Southern Utah News Articles
Top Stories for March 3, 2010
Ol' Crankcase pays tribute to friend
Doc Schmutz, you don’t do root canals…you are a root canal!
Doc Bowman, you give malpractice a bad name!
Representative Mike Noel is an honest politician. When he’s bought, he stays bought!
Every time I see Kortney Stirland, I get the feeling that some organ grinder has lost his monkey.
Jim Ott doesn’t have to buy B.S. to fertilize his fields. All he has to do is to shovel out his front room.
Lazy? Lyle Heyborne missed the eclipse the other day. His easy chair was facing the wrong direction.
Every time I see Cody Brunner he has that blank stare of a deer that’s caught in the headlights. Anybody home, Cody?
To say that you are dysfunctional, Lynn Button, is to give you a compliment that you in no way deserve.
They say that Laurali Noteman and Sam Jackson are pooling their limited IQ’s to put together a Jacob Hamblin’s Day Poetry Program. That’s like competing in the World Series of Poker with a pair of deuces.
Sarge Baker isn’t short. He’s merely fun size.
Jeremy Brunner, don’t act stupid. We have Rory for that.
When Coach Curt Hawkins hits one right, it’s a slice. When he hits it left, it’s a hook. When he hits it down the middle, it’s an absolute miracle.
Kyle Brunner isn’t the answer to a girl’s prayer. Kyle Brunner isn’t the answer to anything!
On to more important things:
The name Wendell Hoyt doesn’t sound like the name of a hero, does it. And…I suppose that on the Walk of Fame, his name will never appear.
Yet…I consider Wendell Hoyt a hero. We laid Wendell to rest just a short time back in the quiet graveyard of Fredonia under the roar of a 21-gun salute and the haunting melody of taps. Wendell Hoyt was a good man!
Wendell served honorably during World War II. I knew him after his service days when I was a young man in old St. George…when the spreading metropolis was so small you could shoot your .22 five blocks south of the Tabernacle.
Wendell was Chief of Police back then. He devoted his time to public service. For instance, the Babe, a young Hurricane High School Tigerette in 1960, was one of many that Wendell transported at his own expense to Salt Lake City for drill team competition. If anything good was to be accomplished, Wendell was the first to raise his hand.
You wouldn’t remember me, Wendell…but I remember you.
Good-bye, Wendell Hoyt.