Losing President Holland is a tough one. I’ve loved, admired and listened to him since I attended BYU and he was serving as the President. He is also one of the few that I have met in real life.
We are so accustomed to seeing apostles in suits and ties behind a pulpit, that when we see them in the wild—out of context—it can be rather startling.
Such was the case one summer as we vacationed at the beach. My family was staying with my siblings’ families in a condo a hundred yards inland. Late one afternoon we hauled our tired bodies, boogie boards, and beach chairs back to the condo, following a path that ran alongside a beach house. I noticed a man sitting on the porch who looked vaguely familiar. He wore khakis and a polo shirt and appeared to be engrossed in a book.
After we passed by the house, I mentioned, “Hey! Did anybody think that guy looked like Elder Holland?”
My sister-in-law fearlessly turned around and said, “I’ll go see.” And she did.
A couple of minutes later she came back. “Yep, it is Elder Holland. He was really nice.” I thought it was cool, because if anybody needs a vacation, it is an apostle.
Over the next couple of days we did our best to not ogle or disturb, even though we walked past where he was staying several times a day. We wanted him to enjoy himself. He spent a lot of time on the back patio, reading, watching the sunset, and talking with his wife.
That’s not to say we weren’t a little bit tacky. I did cave and say hello, preemptively apologizing for interrupting him. He graciously invited the rest of the family up on the patio. His wife came out and joined us. He was charming, choosing to mainly interact with the kids. We talked for only a few minutes, snapped a photo with him, and were then on our way. Of course, all of my siblings and their families did the same, so collectively, we were probably a nuisance.
He was genial, polite, and interested in us and our kids, especially our son who was serving a mission at that time. It was good to meet him, but mostly I was glad for the kids to have the interaction with an apostle. How cool is that?
Elder Holland wore a BYU volleyball polo shirt and khakis. Not having been around a lot of apostles in normal life, it was a bit odd for me. Odd, but refreshing. Sometimes we forget that even our highest leaders are people first.
One evening as I was heading in from the beach, Elder Holland was sitting alone on the patio, watching the waves and the sun as it sank to the horizon. About then, a gaggle of some twenty girls started gathering on the beach in front of the house next door.
They were young, probably college-aged, very attractive, and wearing the skimpiest of bikinis. Yes, I obviously spent too much time noticing these daughters of God—as my description has already betrayed me.
While I was watching, a most curious thought came to mind: These girls are standing here, mostly naked, fifteen feet in front of me. That means they are standing twenty feet in front of Elder Holland. I wonder if he is watching, too?
Cynical, I know, but what an odd situation!
I turned and resumed my walk back to our condo, passing Elder Holland. As discreetly as I could, I glanced over to observe his reaction to the girls.
He was gone.
In the brief time that I noticed the girls and resumed walking, Elder Holland had moved from his chair into his beach house and closed the curtains.
Now I can’t say for certain that the girls caused his leaving. Perhaps he had dinner plans, or his wife called him in. I do not know.
But I do know that while I was looking, he was leaving. The contrast was not lost on me. I know this story doesn’t paint me in the most flattering light, but I think the lesson is worth sharing.
As we are moving into Old Testament next year, the obvious comparison is the best one: King David.
And it came to pass in an eveningtide, that David arose from off his bed, and walked upon the roof of the king’s house: and from the roof he saw a woman washing herself; and the woman was very beautiful to look upon.
And David sent and inquired after the woman. And one said, Is not this Bathsheba, the daughter of Eliam, the wife of Uriah the Hittite?
And David sent messengers, and took her; and she came in unto him, and he lay with her; for she was purified from her uncleanness: and she returned unto her house. (2 Samuel 11:2–4).
Yeah, things got way out of hand.
Elder L. Whitney Clayton added this observation:
Do you see how David got caught in this trap? He was on a rooftop courtyard of his palace, and looking below in a neighboring yard, he saw something he never should have seen. That was the adversary’s bait. Modesty, chastity, and good judgment required that David turn away immediately and not watch, but he didn’t do either thing. Instead, he allowed his mind to turn to forbidden fantasies, those thoughts led to actions, and things quickly spiraled downward from bad to worse to fatal. David was trapped, and for him the consequences were eternal. (link)
The great basketball coach John Wooden is said to have claimed, “The true test of a man’s character is what he does when no one is watching.”
I would add, “…when no one is watching—or when they don’t know someone is watching.”
Elder Holland had no idea that he taught me a lesson that day on the beach. This also raises the scary question: Who was watching me on the beach that day, and what did they learn about me?
(This post is a revision of a story originally published in my book, There’s a Message Out There Somewhere.)
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Fantastic story Brad!
Brad, thank you for this personal, vulnerable, and insightful lesson. I appreciate it!
When my son was a young married student at BYU, he worked at kaye jeweler’s in the mall. One day during the Christmas season am older man can in dressed in khaki pants and a sweater looking for a present for his wife. As they chatted, my son thought he looked familiar and was trying to place him. A neighbor? A professor? Finally he asked if he worked at the school because he looked familiar. It was elder Tom Perry. They had a great conversation. As elder Perry walked of into the mall, my son watched and saw others just hurrying on their way oblivious to who was among them.
Fourteen years ago, my daughter was studying at the Jerusalem Center. The administration there announced that Elder Holland and some of his family were going to be staying there for a week or so… on their vacation. My daughter said the students were gently threatened to leave the Hollands alone – this was their personal time and needed this time to just be a family.
The students were scrupulously obedient. No one ever approached him, or Sister Holland, or spoke to them. She said she and her classmates even did their best to not even look or gawk.
Finally, after about three days of this, Elder Holland stood up in the middle of the cafeteria and announced broadly to everyone that he wasn’t sure what was going on, but that he didn’t have leprosy and that it was perfectly fine for students to visit with him.
So later that day she and two of her friends introduced themselves to him and had a wonderful conversation about life in Jerusalem and other things you just talk about with an Apostle in the wild. As they said goodbye, he gave daughter a big hug, and told her how beautiful she was.
When she shared the story with us when she called that night, she said, “Dad, Elder Holland gives better hugs than you do.” That’s the only bone I’ve ever had with the man. Up until that moment I was the hugging champion for my family.
I was always mildly tempted to write and ask for corcel, or pointers to improve my hugging game.