Bill Martineau was a happy man. Jobs were scarce in Utah during the summer of 1963 and he was elated at having found work as a lumber jack in the High Uintah Mountains. He worked very hard during the week and commuted back to Provo on the weekends. That commute took him through the beautiful dairy farming community of Heber City nestled in a green valley in the shadow of snow capped Mount Timpanogas. One day while passing through the town in his dilapidated used car, he ran into a little jersey ...