Forgotten Stories 

No newspaper can cover all the news all the time. Here at City Weekly, we encounter worthy stories that for some reason or other don’t make it into the final edition. We thought our 10-year retrospective might be the right occasion to make public stories that may or may not prove to be of historical significance. As they say on TV, only time will tell. What follows is just a selection, in no particular chronological order, of stories that never saw the light of day:

OLYMPIC CHIEF PONDERS MEDIA POSITION. Everyone knows that Willard “Mitt” Romney turned down the offer to become Prophet, Seer and Revelator of the church Formerly Known as Mormon. City Weekly was given access to an audition tape of the telegenic Romney doing an energetic weather forecast. Sources close to Mr. Romney said he came very close to replacing Dan Pope on the Weather Porch.

TOUCHED BY ELDER JONES. In June 1997, an anonymous source provided us with the script of a new pilot produced by the folks who make Touched By an Angel. The new series, which was killed by skittish network executives, was a heartwarming and zany look at the life of an itinerant faith healer who goes up and down the land sprinkling canola oil on unsuspecting strangers and then laying his hands upon them to cure them of unsuspected and often nonexistent ailments. In the pilot episode, Sen. Orrin Hatch as a small cameo as a kindly pharmacist who occasionally sings at weddings.

TRIB EDITOR THROWS TANTRUM, HURLS ACCUSATIONS. In recent weeks, James E. “Bull” Shelledy has called Deseret News publisher and octogenarian Glenn Snarr a liar and implied that the elderly man is suffering from senile dementia. After much debate and soul-searching, City Weekly editors just last week decided to spike a story in which the hard-charging editor was reported to have accused the distinguished publisher of secretly wearing micro-fiber Spandex low-rise bikini panties.

FAILED POLYGAMIST CLAIMS TAPESTRY GALS HAVE PUT A HORRIBLE HEX ON HIM. Shortly after he appeared on Rod Decker’s Take Two in February 1995, City Weekly did an in-depth profile on Artie Whitehead, a would-be polygamist from Paragonah. According to Mr. Whitehead, a part-time machinist, some sort of voodoo, or perhaps a powerful magic potion slipped into his cocoa, was preventing him from even getting to first base with potential wives.

FORMER JAZZ PHENOM SEEKS FAME AND FORTUNE IN ENTERTAINMENT FIELD. After one spectacular season (1992-93) in which the Jazz almost defeated the Cleveland Cavaliers in the NBA Finals, sharp-shooting Buck Turgeson, the former all-American from Ball State, gave it all up to pursue a career as a street mime in California. City Weekly discovered Mr. Turgeson pretending to pull a rope in an imaginary tug-of-war near Cannery Row in Monterey. Dressed in a black leotard and sweating profusely, Mr. Turgeson said he still retained fond memories of his year in Salt Lake, but warned everyone not to drink fluoridated water.

BUSBOY BLOWS WHISTLE ON OLYMPIC CORRUPTION. Two years before Chris Vanocur and Channel Four exposed the SLOC Olympic scandal, City Weekly garnered an exclusive interview with Bud Weed, a busboy at Lamb’s Restaurant. According to Mr.Weed, Olympic officials not only treated Congo bigwig Jean-Claude Ganga to the luncheon special, but also promised him a Mr. Mac two-pant wool blend suit and a private audience with singing sensations the Dixie Chicks.

GOV. LEAVITT BID TO STOP HAIRPIECE COMMERCIAL FAILS. Three years ago, Mike Leavitt worked feverishly behind the scenes to suppress a commercial showing footage of him frolicking in the swimming pool at the El Rey Motor Inn in Cedar City, Utah. Unbeknownst to Mr. Leavitt, who is in real life is bald as a billiard ball, photographers in the employ of the Hair Club for Men secretly took a video of him playing Marco Polo in the motel swimming pool. Despite repeated dunkings, his Poseidon hairpiece stayed in place, and looked so natural that tourists from Indiana sharing the pool didn’t have an inkling that the state’s chief executive was wearing a hairpiece. A circuit court of appeals turned down the governor’s attempt to issue a stay against the Hair Club for Men. To this day, the commercial, showing a youthful-looking Mr. Leavitt, can be seen late at night during commercial breaks on Nick at Night.

One story—probably a three-part series—that we are still working on involves a mysterious link between Coach Rick Majerus, cold fusion and the tornado of ’99.