Originally published in Utah Business.
I’ll never forget the first time I came face to face with squalor. My car broke down as I was driving home from Capitol Reef National Park. I walked a half-mile or so in the dark to a home just off the highway. A man opened the door, hesitated, and then let me in to use his phone.
Inside the home I saw filth, dirty dishes and food scraps. I saw several children sleeping on the floor, two of whom seemed too old to be wearing diapers. Over in the corner I saw the mother staring at a TV set, barely noticing I was there. I made my phone call and left, never forgetting the sadness I felt. The home bore no resemblance to the order and comfort of my wholesome, middle-class upbringing.