The first time I heard from Jon Huntsman Sr. I was terrified. It was 2002 and my wife had just been diagnosed with stage 3.999-plus colon cancer.
Jon and I did not move in the same orbits. We weren’t even in the same social galaxies. All I knew about him was that he was Mormon, staggeringly rich, and had more offspring than Brigham Young.
Jon showed up when my wife’s condition became known publicly (because I wrote about it). By then, the recommendations for fighting the monster were swarming in.
According to some, my wife stood the best chance of becoming cancer-free if she would pet puppies — no, I am not making this up — hold crystals, meditate on her butt, pray to Osiris, and/or drink herbal concoctions that had the same appeal as elephant trunk drool.