{"id":2225,"date":"2005-04-21T11:19:25","date_gmt":"2005-04-21T17:19:25","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/speeches-dev.byu.edu\/?p=2225"},"modified":"2021-03-15T10:47:10","modified_gmt":"2021-03-15T16:47:10","slug":"spirit-of-the-y","status":"publish","type":"speech","link":"https:\/\/speeches-dev.byu.edu\/talks\/carr-krueger\/spirit-of-the-y\/","title":{"rendered":"The Spirit of the Y"},"content":{"rendered":"

Like your parents\u2014and probably like you when you are parents\u2014our family has set certain standards in our home for ourselves and for our children. One relatively high standard in our home involves the privilege of driving. If our children meet certain criteria, they are allowed the use of their parent\u2019s car. If the standard is not met, they know better than to bother asking. Do they complain? Absolutely. Do they have a hope of changing Dad\u2019s mind? None!<\/p>\n

Some time ago I was dropping off my then unlicensed 16-year-old son at an early morning Saturday football practice. Now, although my sons are wonderful, bright, capable boys, during their teen years they each developed the \u201cgrunt-only-if-required\u201d and \u201conly-if-it-produces-food\u201d vocabulary common to their age group.<\/p>\n

That Saturday morning this nondriving, slightly frustrated, monosyllabic son in the passenger seat came out of left field and nearly blew my mind with a singularly unexpected phrase. After I said my customary farewell of \u201cHave a great day, Son!\u201d Tyler, in an almost imperceptible voice, said, \u201cI love you.\u201d<\/p>\n

So unexpected was this remark that for a moment I was utterly dumbfounded, and it left me completely speechless. My silence and surprise was visibly noticeable as Tyler seemed to wait for a response. His expression of love, which had been infrequently heard, was burning inside of me as I replied, \u201cTyler, I love you too.\u201d<\/p>\n

The height of my euphoric surprise was only surpassed, however, by my son\u2019s disbelief in his apparently hearing-impaired father as he retorted, \u201cEleven! Pick me up at eleven,\u201d then walked away shaking his head.<\/p>\n

I could hardly drive home as tears streamed down my face\u2014not from sadness but from near-hysterical laughter: \u201cEleven.\u201d<\/p>\n

We have laughed about this many times since, and I have reflected on this experience frequently. Perhaps he had spoken unclearly, or perhaps I had heard what I wanted to hear, but clearly a mistake had been made in my understanding.<\/p>\n

Today I hope to speak clearly so there is no mistake in your understanding.<\/p>\n

There is a spirit on this campus that cannot be found anywhere else. We call it the Spirit of the Y.<\/p>\n

Many of the defining experiences of my life were obtained here at BYU\u2014on what I believe is hallowed ground:<\/p>\n