When Tom’s alarm rang at 6:00am, I was as excited as a youngster on his or her Little League team’s Opening Day. And for good reason – there wasn’t a cloud in the sky on Tuesday July 8, 2025 and my photographer, his wife Vicki, and I were about to head into Salt Lake City, Utah for the first of our many sightseeing adventures of the trip. While it’s true I had visited several sites during our three-day drive from Michigan to Utah, including President Herbert Hoover’s birthplace and grave in West Branch, Iowa, but now it was time for me to dive head-first into uncharted territory, at least for the three of us.
With Vicki behind the wheel of our Jeep Grand Cherokee, we left the Comfort Inn in Ogden, Utah at precisely 8:00am. The morning Southbound traffic was heavy, but it moved steadily throughout the 47-mile drive past Salt Lake City and into its suburb known as Midvale.
During the hour-long commute to our first site of the day, my photographer was engaged in a steady text conversation with his good friend back in Michigan – Earl McCartney. For the past eleven-plus years, Earl has been in a courageous battle with cancer, which has become a struggle in recent months. During our last dozen or so trips, my photographer has recorded and sent personalized videos to his friend, which has given Earl a chance to see places he might never be able to visit on his own. When McCartney discovered we were in Salt Lake City that morning, he had one special request: “Go to Kindig-It Design in Salt Lake City for me, would ya? Would LOVE a big hello from Dave Kindig and Kevdogg. It’s a hotrod shop; I watch them all the time. I love those guys.”
It turned out Kindig-It Design is the centerpiece of a reality TV show called Bitchin’ Rides, which is recorded at the shop and features unique cars restored and rebuilt by owner Dave Kindig and his crew for their clientele. Even though the three of us had never heard of Dave Kindig or his TV show, I knew in my resin heart we’d end up at Kindig-It Design at some point that morning, just for Earl. My photographer ended his twenty-minute chat with McCartney with one of his usual “brotherly love” verbal barbs, which the two of them typically trade back and forth. Tom wrote sarcastically to his friend, “I’ll tell Dave you’re mentally retarded and you’d love a shout out. How can he deny that request?” Just when I thought my photographer was changing his ways and transforming into a more compassionate human being, Tom says something that proves he’s still an a$$hole.
First things first. When we arrived in Midvale around nine o’clock, Vicki parked the Jeep in a lot behind a section of shops located along the town’s Main Street. A minute or so after Tom carried me through a narrow alleyway, our first site of the day came into view – a place called Vincent Drug. Okay, the drugstore/soda fountain shop was called Vincent Drug when it was featured in the 1993 movie The Sandlot. Ten years after the movie hit the silver screen, however, Vincent Drug closed its doors for good. Today, the building has been revamped and plays host to a horticultural shop.
When my photographer set me on the sidewalk in front of the former drug store and fountain shop, I thought about Squints and Yeah-Yeah as they walked out of the door with a brand-new baseball in hand. But suddenly, SHE appeared in mind’s eye. As I stood in the footsteps of Michael ‘Squints’ Palledorous, nineteen-year-old Wendy Peffercorn came out of nowhere and was headed my way. And just like ‘Squints’ did in the movie, I stood frozen in time and uttered the words that flowed from my resin heart, “Wow. Wendy Peffercorn. Mmmmm!”
Even though Vincent Drug’s facade had changed drastically since the movie was filmed in 1993, I thought it was a great place to kick-off our tour of Salt Lake City. After the three of us had retraced our steps back through the alley, we came face to face with Michael ‘Squints’ Palledorous – and the 13-year-old ball player looked spectacular. No, we didn’t cross paths with actor Chauncey Leopardi. Instead, we saw a larger-than-life mural of Squints, which had been spray-painted by artist Thomas Evans on the building’s brick wall where the Coca Cola advertising sign had been displayed in the movie.
The Sandlot is a classic, and over the years, my photographer and I have watched that movie a countless number of times. To be honest, I believe that film takes Tom back to his childhood where he spent nearly every day of the Summer playing baseball on his own sandlot in Marine City, Michigan.
While all good things must end, our Sandlot tour in Salt Lake City had just begun. But first, my photographer had a promise to fulfill. That’s right – we were headed for Kindig-It Design, which was only six miles to the North.
After the short drive into Millcreek, which was located roughly halfway between Midvale and downtown Salt Lake City, Vicki found a good parking spot on the street in front of the family-owned auto restoration shop known as Kindig-It Design. Without knowing for sure what to expect, and since it wasn’t a Presidential site nor had I ever heard of the show Bitchin’ Rides, I wasn’t overly thrilled about my photographer’s decision to stop there. But the more I thought about it, however, the more I realized our visit might put a smile on Earl McCartney’s face all the way back in Michigan – and that alone would be priceless.
Although there was no possible way for me or my companions to get inside the garage or restoration area of the large building at Kindig-It Design, we did enter the building through the public showroom and office area entrance. Once inside, it was an eye-opening experience for me when I saw a few of the vehicles restored or owned by Dave Kindig himself. One of the autos, a 1969 Camaro 502 RS, was renovated on the show and was for sale at the low-low price of only $310,000.
Drew Kindig, who is the son of the shop’s owner and a regular on the show Bitchin’ Rides, was kind enough to not only send a personal shoutout to Earl, but he also took the time to take us on a personal tour of the showroom, which Tom recorded and sent to his friend. Then moments later, in another gracious act of kindness, Drew talked one-on-one with Earl via FaceTime from my photographer’s phone. I had to admit; a small tear formed on the corner of my painted eyes when I saw the huge grin on McCartney’s face.
Suddenly, as my companions shopped for a couple of souvenirs, the “Main Man” himself showed up. That’s right, Dave Kindig had arrived, and it caused quite a buzz throughout the showroom. As the head honcho walked up a set of stairs towards his upper-level office, I heard Tom ask Kindig if he would record a “video shout-out” to his good buddy back in Michigan. Dave stopped in his tracks, smiled, and said “I’d be honored to say hi to Earl. Let’s do it!”
When the three of us returned to the Jeep, a series of text messages flooded Tom’s phone. Each of the messages were from Earl, who had watched the videos and reacted like a thirsty baby in a boob store.
“OMG, those videos are so unfreakingbelievably cool – something positive in my life. I watched the Camaro and CF1 get built. That’s so awesome.” Then Earl added, “I feel like a kid. I’ve watched those three videos five times apiece already. Quite a highlight for this old fella, Tom; Dave Kindig is my ‘Thomas Jefferson’ of car building.”
During the five-mile drive to our next site of the day, I had a newfound appreciation for my photographer. Not only did my fat friend go “off script” from his well-planned agenda, but Tom also spent nearly 45 minutes at a place he had never heard of before, just so he could make someone else happy. After twelve long years of travelling around the country, I think my camera guy has finally evolved into a decent human being – and it’s about damned time!
Finding the exact location of our next site associated with the film The Sandlot proved to be a walk in the park. Liberty Park, that is. When Vicki pulled into the 80-acre urban park on the South side of Salt Lake City, Tom used a map that helped guide us to the precise location where a portion of the famous “Chase Scene” was filmed for the movie.
In the high-octane scene where Benny Rodriguez finally nabbed the baseball signed by Babe Ruth, which had been closely guarded by a large English Mastiff named Hercules, the speedy youngster fled the area on foot with the huge dog in hot pursuit. “The Beast” chased Rodriguez from the ball diamond, through an alleyway and a nearby theater, then into a park where the 1962 Founders Day ‘Picnic in the Park’ was ongoing. From the park, Benny ‘The Jet’ continued his sprint to the community pool and then back to the sandlot where he met up with the other eight members of his team, each of whom did their best to follow the entire chase sequence on foot as well.
Although the film made it appear Hercules had chased Rodriguez for a handful of blocks or so, in reality, the total distance would have covered roughly 80 miles from start to finish. It was pure Hollywood magic, which was something the three of us were going to need as the day’s temperatures began to rise. At eleven o’clock in the morning, the thermometer had already surpassed 90 degrees with no end, or cloud cover, in sight.
Once my photographer was confident we had found the location in Liberty Park where Hercules had chased Benny through the picnic area, I was placed on the ground where I posed for a couple of photos. There were several times during our five-minute photoshoot when I became concerned that a cyclist, or a kid on a skateboard, might run me over while I stood on the ground. Thankfully everything worked out – I remained in one piece and Tom was able to avoid the less fortunate people who were at the park in search of a handout. I certainly wasn’t shocked by Tom’s antics. After all, my cheap photographer had already done one good deed for the day; he sure in the heck-fire wasn’t about to fork-over any spare change.
Our personal tour of The Sandlot film locations remained in full swing when we left Liberty Park, rounded third, and headed for home. The home of Scott Smalls, that is. When Vicki pulled up to the curb at the corner of Bryan Avenue and South 2000 Street in the Bonneville Hills section of Salt Lake City, we had arrived at a very recognizable location used in the movie. Three houses, all located within a baseball-throwing distance from each other, were used as the homes of Scott Smalls, Benny Rodriguez, and Ham Porter. The corner where Vicki sat in the Jeep and waited for us was also prominent in the film – it served as the backdrop for the street party during the Fourth of July fireworks scene.
During our short visit to that area, Tom made me pose for photos near the front of each home. Since the three houses used in the movie were privately owned, the two of us never stepped foot on private property. Instead, my photographer and I remained on the public sidewalk or in the middle of the road.
As I posed near Scott Smalls’ home, I envisioned Benny as he walked up the sidewalk in front of me. Rodriguez invited Smalls, who was sitting on his porch, to play baseball with the rest of the team. Benny also gave the new kid on the block a baseball glove to replace Scott’s broken one. It was the start of a great friendship, and it set the stage for the rest of the movie.
In the movie, it appeared Scott Smalls, Benny Rodriguez, and Ham Porter had only a short walk down the street to play ball at the sandlot field. Would you believe the field was actually located six miles West of where the boys lived? Once again, ya gotta love the magic of Hollywood.
The morning temperature continued to rise when we arrived at The Sandlot baseball field movie site at 12 noon. I was excited, because of all the film locations associated with that 1993 classic film, this was going to be the pièce de résistance for us. However, when Tom removed me from the camera case at the location, I didn’t see any players; I didn’t see a tree house near the outfield fence; and worse yet, I didn’t see a baseball diamond. The only thing my painted eyes saw was a vacant, unkempt field of weeds situated behind a couple of the houses, and we couldn’t get very close to that because the movie site was on privately-owned fenced-in property with no public access.
When I first heard Tom say we were going to visit the sandlot field, I envisioned me standing on the mound where Kenny DeNunez had pitched; or behind the plate where Ham Porter harassed the batters; or even in left field where Scott Smalls had made his first-ever catch of a fly ball. A true sense of disappointment filled my resin body – we were so close, yet so far away from arguably the most famous baseball field in movie history. Suddenly, the Hollywood magic seemed to vanish before my eyes.
Then out of nowhere, a man who lived in the house adjacent to the field walked towards us. He was there to adjust the caution tape he had placed around his yard to keep tourists from walking on his grass – which, quite frankly, was already brown from the lack of water. Seconds later, I heard Tom say to the guy, who looked like he was in no mood for a chit chat with a stranger, “We didn’t knock over your tape, it was already like that. I always respect a person’s private property and would never think about trespassing.” All I could do was roll my eyes!
When the large man smiled and said he knew we hadn’t knocked down his tape, my photographer jumped at the potential opportunity to get closer to his fence. “I’m a huge fan of The Sandlot movie and I came all the way from Michigan to see this site. As a matter of fact, my grandkids love the movie too, and they’re playing on their All-Star teams back home right now. Would you allow me to get closer to your fence so I can get an unobstructed photo of the field? I promise I won’t try to climb over the fence or damage it in any way.”
The man, who reminded me of a younger James Earl Jones from The Sandlot, once again smiled and said, “Yes, you can get up close to my fence for your pictures. All I axe is you try to stay off the grass as much as possible.” I couldn’t help but think to myself, “What grass?”
Even though our new position next to the fence was closer to the field, the view we had of the movie site wasn’t ideal. But like I’ve always said, when you’re given a bunch of lemons, you make lemonade – or furniture polish. I posed for a handful of photos with the “Field of Childhood Dreams” behind me, and throughout that five-minute ordeal, I thought about Scott Smalls and the rest of the gang as they played baseball there. The funny thing was, I also sensed the movie site had brought back a flood of childhood memories for my photographer as well. For years during his youth, Tom played ball with the neighborhood kids on his own sandlot in Marine City, Michigan. Unfortunately, my photographer wasn’t slapped with a cool childhood nickname, such as Squints, or The Jet, or even Yeah-Yeah. After he got married, however, I imagined his wife calling him Smalls or Shorty, and it likely wasn’t because of his stature on the pitcher’s mound.
When Tom carried me back to the Jeep after he finished photographing the weed-filled movie site, I had one small wish. Perhaps someday an entrepreneur will purchase the property where The Sandlot kids played baseball and allow visitors to play ball there as well – even if there’s a small entry fee attached. In other words, “If you buy it, they will come. And best of all, they’ll be able to play ball like a girl!”
Even though we had just visited the ‘Holy Grail’ of The Sandlot sites, disappointing as it was, there was still one filming location left on our day’s agenda. I’m talking about the movie theater and adjacent alleyway where Hercules chased Benny, who still had the signed Babe Ruth ball in his hand.
Ironically, the “chase scene” in The Sandlot started at the ball diamond and continued to the movie theater where The Wolf Man was the feature film. Benny ran down a long alley, then jumped a concrete wall, and then went through the theater’s doorway to escape the pursuing English Mastiff. The dog, who was on the heels of the speedy Rodriguez, crashed his way through the doors and continued the chase into the theater.
When the three of us got to the film location after a two-mile drive from the sandlot field site, Vicki stayed with the Jeep while Tom carried me to the North side of what’s now the Harold B. Lee Hall Stack Gymnasium, which is currently owned by the Latter-day Saints. Not only did I pose near the same doorway used in the movie, but my photographer also carried me into the alley where some of the action was filmed.
The Sandlot was a classic ‘coming-of-age’ movie in which kids around the country memorized iconic quotes such as “You’re killin’ me Smalls”, “For-Ev-Ver”, “You play ball like a girl”, and “Heroes get remembered, but legends never die”. There were also the saltier quotes from the film, such as “Count on it, pee-drinking crap face”, or “You bob for apples in the toilet, and you like it”, and of course, “If I had a dog as ugly as you, I’d shave its butt and tell him to walk backwards.”
Tom, Vicki, and I had crisscrossed the Salt Lake City area all morning as we visited the sites where some of the memorable scenes from the movie were filmed. And we weren’t finished. It turned out my photographer still had the Little League baseball field and the community pool remaining on his agenda.
At 12:30 in the afternoon, and with the temperature gauge on the Jeep’s dashboard reading 96 degrees, I heard Tom say to his wife, “We’ll visit the other two movie sites tomorrow morning before we head out of town. For now, let’s drive to the Tabernacle and the State Capitol Building before it gets too hot.” Vicki shook her head and replied, “It’s ninety-six degrees outside; I think you’re too late. But I want to see the Tabernacle, too, so let’s go before we melt.”
Little did my photographer’s wife know, but the Mormon Tabernacle was a Presidential site. Twelve of our Chief Executives have spoken from the pulpit in that historic building, and even more Presidents have stayed at the nearby Hotel Utah, which Tom knew was located alongside Temple Square and not too far from the Tabernacle.
Following a traffic-filled two-mile drive into downtown Salt Lake City, we quickly discovered there would be a problem parking anywhere near the historic Salt Lake Tabernacle. To make matters worse, construction crews had partially barricaded some of the roads all around Temple Square – and I could tell Vicki was about to blow a gasket in her frontal lobe. After my photographer’s wife circled the historic square twice, each time with no luck at finding a place to park the Jeep, Tom suggested we go to the State Capitol Building first. He said there should be plenty of parking; the building would be air-conditioned; and best of all, my photographer figured the two of them could find a place to relieve their bladder tensions.
Tom’s idea turned out to be a Godsend; and I didn’t want to say it out loud, but sometimes that guy amazes me. Not only did the one-mile drive get us away from the hustle and bustle of Temple Square, but parking was readily available very close to the Capitol Building. And most importantly, Vicki’s demeanor instantly changed.
Just as our short hike to the Capitol began, the intense heat of the early afternoon engulfed my resin body, and I quickly grew concerned about the well-being of my out-of-shape chunky friend who carried me. I kept thinking to myself, “If he passes out, I hope I land on top of that fat bastard and not on the concrete sidewalk.”
The Utah State Capitol Building was a breath of fresh, hot air compared to the monstrosity we had visited in Lincoln, Nebraska a couple of day earlier. While it paled in comparison in height to the skyscraper in Lincoln, the building in front of me was still the ninth tallest Capitol in the country. From the base of its Utah granite walls to the top of the dome, the structure rose above the surrounding landscape at an impressive height of 286 feet.
I posed for some photos in several different locations on the grounds before Tom carried me inside where we caught a respite from the heat. I thought the interior of the building was nice, although not as grandeur as some of the other Capitol buildings I’ve visited in the past. Here are some of the images my photographer captured of me in and around the Utah State Capitol Building.
We had spent about 45 minutes inside the Capitol when I heard my photographer tell his wife it was time to make another stab at getting inside the Mormon Tabernacle. At two o’clock in the afternoon, I figured the parking situation amongst the construction wasn’t going to improve from our first attempt. But I also knew my stubborn camera guy wasn’t going to miss a Presidential site without a fight – and that’s one of the things I admire about him.
Then suddenly, out of nowhere, I was totally shocked. For what did my painted resin eyes see? I saw my photographer, who has never been a fan of authority figures, approach a security officer and I heard Tom ask the officer if he knew of a place where we could park near the Tabernacle. Not only did the friendly cop not hesitate, but he gave Tom step-by-step verbal instructions on how to get there.
Using the officer’s instructions, we were in the underground parking structure in less than ten minutes after we left the Capitol. I couldn’t believe how easy it was, and I had hoped my photographer would have a better appreciation for the police. But my hopes were dashed when Tom said, “Thankfully that donut muncher was right. But I think I would’ve found this place even without his help.” All I could do was shake my head in disgust.
It turned out the underground structure where we parked was beneath the Joseph Smith Memorial Building, which was only a short hike from the Mormon Tabernacle. Due to the ongoing renovation project at the Salt Lake Utah Temple, however, we were forced to make a longer hike around the block instead of cutting directly through Temple Square. Following an exhausting fifteen-minute walk in the intense heat, we finally made it – we were at our first Presidential site since we left West Branch, Iowa.
I was surprised when I posed outside of the Tabernacle. I had expected to see a building which resembled a church, but instead it looked like an old hockey arena with an aluminum roof. But once we made it inside the historic building, there was no Zamboni or ice rink in sight. Instead, I saw a humongous and beautiful pipe organ that rose up above the choral seats and the endless rows of wooden pews.
The original Tabernacle pipe organ was built in 1867 but has been enlarged and renovated over time. Today, the organ consists of 11,623 pipes and is one of the largest pipe organs in the world. Located below and in front of the massive organ was the pulpit, which was the place where a dozen U.S. Presidents had spoken from in the past. As I gazed in astonishment at the site before me, I thought about President John F. Kennedy when he addressed the assembly from that pulpit on September 26, 1963 – which was less than two months before he was killed in Dallas.
During his speech, JFK talked about Utah’s history and the importance of preserving its vast natural resources. But he also talked about the reality of the Cold War, the threat from our foreign adversaries, and the importance of a strong military. Kennedy said, “It took Brigham Young and his followers 108 days to go from Winter Quarters, Nebraska, to the valley of the Great Salt Lake. It takes 30 minutes for a missile to go from one continent to another. We did not seek to become a world power. This position was thrust upon us by events. But we became one just the same, and I am proud that we did.”
For a brief and shining moment, I thought I heard JFK’s New England accent as it echoed through the acoustically designed building. Was it a sign from the Great Divine, or just my wild imagination? Either way, it brought a smile to my painted face.
Our visit inside the Tabernacle lasted roughly 30 minutes – and not surprisingly, the time went by fast because Tom and I were totally absorbed in the Presidential history. Vicki, on the other hand, became engaged in a conversation with a young girl from Mozambique, who was there with dozens of other foreign girls as they performed mission work for the church.
Back outside, I instantly thought I was going to melt in the heat. At one point, I envisioned a bum on the street corner holding a sign that read “Will work for shade.” Tom and Vicki took their time during our hike back towards the Joseph Smith Memorial Building as they rested beneath every shaded overhang they could find. But just when I thought my photographer was about to collapse into a molten puddle of liquid fat on the sidewalk, he was suddenly re-energized when the enormous building came into view. “There it is – Hotel Utah, I recognize it from the old pictures. That’s the last Presidential site we need to see today.”
It turned out the historic Hotel Utah, which was constructed between 1909 and 1911, was transformed into the memorial building for the Latter-day Saints founder in 1993 after it ceased operations as a hotel six years earlier. Every U.S. President from William Howard Taft onward had stayed at Hotel Utah, but the primary reason for our visit was Presidents Warren G. Harding and John F. Kennedy were photographed near the exterior of the historic building. Ironically, both of those Presidents died shortly after their visit – Harding passed away 37 days after he had dinner at Hotel Utah; and JFK was assassinated only 57 days after he stayed at the historic hotel. But since my photographer and I have never worried about bad Presidential juju, I posed where Harding and JFK were both photographed outside the building. At that moment, I thought about the irony and figured 77 days from that point was September 23rd. Thankfully I won’t be anywhere near San Francisco or Dallas on that day.
It was roughly 4:30pm when Tom had carried me through the memorial building and into the underground parking structure where our Jeep was waiting. At that moment, I thought my photographer and his wife were making plans to drive to the Great Salt Lake, which was only ten miles to the West. But due to the intense heat of the day and possible traffic issues, they decided to head North to our hotel in Ogden instead. I was disappointed – I had hoped to step foot in the eighth largest lake in the United States, but that never happened. We were so close, yet so far away.
As expected, traffic was heavy during our 37-mile return trip to Ogden. During one congested traffic snarl, I thought we could move faster had we been walking. But when I poked my head out of the camera case and saw the temperature on the Jeep’s dashboard, which read 102 degrees, I was happy to be in the air conditioning. It suddenly didn’t matter how slowly we were travelling.
We made it back to Ogden shortly before six o’clock, but instead of driving straight for our hotel, Tom decided he wanted pizza from a place called Slackwater because my photographer said he liked the name, and he thought the pies looked amazing on their website. But 45 minutes after we were seated, and he began to devour his choice of pizza called ‘Grape and Gorgeous’, Tom changed his tune. I laughed when my chubby friend said it may have been the worst pizza he’s ever eaten, even though he likes grapes. I had to agree with his assessment – when I stood close to his pie, I thought I caught a whiff of rotten feet that were soaked in a sour balsamic dressing. During the entire meal, I wished an unbathed homeless guy would walk past us, just to drown out the smell of the pizza. Needless to say, Tom walked out of Slackwater without a full stomach, and I couldn’t get the stench of his pizza out of my resin nose hairs.
Once back at the Comfort Inn, Tom placed me alongside the television set where I spent the night. The two of us watched ‘The Secret of Skinwalker Ranch‘, which is one of my photographer’s favorite TV shows. During the one-hour episode, which featured some incredibly weird stuff, it dawned on me that we were only three hours Northwest of the actual Skinwalker Ranch. So close, yet so far away – and for once, that may have been a good thing.
When the lights were extinguished at 9:40pm, I stood in the darkness and thought about some of the sites we had visited that day. I thoroughly enjoyed the few Presidential sites we saw, and I loved our stop at the Capitol. I also thought the handful of locations where The Sandlot was filmed were cool, too, especially when I envisioned Wendy Peffercorn.
But the highlight of the day for me, and I think it was for my photographer as well, was our unscheduled stop at Kindig-It Design. It wasn’t because of the unique cars we saw in the showroom, or the fact we met a couple of the stars from the reality hotrod show called ‘Bitchin’ Rides‘. Instead, it was the smile I saw on Earl McCartney’s face, and the excitement I heard in Earl’s voice when he chatted with Drew Kindig via FaceTime, that I will never forget.
It’s the little things in life we should never take for granted.
