SUGAR HOUSE (or SUGARHOUSE) — For decades now, a debate has been raging in this otherwise quiet corner of Salt Lake City.
It's not a debate over business or child welfare or money or anything like that. This community is divided over nothing more complicated than its own name: Sugarhouse or Sugar House — one word or two?
"One of these days we're going to have an end-it-all soccer game to end this between the one-word and two-words people," said Sugar House Community Council member Lynne Olsen.
Drive down 2100 South or 1300 East or another Sugar House arterial and you'll see places right next to each other spell the name different ways. In fact, it is not at all uncommon for the same establishment to go both ways.
Across 2100 South from Sugarhouse Park, a large awning protruding from one business establishment proudly proclaims itself as "Sugarhouse Glass."
In the telephone book, however, that same business is listed as "Sugar House Glass & Mirror." There's Sugar House Furniture, but Sugarhouse Antiques. Sugar House Floral but Sugarhouse Financial. Sugarhouse Coffee but Sugar House Veterinary Hospital.
A trivial question? Hardly. This is something people get passionate about.
"Some woman contacted me just a couple of weeks ago, irate that we had spelled (the area) two words," Olsen said.
Sugar House got its name from a pioneer-era sugar refining plant that was located approximately at 2100 South and 1100 East. At the time the community was wondering whether to name itself after Parleys Creek, which flowed through there, or Bluff, or some other name. (The site where Sugarhouse Park now sits was originally called, in practical pioneer usage, Big Field.) On April 23, 1854, leaders of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints called a meeting to organize a ward in the area. One of the issues was what to name it. Margaret Smoot, a local resident known as "Ma," suggested the ward be named after the still-under-construction sugar mill.
"Sugar House" — or "Sugarhouse" — was the result.
People weren't terribly particular about spelling in the old days, but as the 19th century gave way to the 20th century and the written language tightened up and usage of the areas name proliferated, local residents got more and more concerned about consistency of nomenclature. The conflict came to a head in 1949, when there was a great debate over whether the name should be one word or two.
One word is convenient, some said, and better reflects how people say the phrase. On the other hand, you wouldn't call the Salt Palace the Saltpalace, would you? One edifice named after a grainy white food substance, the thinking might have gone, should be written the same as another.
After much argument, the community finally decided to let the local U.S. Post Office settle the matter. They looked at the official federal record, found that the post office spelled it "Sugar House," and the matter was settled. "Sugar House' would thenceforth be the area's official name.
Sort of. Notwithstanding the official end of the debate half a century ago, the discrepancy has persisted — even in official documents.
"People still insist that the post office was wrong," Olsen said.
Take the problem of Sugarhouse Park, that expanse of lawn and picnicking and in-line roller skating and Frisbee throwing on the site of the old Utah State Prison.
In 1957 — eight years after the official end of the name debate — Salt Lake City and County entered into an agreement forming the "Sugarhouse Park Authority,' the agreement mandating that the prison site (where notables including union agitator Joe Hill and prominent LDS polygamists had been housed) be "developed and operated as a public park for the recreational, educational, historical and cultural enjoyment of the residents of Salt Lake City and County and all other persons."
"Sugarhouse Park Authority." One word — and the park authority's articles of incorporation spelled it the same way.
Yeah, big deal, you might say — but it was a big enough deal for organizers to go to the trouble of amending the articles of incorporation a year later to specify that "Sugarhouse Park Authority" would thenceforth be known as "Sugar House Park Authority." "It's two words," said park authority president Rita Lund. "But the Sugar House community has struggled with that for years and years." The authority itself has been less than consistent. Go to the park today and you'll see posted regulations signed by the "Sugar House Park Authority," but at least one (specifying that vendors need a permit) signed "Sugarhouse Park Authority." What's more, the park authority is a separate entity from the park itself, and that incorporation amendment changed only the name of the authority — not the park. You might therefore deduce that the park should spell "Sugarhouse" as one word and the authority as two words.
You wouldn't, in fact, be alone in that conclusion. With impeccable, if tortuous, logic, no less a prestigious source than the Deseret Morning News style guide mandates that the community "Sugar House" be spelled with two words, but "Sugarhouse Park" be spelled with one word. "Sugar House Park Authority," however, should be spelled with two words.
And you wonder why reporters take to drink.
The only sure conclusion one can reach in the matter is that no sure conclusion is ever likely to be reached.
"If somebody has gone to the trouble of making a sign for their business spelling it one way, they're not about to give in to the other folks," Olsen said.
The biggest irony of all is that the sugar mill that spawned the entire name debate never actually produced any sugar. It was a bust.
Maybe we should change the name to No Sugar House.
E-mail: aedwards@desnews.com