Doves & Serpents is initiating a new feature we call “Our Favorite Mormons.” Consider it a biographical and uncorrelated version of Mormon.org, where we will tell the stories of Latter-day Saints, past and present, who have inspired us toward greater compassion, wonder or laughter.
One of my favorite Mormons was Ithamar Sprague, a late 19th Century Latter-day Saint from southern Utah, a pioneer prankster who left big shoes for those of us who follow in his footsteps … literally. Also known as Mormonism’s Other Bigfoot.
Bored by his life herding cattle near the Virgin River, Ithamar one day came across some smeared cow tracks in the mud resembling large footprints, inspiring him to make a very large pair of shoes and walk around town one night leaving enormous footprints in the dirt. The next day the town residents were all abuzz about the prints. Some wondered whether a monster, like Grendal, had been stalking them, awaiting the chance to tear them limb from limb and drink their sarsaparillas. Local Indian legends about a giant who had once prowled the countryside, laying waste to everything in his path, bolstered this view and panicked the locals. Others, more theologically-minded, suggested they were left by one of the 3 Nephites watching over them, or by Gadianton Robbers performing their secret combinations. How large feet, with shoes on, figured into identification of the footprints with these Book of Mormon characters was never elaborated upon. Sprague continued this prank for quite some time, all the while escaping detection in spite of the best efforts of his concerned neighbors.
How Sprague’s prank was finally revealed is disputed in the variant tellings of this legend. My favorite version says that one night as the townspeople gathered to discuss the mysterious footprints, a girl noticed Sprague’s hardly contained mirth and she asked him if he was behind it all. He then asked her what she would do if he admitted that he was the perpetrator. She whispered that if he confessed, then she would finally consent to marry him. In front of the crowd Sprague sprang up and admitted his guilt, much to the relief, then resentment, then (much later) affectionate laughter, of the crowd. They were then married and lived happily ever after.
While it’s understandable that Sprague’s activities never gave rise to an actual calling in the LDS Church, I suggest that the Gift of Sprague be included as a canonized gift of the Holy Spirit. Put another way, on whom does the Mantle of the Prankster now rest? It now lies on the shoulders of us all.
For further reading about Ithamar Sprague, see: Lore of Faith and Folly, edited by Cheney, Fife and Brooks; Saints of Sage and Saddle: Folklore Among the Mormons, edited by Fife; and the Utah State History website.
So awesome, Ed. And this sounds like a great new series.
Most of the elaborate pranks I have been involved with (either as perp or vic) happened on scout campouts or on the mish. Some pretty funny stuff happens at the MTC, too.
Amen Bro. I figure the pranking impulse in Mormon youth is just the sublimated sex drive trying to find an outlet, and, there’s generally no confession required afterwards, except in Ithamar’s case, that is.
Could be. I wonder if the Freudian explanation applies to that time I and my buddies hijacked those 4 dozen sweet rolls that were going to YW camp.
Sure it applies, especially if you use the term “buns” instead.
That MUST be the explanation!
It’s important that we don’t lose sight of how wrong it is to convince an entire town that a monster is going to eat them.
DKL, you are correct about that statement, and far be it from me to celebrate any such thing. In this respect, I think it’s clear Ithamar was merely negligent, since I doubt he had ever read Beowulf, and, big feet don’t necessarily mean big appetite for humans, so it’s doubtful that was Ithamar’s intent.
I suggest that the most we could expect Ithamar to have understood folklore-wise about his actions is the commonplace statement about what big feet suggest about a person’s other attributes. Therefore, it’s probably safe to assume Ithamar wanted to induce a certain amount of envy among the townsmen, but no more than that. Given the slender reed of evidence we have in this case, I think that’s all we can assume.
Ed, your response provides a vivid insight into what sort of defense might have been offered on behalf of the criminals arrested at the end of each episode of Scooby-Doo.
DKL, certainly that’s true, but there is one striking difference that some clever lawyer might use to distinguish these cases. Unlike Mystery, Inc.’s typical nemeses, Ithamar had no apparent pecuniary interest in the outcome of this case, at least according to the scanty historical record. It’s not like he was trying to scare people out of town so he could reap the riches of a lost Nephite mine he had located in a dream.
A related question: was Mystery, Inc. (i) actually an incorporated entity and (ii) a 501(c)(3) non-profit? I likely missed the episode where this was covered, but I’ve always wondered about that.
Actually, Ed, it’s a 527 funded by Casey Kasem, the original voice of Shaggy. They’ve taken down more politicos than the Swift Boat Veterans for Truth.
nice to see this story up and discussed, I’ve heard it many times growing up and I am happy (amused??) to say that the fellow in this story is an ancestor of mine. as for the assumption that he had never heard of Beowulf and Grendel I am obligated to contest that notion because his family was partly Swedish, His son, Pa Sprague to my Granddad, told the kids stories of that particular nature which were much later recounted to me. for a bit of background and story variations try this page. Thnx
http://www.orsonprattbrown.com/CJB/04Steadwell/ithamer-sprague.html
Moose, thanks for the comments! I’ll accept your arguments in favor of our favorite Swedish jokester.