Not since the “Donny & Marie” show will Mormon values be on such public display. For a religion so devoted to missionary work, the Olympics would seem a dream come true: the world is coming to Zion. In a July speech to church members, Mormon President Gordon B. Hinckley spoke of the Winter Games in theological terms–the realization of Brigham Young’s prophecy that “kings and emperors and the noble and wise of the earth” would one day visit his city. Publicly, however, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints wants it known that it won’t be proselytizing. Period. “We want to be good hosts, first and foremost. We want to be responsible community citizens,” says church spokesman Michael R. Otterson. Salt Lake Organizing Committee president and CEO Mitt Romney, himself a Mormon, thinks well-heeled Olympic visitors won’t make easy converts, anyway. “That’s not exactly the target audience,” he says.
Despite the Mormons’ protestations, their presence in Salt Lake City will be hard to ignore–from the voices of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir wafting out of Rice-Eccles Olympic Stadium during the opening ceremonies to the spires of Salt Lake Temple serving as a backdrop for the medal presentations. The church is increasing its ranks of young women missionaries from 180 to 200 to take Olympic visitors on guided tours, in 40 languages, of Temple Square, already Utah’s most popular tourist destination. And after a day of downhill on the Olympic slopes, what better nightcap than a sound-and-light extravaganza called “Light of the World,” with a Mormon cast of 1,500? The show will feature “an Olympic-themed story embedded with our own message about Christ,” says the church’s Otterson.
The proper role for the Mormon Church in a secular sporting event has been debated since before Salt Lake City won its bid to host the Winter Games. “We knew we’d be criticized, whether we did too much or too little,” Otterson says. It didn’t help matters when the church in February sent out thousands of press kits suggesting 100 “church-themed” story ideas for Olympics reporters; the press wound up crying “Mo-lympics.” Otterson says the only intention was to get reporters to look beyond the stereotype of Mormons as oddballs who party too little and marry too much. “That was really to broaden their minds from thinking that polygamy was the ‘must-do’ story in Utah,” he says.
Reconciling conservative Mormon values with the Olympics’ festive atmosphere has been no easy task. Indeed, Salt Lake City’s restrictive laws on socializing are standing firm for the Olympics. You can have a drink at most upscale restaurants. But only one at a time. And it can’t be a double; laws limit the “primary alcohol” in cocktails to one ounce. If you just want a brew, you can go to one of several “beer-only” establishments. But you’d better like your suds on the watery side, because the alcohol content is limited to 3.2 percent. Anything stronger than that must be purchased at a state-owned liquor store, and they’re closed by 10 p.m. and all day Sunday. For two-fisted drinking, you have to buy a membership in one of the private clubs–providing you can get an existing member to “sponsor” you. In practical terms, this means someone already sitting at the bar has to say he wants you there before you can pay your $5 “membership fee” and sidle up.
All these rules notwithstanding, the organizers–even the Mormon ones–insist you’ll be able to find a drink. Alcohol will be readily available in and around the Games. As Utah Gov. Michael Leavitt, a Mormon, points out, “There will be twice the number of places to buy a drink at the 2002 Olympic Winter Games than there were at Lillehammer and Nagano combined.” Alcohol will be sold at all the sports venues, as well as in the downtown area designated as Olympic Square. (The Medals Plaza, located on church land, will remain dry.) Booze will flow freely at hospitality suites hosted by various nations and Olympic sponsors (under the so-called wedding-party exception to the liquor laws, anyone can serve alcohol at a private party, so long as it’s free). Olympic sponsor Anheuser-Busch has leased an outdoor plaza from the city where it plans to provide entertainment and, of course, sell lots of Bud. And the company’s trademark Clydesdales won’t even have to parade with their corporate logos covered in order to comply with the state’s alcohol laws, as they’ve had to do at earlier Salt Lake events. In July, the 10th Circuit Court of Appeals struck down a Utah provision that had banned most alcohol advertisements. Even Salt Lake’s new Grand America Hotel, owned by Earl Holding, a prominent Mormon businessman and former member of the Salt Lake Organizing Committee, has mini-bars in the rooms.
Salt Lake Mayor Rocky Anderson, looking to shake his hometown’s provincial image, has led the effort to make the rules “more hospitable.” Anderson, a divorce and a Democrat, has been something of a lone voice in the wilderness. He won a battle against the city council to allow beer drinking in the park surrounding city hall, and he’s now hoping to loosen a law that prohibits dancing till dawn. Anderson’s former colleagues at the ACLU are also trying to ensure that protesters at the Olympics will have a place to be heard, and are battling the church over its strict policies limiting demonstrations on a section of Main Street that it annexed two years ago. “I think there are some definite misperceptions about our city. We’re a diverse, cosmopolitan area. We’re not all white, and we’re only about 50 percent Mormon,” he says. Heck, Utahns even have a sense of humor. Wasatch Brewery has just introduced a new product in time for the Games: Polygamy Porter. It’s being promoted with the slogans “Why have just one?” and “Take one home for the wives.” Fair warning to revelers: Polygamy Porter meets Utah’s watery 3.2 percent rule.
