The Brigham Stoop

When I look back on my life and think about people who made an impact on me, who helped mold me and helped me become who I am today, one person who comes immediately to mind is a man named Neil Cardon.  Neil was the manager at the Cougareat food court at BYU, and he was my boss for my last three years of school, from the summer after my freshman year up until a month before Alayna was born.  I actually knew Neil before I worked at the Cougareat, or at least knew of him.  My older siblings Rose, Cathy, and Hank (who are 11, 10, and 8 years older than me, respectively) worked for Neil at the campus bakery when they were students.  When my freshman year employment at the Morris Center (the old Deseret Towers cafeteria) was over, I wanted to go back and continue to work there, because it was familiar and I really liked familiar back then.  I told my sister Rose what I had in mind for myself and she told me Neil was the manager at the Cougareat and I should contact him for a job.  Neil knew my siblings well--he even made Cathy's wedding cake.  I found Neil's work email in the BYU online directory and introduced myself and inquired about a job possibility.  I came for an interview at his office and we got acquainted and he pretty much said if I was a Howell, I must be a good worker like my brother and sisters had been, and I got scheduled to work at Sugar 'n Spice, the ice cream and pastries shop in the food court.

After a few semesters working on the lines at Subway and Teriyaki Stix at the Cougareat, Neil promoted me to be an assistant secretary in the offices behind the lines.  With time I did less assisting and had undertaken enough of my own projects in the offices I became a secretary/student manager.  I loved working at the Cougareat.  The mangers and students I worked with were my second family.  

There's a point to all this back story, I promise.  One reason I'd been thinking about Neil today was because of something he taught us called the Brigham Stoop.  Basically, if you see a piece of trash on the ground in the food court, stop, stoop, and pick it up.  Keep the place nice, take pride in the upkeep of the Cougareat. In the mornings this summer I've been walking with some of my girlfriends in the neighborhood.  This morning, however, I was alone because the other girls had other things to attend to.  I decided to take a different route than customary, and because I didn't have girl-talk to distract me, I paid more attention to my surroundings.  A large part of our walking area is empty lots where new homes are being built.  And the amount of trash I found scattered here and there really bugged me.  I thought to myself, "These workers need to take pride in what they're doing and practice the Brigham Stoop and put their trash where it belongs." There were even beer cans at one site, and I'm pretty confident drinking on the job is frowned upon.  I confess, I started picking up empty plastic bottles that could be recycled and put them in the basket of my stroller.  (This also reminded me of a time when I was about 7 and I rode my red bicycle with a basket in front through a park near my neighborhood, and I loaded the wire basket with garbage I found along the riding path.  And I rode by some kids and they teased me for the load of garbage.  Just another anecdote.  I guess I knew about the Brigham Stoop before Neil told me that's what it was called.)

Neil taught me so much more than just the Brigham Stoop in the three years he was my supervisor at BYU.  I think I'm going to teach my kids the Brigham Stoop and make them put it to use around the house.

Unrelated tangent:  I discovered a friend in my ward knew Neil when she was a little girl.  I believe she said he had been her home teacher when she was growing up, and was very kind and did a lot of service for her family, because her parents weren't active in the Church at the time.  And I knew for certain he had a great impact on her life, just as he had for my siblings and myself in those days past.