By Michael Patrick O’Brien–
Newspapers loved writing about the old Trappist monastery in Huntsville, Utah. They normally reported some version of the same basic story—Holy Trinity Abbey was an odd but peaceful place with unusual men who lived a unique lifestyle based on a thousand-year-old European tradition. BTW, they made great bread and honey too.
Despite the typical story, however, many more of the archived news items I found take a different approach. In these media reports, the abbey is depicted in a much more organic and ordinary way, as a treasured part of daily life in the neighborhood.
During the monastery’s 70 years in the Ogden Valley, published lists of the “must see” Northern Utah tourist attractions regularly included the abbey and its famous wheat bread and creamed honey. The recommended monastery visit often was paired with a suggested stop either at the infamous Shooting Star Saloon—said to be the oldest tavern in Utah—or at the Huntsville boyhood of home of David O. McKay, a past president of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
During the 2002 Olympics, which featured downhill races held at nearby Mount Ogden, some 30,000 tourists from all over the world flooded into the Ogden Valley, normally home to only about 6,000 people. In the run up to the games, reporters asked the monks how they were preparing for the influx. My friend Father Patrick Boyle said they had no specific plans. Then, on further reflection, he added that maybe they’d ask the bees to make a little more honey.
Of course, not everyone at the abbey was an international tourist. There are hundreds of what I call “local visitor” reports in the old newspaper files. These articles, in weekly or community newspapers, reported how this group or that association had just visited—or was about to visit—the abbey.
These visitors ran the gamut of possible human organizations—youth groups, elderly groups, agricultural interests, civic groups, and all sorts of religious denominations. And school groups. Teachers took their students to the abbey to learn about world religions, European history, agriculture, and monastic chant.
They came from all over Utah and the Intermountain West, including Idaho, Wyoming, Nevada, and Colorado. If they called ahead and scheduled it, the monks provided a slide show presentation and a short talk. My friend Father David Altman mastered this art form, slipping in clever jokes along with the substantive information about what Trappists did and why.
Most of these visitors probably also met Father Patrick, who worked in the abbey gift shop for about half a century. Father Patrick did not think of them as customers, but as part of “the mystical Body of Christ.” Many folks would tell him they did not attend a church. He always smiled, and replied, “Of course not, but you are your own church, did you know that?”
Some visitors stayed longer than just a few hours, making extended pilgrimages or retreats at the monastery guest house. This included Catholic priests, Catholic lay men and women, and Catholic youth. It was not just Catholics, however, who sought to recharge their spiritual batteries at Holy Trinity Abbey.
Several old newspaper articles report planned or successful retreats by Episcopal priests, Presbyterian pastors, Baptist preachers, and various church/religious associations of many different Protestant denominations. One ministerial association called its annual monastery retreat the “high point” of the group’s activity year.
Even young Latter-day Saint men preparing for their missions went there. They’d talk with the Trappists, walk along Abbey Road, and spend a few days reading The Book of Mormon in the peaceful setting of chanting monks and ringing bells.
Monastery retreats also captured the corporate imagination. One news article from 1954 explained, “Many businessmen, incidentally, go on weekend retreats, staying in special guest rooms…a prominent Salt Lake City figure [goes] nearly every week for a day or two, enjoying monastery life as a sort of refuge from the hurly-burly of today’s ‘normal’ existence.”
Speaking of business, the monastery was a boon for the Ogden Valley real estate market. There are countless archived newspaper advertisements trying to sell Huntsville houses, lots, and ranches by mentioning how close the land was to the monastery. The monks were good for property values, and Trappist proximity was a big selling point.
People also remembered the monks during their final moments. I found many archived obituaries listing a friendship with the Trappists as a life highlight. Some obituaries discussed time spent at the old abbey while other last tributes noted a profound impact from either the quiet land or the hospitable monks.
Several published obituaries explained how Holy Trinity Abbey had a “special place” in someone’s heart, and how the dearly departed “loved the peace and solitude” found there. In lieu of funeral flowers, many obituaries—including my own mother’s in April 2007—suggested gifts to the monastery.
All these casual newspaper mentions/references confirm what anyone who knew the monks already understands—the monks loved being part of their local community and the community loved them right back.
The Trappists followed the Rule of St. Benedict, which states, “Let all guests who arrive be received like Christ, for He is going to say, ‘I came as a guest, and you received Me’ (Matt. 25:35).” It’s not breaking news that this rule was honored every single day at Holy Trinity Abbey.
*Mike O’Brien is a writer and attorney living in Salt Lake City, Utah. His book Monastery Mornings (found here), about growing up with the monks at the old Trappist monastery in Huntsville, Utah, was published by Paraclete Press (more information here) in August 2021.
