The Lost Mormons

There was an interesting story in today’s Salt Lake Tribune. The Trib has recently been running a lot of stories about Mormons, and interestingly enough, their declining numbers in Utah, but this story was particularly interesting because the Church was faced to own up to the fact they are just not WILLING to let anyone go, ever. Or at least until you turn 110.

Basically, the story talks about the church “member locators” who attempt to track down the 180,000 (I suspect this number is fudged, but we won’t go there tonight) Mormons for whom they do not have addresses or phone numbers. Never mind the fact that it’s pretty obvious these Mormons do not wish to be contacted, because Mormon churches just aren’t that hard to find. If they wanted to come back to church, they would be there. It ain’t rocket science. But the Mormon Church is not going to let them be. In fact, they keep looking and WILL keep looking for these Mormons until they reach the age of 110, hell freezes over and Utah elects a Democratic representative. (That part about the age of 110 is true. Go read the article.)

I, personally, would like to locate these Mormons and find out how they managed to convince family members NOT to turn them in. My mother sends my records everywhere I go. My church records were and are more faithful than any boyfriend I ever had in my younger years. Those (boyfriends) came and went, but by God, the Mormons always knew where to find me. The CIA has nothing on the Church and my mother.

It leaves me wondering if there is some sort of Witness Protection Program for former Mormons. Are these former Mormons being spirited away from family and friends so they can live out the rest of their lives in relative peace, away from visiting teachers, member locaters and green jello with carrots in it? Is there an Underground Railroad for former Mormons, who are whisked away to states not located in the Mormon corridor, only to find themselves in strange lands where people don’t understand funeral potatoes, the wardhouse, and girls so ugly they are called “sweet spirits?”

I wonder these things, late at night, when I should be sleeping.

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About Natalie R. Collins

Natalie has more than 30 years writing, editing, proofreading and design experience. She has written 20 books (and counting), has worked for the Sundance Film Festival, and as an investigative journalist, editor, and proofreader. She embraces her gypsy-heart and is following her new free-thinking journey through life. Follow her as she starts over and learns a bunch of life's lessons--some the hard way.
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