Activists Aim To Dry Out South Valley

by Jon Ure
Salt Lake Tribune, 11/30/98

DRAPER -- Upscale, quiet and family-oriented, Draper is filling up fast. But filling a glass with beer, wine or a cocktail in a public establishment has always been tough.

It will get tougher if community activists such as Scott Howell and Brian Anderson get their way: total prohibition.

Citing safety, morality and LDS strictures against alcohol, they lead the movement to ban booze in Draper. Now they have a victory under their belts, convinced it was their doing that led to the City Council to deny a liquor permit to a new golf course restaurant in the middle of the city's largest development.

Howell, an employee at LDS Church-owned Brigham Young University, and Anderson, an attorney, both are members of the church, which forbids members from drinking alcohol.

The pair are concentrating their campaign mostly south of 9000 South, where the Utah Department of Alcoholic Beverage Control has 29 permits issued. Howell (no relation to the state senator), Anderson and their followers plan to rid the south end of the valley of every one.

Are 29 establishments too many for these modern Carrie Nations to take on?

No, they say, considering the department has issued licenses for 532 concerns in the remainder of Salt Lake County.

After all, local governments can veto liquor permits, and Howell says non-drinking communities are eager and justified to follow up bigtime on the Draper victory.

``As a bedroom community, Draper should be totally dry,'' Howell says. ``Its citizens are interested in its not being a distribution outlet for alcohol. It's a pioneer community. We believe alcohol is harmful to the body and the mind and, as such, we are not interested in having it in our back yard.''

The time is ripe, Howell says, because more people are making Draper their home, and their possibly more liberal attitudes must be curbed before it becomes a force against his temperance campaign.

``They all brought the values and standards of their old community,'' Howell says. ``We were caused to look into our souls and say, `What do we want to be?'

``It's now an opportunity to sit down with the City Council . . . and worry about what the community wants to define itself as, as far as values and community standards are concerned.''

Howell's vision is fairly realistic, if the cheers by residents who jammed the City Council chambers for the golf course vote are any indication.

``Make Draper a dry city,'' urges Brian Larson. ``Revocations [of existing permits] is possible. . . . But a cowardly City Council will allow the developers to tell them what ought to be done.''

Larson pooh-poohs the notion stated by drinkers in Draper claim that he, Howell, and their supporters trample their personal freedoms with their tactics.

``We have the freedom to have a city that is alcohol-free or highly controlled,'' Larson responds.

Councilman Lyn Kimball cast the only vote against denying the golf course's application. He does not drink alcohol, but he sees a dangerous precedent, a sort of ``tyranny by the majority.''

``I am strong LDS. I served as a bishop,'' Kimball says. ``I know what our beliefs are and the consequences of irresponsible drinking. And I'm an advocate of majority rights.''

But . . .

``I'm convinced that what was done was discriminatory and while . . . Draper may have had a right to do what it did, I don't believe that the best interests of Draper City overall was done,'' Kimball says.

Discrimination? Kimball says the golf course operators can point to Guadalahonky's Mexican Restaurant at 136 E. 12300 South, which 11 years ago received the city's permission to serve beer, wine and liquor with meals.

Golf course managers are undecided whether to pursue a legal course claiming unfairness, says Crown Golf Properties attorney Richard Golden.

But Larson and Howell say the Mexican food establishment, just a few blocks from the city's ``gateway'' near Interstate 15, is one of their primary targets.

``We've got to make a stand,'' Howell says.

In response, Guadalahonky's owner, Alan Summerhays, invites the anti-alcohol forces to dine at his restaurant.

``Some people, after 11 years, still do not know that we serve alcohol,'' the former Draper planning commissioner likes to point out. About 2.5 percent of the restaurant's annual gross receipts come from alcohol sales, he adds. ``Seventy to 80 percent of our business is families. They bring their kids.

``People don't come here to drink, they come here to eat and have an occasional drink or marguerita, with or without alcohol.''

Families hold LDS missionary farewells there, Summerhays says, and many of his employees are members of the dominant faith who return, sometimes for a job, but at least for a meal.

Summerhays is proud that his restaurant is a large contributor to anti-drug programs in Draper, supporting 11 schools.

But Howell says trends in Utah and nationwide are toward less -- zero, eventually -- alcohol. As he and his neighbors collected 1,637 signatures for a petition against the golf course aplication, he says, word reached Sandy and Riverton residents who clamored to sign. Their signatures were not needed, but their attitude was heartening, Howell says.

Besides going after existing permits, Howell says he and other activists are drafting an ordinance that would amount to a pre-emptive strike against any proposal to serve booze ``so we don't have to go to battle every time.''

``Meanwhile, Draper is not the only community in Utah that is interested in having a dry community,'' says Howell.

To the west in Bluffdale, no liquor or beer is sold because there are no retail or state outlets.

Last year in Sandy, hundreds of anti-alcohol residents turned out to defeat a ``brew pub'' restaurant proposal. South Jordan residents have held a request to start a brew pub at bay for nearly a year now.

Riverton is home of the Lazy Dog Saloon. Mayor Sandra Lloyd says the tavern is a piece of history, but that does not make residents happy about it. Nor are they pleased that the Riverbend Golf Course sells beer. So activists keep a careful watch on council actions that might place more alcohol in their midst.

The same sort of activity has been happening all over Utah.

Northern Utah's Logan has reduced the number of permits it will issue, and some cities in Utah County allow no liquor sales. Tiny Boulder, in south-central Utah, has denied a hotel a permit to serve alcohol, keeping that town dry. And the St. George City Council has rejected a proposal to allow stores to sell king-size containers of beer, worrying the plan would promote drunkeness.

Maybe, as Draper resident Kelly Lance suggests, the strength of anti-alcohol residents is derived from local church leaders. LDS officials deny that any such campaign comes from the pulpit. Some imbibers, however, say this kind of fervor does not spontaneously arise.

And resident Raeanne Sheffield says with the Winter Olympics looming and the influx of new residents to the South Valley, prohibition leaves Draper looking silly.

Ray Andrus was a disinterested party waiting for another council agenda item the night the golf course hit the wall. He told the crowd he was compelled to address the issue.

``Sometimes it's the responsibility of government to protect the minority against the majority,'' Andrus said.

[Webmaster's note: we live where the number 16 is on the map below; that restaurant (La Caille) is actually located about a mile northeast, and many dollars skyward; we went just once. We get very thirsty here.]