The trek into the office is a necessary evil for many employees; unpaid time that could be spent elsewhere. But some state employees are able to cash in on their commutes.

That includes one member of Gov. Spencer Cox’s cabinet who heads the Utah Department of Cultural & Community Engagement. The department oversees a number of civic and social programs ranging from museums, libraries and the state historical society, to volunteerism efforts and multicultural affairs. 

The employee’s in-state travel expenses made up a large chunk of the department’s employee reimbursements in recent years, according to documents obtained by The Utah Investigative Journalism Project obtained through a public records request. 

The UIJP reviewed spreadsheets detailing the reimbursed expenses of the department’s 17-person leadership team over the 2024 and 2025 fiscal years. 

The analysis showed one employee, Executive Director Donna Law, accounted for nearly a third of the team’s reimbursements in 2024 and 43% in 2025. Law, who lives in Cedar City, spent more than 11 times the average amount spent by all other employees included in the analysis. 

The majority of Law’s expenses were categorized as in-state travel, which includes mileage and lodging. Between the two years, she spent $21,607.94 on lodging, $10,135.42  on auto mileage, and $1,455.00 in miscellaneous travel expenses and meals for a total of over $33,000. 

The next highest amount spent on in-state travel was $3,385. Law’s overall spending far exceeded any other employee.

The nearly $36,000 Law spent on travel and other items wasnearly three times that spent by the employee with the second highest amount in reimbursements. His expenses, in contrast, were largely out-of-state travel.

In 2012, Jabari Parker, a top high school prospect and member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, was facing his biggest decision to that point in his life: where to play college basketball. 

Fans of BYU athletics hoped and perhaps prayed that Parker would pick the school owned by the church he was raised in. BYU was listed as one of his final choices. But he ultimately chose to spend his college years at Duke before attempting a career in the NBA. BYU fans were disappointed, but no one was truly surprised. Duke over BYU was the best choice for a young prospect in 2012. 

A.J. Dybantsa.

What changed between 2012 and 2024 when A.J. Dybantsa, the number one high school prospect, chose BYU over every other school? The answer is roughly $7 million dollars. That is what Dybantsa is reportedly making to play basketball at BYU. 

The deal was supported by Utah Jazz owner Ryan Smith, who met multiple times with the Dybantsa family in multiple attempts to bring the young player to Provo. 

According to Smith, he had no financial role in bringing Dybantsa to BYU, but the influence of Utah’s most famous billionaire acting as a “booster” or unofficial recruiter certainly swayed the decision.

Prior to 2021, boosters acting as recruiters was taboo to the NCAA governing body. It was called improper recruiting. But in 2021, California began the modern era of NIL, or the ability of a college athlete to benefit from their name, image, or likeness, when they passed the “Fair Pay to Play Act.” 

This new law gave college athletes in California the ability to benefit from their NIL, something that was banned in the rest of the country to that point. The NCAA saw that this law would create an unfair advantage for California schools that could now give young athletes the chance to make money off their talent and image while still in college. 

The NCAA knew they needed to do something quickly, so they rushed through a policy that opened up NIL to all college athletes in the country, and it has been expanding and evolving over the last four years. 

Grant Duff, who has coached at the University of Utah, Weber State University, and is now the defensive coordinator for Idaho State University, says, “The best part of NIL is that athletes have an opportunity to make good money. The downside comes with the free-for-all that money causes.”

Dybantsa confers with BYU Head coach, Kevin Young.

One of the biggest current examples of what a school can do when the boosters are willing to pay for success is Texas Tech University. From 2020-2024, Texas Tech had 34 wins, which works out to 6.8 wins per year with a low of 4 wins and high of 8. Then Texas Tech’s boosters got involved, led by Cody Campbell, an oil industry businessman and Chairman of the Texas Tech board. The football program was given 28 million dollars for NIL with a simple message attached to the large pile of money: Win. And win now. And win they did. 

By signing NIL deals with athletes in the transfer portal, Texas Tech went from a middle-of-the-pack school in their conference to one of the top 12 teams in the country. They didn’t just win games in 2025, they made many of their opponents look like they didn’t belong on the same field, including the University of Utah and BYU twice. That is what money can buy.

A year ago, we here at Utah Stories recorded a podcast episode that we never published. We were revisiting corruption allegations from ten years ago. We decided not to publish the video, so it sat there on YouTube for nearly 12 months.

Then somehow the video was published. How? We are not sure, but once it got out there, the comments came pouring in.

Dozens of viewers, then hundreds, supported the video with their comments on our examination of allegations of police misconduct in Cottonwood Heights. The video recounts how the Police Department was reported by business owners as focusing enforcement on customers of the former Canyon Inn bar. These allegations did not result in a publicly documented, full investigation by Utah’s Justice Department nor the FBI (at least to our knowledge). So why rehash the past?

We believe the story of The Canyon Inn (and other area business owners) vs. CHPD and Cottonwood Heights Mayor Kelvin Cullimore raises questions about what can happen when allegations surface and do not move forward through a formal legal process with state or federal oversight.

In 2012, Cottonwood Heights business owners at the mouth of the canyons began publicly objecting to police activity whereby up to seven cruisers were pulling over 711 and Canyon Inn bar customers on their busiest evenings.

According to those accounts, drivers leaving the bar were frequently pulled over by police and were given DUI tickets, sometimes even after passing a sobriety examination. The volume and concentration of those stops led residents and business owners to complain about the “heavy-handed treatment” of CHPD toward motorists, especially in and around the Canyon Inn and neighboring 711, and eventually the Porcupine Pub.

Customers responded in predictable ways. Some chose not to return and avoid the area. Others went to different establishments. Over time, the owner of the Canyon Inn, Jim Stojack, stated that his revenue declined by 70% and that he believed police activity near his business was the main contributing factor.

Utah Stories reported on these concerns by conducting interviews; gathering video documentation provided by those involved; and making public records requests. Through our GRAMA requests, we reviewed DUI citations issued by the Cottonwood Heights Police Department and examined how those cases were resolved in Holladay Justice Court. During that period, we observed a higher number based on our review of DUI cases dismissed in court due to lack of evidence compared to other jurisdictions. One DUI attorney, Tyler Ayers, went on record saying that CHPD was issuing a high volume of DUI citations that were later dismissed.

That observation raised questions about how cases were being documented and prosecuted. It did not, on its own, establish intent or misconduct, but it became part of a broader set of concerns raised by multiple sources.

On an ordinary October morning in 1985, downtown Salt Lake City was shattered by a blast that killed businessman and document collector Steve Christensen. Hours later, a second bomb tore through a quiet Holladay neighborhood, killing Kathy Sheets, the wife of Christensen’s former business partner. The next day saw a third explosion. This one was in a car near Temple Square that nearly killed rare-documents dealer Mark Hofmann. 

Rumors swirled instantly, tying the attacks to money, religion, and shadowy early-Mormon documents Christensen had recently acquired. For days, Utah held its breath. What unfolded was stranger and darker than fiction. The bombs weren’t the work of religious extremists or enemies of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but instead, the doings of Mark Hofmann himself. Hofmann was a nerdy, soft-spoken dealer who had secretly become one of the most skilled document forgers in American history. 

His creations were so convincing that they reshaped historical narratives, fooling scholars, collectors, and church leaders. When the lies began to close in, the bombs became his final, desperate attempt to keep his world from collapsing.

Hofmann had been fabricating Mormon and American historical documents for years. He was a prodigy of deception, sourcing period paper, mixing inks that cracked just right, and mimicking handwriting with obsessive precision. Most of all, he knew how to read people. Utah in the 1970s and ’80s was a collector’s paradise. As bookseller Ken Sanders told Salt Lake Magazine, it was “a consciousness shift,” a recognition that rare Utah history was a treasure worth pursuing. It was also, he notes, fertile ground for affinity fraud.

Nothing captured that vulnerability more than the Salamander Letter, a supposed 1830s correspondence which claimed Joseph Smith encountered a magical white salamander rather than an angel. The document shook Latter-day Saint circles. Church leaders, worried about its implications, quietly purchased it along with other materials Hofmann dangled before them. Many reasoned that if the church was willing to buy it, then it must be authentic and true, and Hofmann understood that psychology perfectly.