Many said the closing of the auction - known as the largest horse market in the state - marks the end of an era.

But they also recognized it as the sad but inevitable consequence of urban development and progress.

"It's like a funeral or a family reunion here, one or the other," said Andy Goudy, a school custodian who spends his Saturdays herding horses, cattle, sheep, pigs and goats in and out of the auction barn.

Goudy recalled a roadside sign that once proclaimed Spanish Fork as "Utah's Agricultural Center." He called urban sprawl "a sad and scary situation," but added: "People need a place to live."

Brent Kelly and his brother Ed Kelly bought the auction in 1979 from Neil Scott, who started it in 1955.

Brent Kelly, 59, said annexation of the auction property by Spanish Fork City and an encroaching industrial park were factors that prompted him to sell his 5 1/2 acres to a developer.

Kelly also cited a recent law forbidding the slaughter of horses for meat, the decline of small farmers and ranchers, and the rise of Internet auction sites.

But horse trader Berdell Olsen, of Spanish Fork, scoffed at the notion of buying livestock over the Internet.

"I wouldn't buy anything without seeing it," he said.

Olsen's response to closure of the Utah Livestock Auction will be to sell from home. "Everybody knows me," he said.

Others said they will patronize Utah's six remaining livestock auctions in Cedar City, Ogden, Salina, Smithfield, Richfield and Roosevelt. But for some, that will mean driving farther and spending more on gas.

Dayle Johnson, of Ely, Nev., said rising gas prices had forced him to cut back on the frequency of his trips to the Spanish Fork auction, where on Saturday he was selling "a riding horse" and looking to buy "a kid's horse." A retired schoolteacher, Johnson said he buys and sells animals as a hobby.

But he said the auction is also "a fun place to come. There's lots of good people. It's a good place to spend a Saturday."

Helen Carter, of Nephi, echoed that sentiment. She and her husband, Karl Carter, occasionally buy tack or a horse at the auction. But mostly, she said, "This is our entertainment for 40 years."

In honor of the Carters' loyalty, the Kellys promised them as souvenirs the front-row seats they have habitually occupied.

The Kellys estimated about 500 animals cross the weighing scales weekly, while an equal number of people attend the auction, which traditionally closes only two weekends a year, Christmas and the opening day of the deer hunt.

This Saturday, an estimated 800 people were on hand.

Looking back on the past three decades, co-owner Mary Kelly choked up as she said: "I won't miss the headaches and the problems. But I'll miss the people."

Jason Kelly, now a 31-year-old lumberyard manager, said running the business always has been a family affair.

As a youngster, he carried purchase tickets from the auction ring to the office and later moved animals in and out of the holding pens. His brothers worked as auctioneers - and that meant the Kelly children were working Saturdays rather than watching cartoons or playing with friends.

"But it's a good way to raise kids, to keep them out of trouble," Jason Kelly said. "It's just a way of life."

shunt@sltrib.com