We said our last goodbye to Ted Wilson on May 17. The sendoff for Salt Lake City’s 30th mayor (elected to three terms from 1976-1986) was perfect. We woke that day to a brilliant blue sky. Some 400 people celebrated Ted at Rice-Eccles Stadium Tower with a stunning view of Salt Lake City — the city he cherished every day of his 84.9 years on Earth.
Ted died peacefully at home on April 11. He had lived valiantly for four years with Parkinson’s disease and an incurable heart condition. Our family man, adventurer, leader, teacher and guru was worn out.
Shortly after his death, my favorite editors at The Salt Lake Tribune asked me to write something about my husband of 20 years. It helped that he was also my favorite politician and public servant. It made some sense, I guess. Ted fell in love with me as a devoted reader of a regular op-ed column I wrote for The Tribune from 2002 to 2007. In 2004, my editor asked me to write about our union.
So we have come full circle. Here I am, writing again about my greatest hero and truest love, through a lens of gratitude and grief.
There is a risk in writing this. I risk getting sappy, like a 12-year-old girl scribbling in a diary about her first crush. I risk being pilloried on the comment board and mocked on social media sites. I mean, who can afford to share real feelings in public and show vulnerability these days?
But then this thought hit me. Ted Wilson was all about taking risks. Whether behind a desk, at a podium or with his climbing partners on a treacherous mountain pitch, he knew most worthwhile efforts begin with risk.
Ted wasn’t foolish or impulsive. He calculated his risks, always running a mental cost/benefit analysis of where they might take him. He possessed a rare instinct for recognizing opportunities for himself and others.
(Photo courtesy of Holly Mullen) Ted Wilson and Holly Mullen photographed at their wedding on June 14, 2004, at the Alta Lodge.
Always, the possibility of failure loomed. Ted challenged incumbent Republican Sen. Orrin Hatch in 1982 and lost. He ran against incumbent Gov. Norm Bangerter in 1988 and lost. He always got back up.
Ted’s daughter, Jessica Wilson Begum, captured this best at his memorial service. “His most influential lesson was the right to fail,” she said. “The right to fail is the impetus of Ted Wilson’s philosophy of life.”
Salt Lake City elected Ted mayor in 1975. At 36, he was one of the youngest mayors in the U.S.
He was dashing and charming and visionary. Ted piloted the first major remake of the Salt Lake City Airport. The capital city had grand ambitions — including hosting a Winter Olympics one day (which it did, of course, in 2002). But its airport had chugged along with a small-town look and mentality. Five decades later, with a long line of mayors and excellent directors, our airport is a pretty big deal.
He led the first rehab of the city’s wastewater treatment plant. He worked with the Salt Lake City Council to protect the foothills from dangerous and ugly overdevelopment. In the late ‘70s, prescient that Salt Lake City would one day explode as a recreational mecca, he curbed heavy traffic through City Creek Canyon to allow for more runners, walkers and cyclists. He worked with Utah’s congressional delegation to designate the Mount Olympus and Lone Peak wilderness areas. Thousands of climbers enjoy the first recorded routes Ted and his friends put up across the Wasatch.
Ted took the kind of risks that in today’s bloody political arena seem quaint. He treated his political opponents with respect. He pitched himself and his skills to the electorate rather than gut-punching his adversaries with insults and personal attacks. His accommodation of far-ranging views was a trademark. Scores of people across the political spectrum have shared this with me in recent weeks. People liked him.
Ted lived an incredibly full life. Whether at work, play or in relationships, he jumped in with every effort.
I miss him. The community misses him. As I look out on Ted’s favorite view of Mount Olympus from our kitchen window, I am imagining a conversation we could have easily shared.
He might ask: “What is it you want? Does it help or hurt others? If it’s in the ‘plus’ column, try it. If you fail, get up and try again. Why not? There could be an amazing summit out there waiting for you.”
(Trent Nelson | The Salt Lake Tribune) Holly Mullen
Holly Mullen is a writer with 35 years as a newspaper journalist. She was The Salt Lake Tribune’s Innovation Lab editor until Dec. 31, 2023, when she left to provide full-time care for her late husband, Ted Wilson. She lives in Millcreek.
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