctum. (Of course I then had to spend as much time there as possible.)

Random observations:
The cemetery was fascinating. So few last names!
Except for a few small bands of children, I saw almost no one on the streets.
I saw one man in the bulk food store and one man in the general store. Everyone else in the stores were women or children.

Note to travelers: Looking for dinner on a Saturday evening, I was told the Mark Twain restaurant used to serve dinner but was now out of business. There were a few other places that closed after lunch, and the pizza place was strictly take and bake.

Photos from the trip here:

Mike and I were going hiking at Zion’s Canyon later that day, but we deliberately wore long pants and shirts (rather than the shorts and tanktops that we later changed into for hiking). I also came armed with a copy of my book and a kind of half-baked plan to hold it up and say, “look, I’m just a historian who writes about Mormon churches and I’m a pretty sympathetic observer!”

Let me digress with a similarly “harrowing” experience. On my dad’s side, my ancestral homeland is New Jersey for some eight generations. I had a great-g-g grandfather who built twenty homes in downtown Trenton in the 1860s or so that still survive. Trenton is not the nicest city anymore. One time, ten years ago, my mom and I went on a family history trip to Trenton. We drove around the slums and took pictures of all the houses my ancestors had built. When we went to the house where they had lived — which we had every reason to believe had become a crack house — and we started taking pictures. A couple of enormous guys immediately came out of the yard and said “You can’t take pictures here!” My mother stood her ground, saying, “But we’re doing family history and his great-g-g grandfather build this house in 1856!” As if they cared. The guys said, “This house is the same as all of the other houses, you can’t take pictures here.” We didn’t argue much more, since we already had the pictures. What we won’t do in the cause of genealogy!

Anyway, on our trip to Colorado City, it didn’t come to that. I don’t know if they W&W brigade was off duty, if they’ve been disbanded, or if we didn’t stick around long enough to attract their attention. However, I really had the impression in the grocery store that we went pretty quickly from being regarded as potentially hostile strangers, to being viewed with a little less caution. We just tried to be pleasent and smiled and made small talk. By the end, the cashier lady seemed to warm to us and called after us to tell us to have a nice day.