The conference I remember best: Pres. Benson shares frailty, humor over pulpit

I grew up in the Midwest, the fifth of six kids in a strong LDS family. My dad became the first stake president of an area that encompassed a good chunk of Minnesota and Wisconsin. My older three brothers served missions. And then there was me — a strong-willed punk who didn't respond well to the family's long ecclesiastical shadow.

At the end of my junior year in high school, my dad lost his battle with cancer. While my mom did her best to raise those of us living at home, I used tragedy as an excuse to leap further off a spiritual cliff. My spiral turned into a self-centered crusade for attention, and I treated everyone like garbage — with very few exceptions.

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