The Salt Lake Organizing Committee's 19,000 Olympic volunteers will have much to say about whether the 2002 Winter Games will become known as the "Mormon Olympics."
Along with accommodating visitors, the volunteers will become the face of Utah to the world. In large part, it will be up to them to debunk the many misconceptions outsiders have of Utahns, including the idea that the state is mostly a clannish band of polygamists.
"Volunteers are the face of the Games and in large part what the spectators will remember," says Ed Eynon, SLOC senior vice president for human resources.
But uncloaking myths about Utah and The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter- day Saints — which originally endorsed polygamy but has condemned plural marriage for more than a century now — will take some explanation about what the LDS Church is today. Volunteers, then, will walk a fine line between debunking and proselytizing.
They will walk that line knowing their boss, SLOC President Mitt Romney, and Salt Lake Mayor Rocky Anderson have made it clear that they don't want the 2002 Games to be known as the "Mormon Games."
To fight the monicker, which has been used by national publications including Time and Newsweek, SLOC leaders have told volunteers they shouldn't try to win converts. But organizers have stopped short of saying that religion is entirely taboo.
"Though we don't say 'hey don't preach,' we do teach, more practically, what to do," Eynon said. "It would be in bad taste for any volunteer to promote anything that isn't related to the Olympics."
In Salt Lake City, however, it's hard to say that the LDS Church isn't related to the Olympics.
Native Salt Laker John Green, 34-year-old husband and father, is one who thinks the city should embrace its heritage. That includes owning up to the fact that the city was settled by LDS pioneers, some of whom practiced polygamy.
"Whether the mayor likes it or not, Salt Lake City and the Mormon Church are nearly synonymous," Green said. "How does he or Mr. Romney think they can pull off the Olympics without assistance from the church or its members?"
Indeed, SLOC has received major support from the church and, to a greater degree, its membership.
Organizers have played on the church's long-standing tradition of voluntarism as requests for Olympic volunteers have gone out from pulpits at LDS wards.
Then there's the fact that many church members served missions abroad and can use their secondary language skills to communicate with hoards of international athletes, officials and visitors.
While SLOC hasn't kept tabs on volunteers' religions, Eynon said at least 85 percent of volunteers will be from Utah and roughly 70 percent of Utahns belong to the LDS Church.
Kennan Beckstrand is one example.
The 44-year-old served an LDS mission in Japan and taught elementary school there for 10 years. As a volunteer he will function as a national Olympic committee assistant to Japan.
While he won't be handing out LDS scriptures during the Games, "If they ask and they really want to know something, I will answer their questions," he said. "If they want to ask questions to know about the church, I can take them so they can hear a missionary."
Besides fielding questions about the church, Beckstrand will try to debunk LDS stereotypes. He's had practice.
In March, Beckstrand hosted an Olympic venue tour for the heads, or chefs de mission, of numerous national Olympic committees worldwide.
The Romanian chef de mission insisted that Beckstrand show him a Mormon. When Beckstrand finally told him that "Mormons" were all around, the Romanian said, "No! Big hat, long black coat, many wives."
The guy was looking for a polygamist Quaker, Beckstrand said.
"If the heads of the national Olympic committees are coming expecting that (then), wait a minute, they're not really aware of what our state is or what the people are like," Beckstrand said.
Non-LDS volunteers likely will be debunking similar myths.
It's a task Salt Lake resident Christine Archibald has been doing since she moved from Missouri in 1994.
As owner of a software company, Archibald frequently does business out of state and is surprised by the number of people who still think Latter-day Saints practice plural marriage.
"Oh, the polygamy," she said. "It's so interesting because the Mormon Church, you know, has said that that is something we don't do for over 100 years now; so it's just interesting to see how long it takes before those type of images (go away)."
There's more stereotypes, said Archibald, who will be a national Olympic assistant for New Zealand during the Games.
In general, outsiders see Latter-day Saints as clannish and close-knit with an attitude that "if you're not LDS, you can't play with us," Archibald said.
Again, it's not true, she said, noting that in the personal crises she's had she couldn't ask for better friends.
With volunteers out to show the world that Utahns aren't weird, it's seemingly impossible that a little LDS religion won't seep into the effort.
How much seeps in depends on the volunteer.
April Frampton, an LDS mother of two and Olympic volunteer, says she wants people to remember Utahns, not the church.
"People are going to come and see there's a whole other side to Utah other than just the LDS," Frampton said. "I mean I don't have a problem talking about the religion, but I want people to come here and say those Utahns are awesome. They've got the spirit."
Time will tell what spectators remember most — LDS Church members or Utahns. That recollection will go a long way in determining whether the 2002 Games are slapped with the "Mo-lympics" monicker — a good thing or bad depending on who's talking.
E-MAIL: bsnyder@desnews.com