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Posted: 8:40 PM- Step by step, with some behind-the-scenes moves and others in plain sight, there's a strong push to make the biggest change in Utah liquor laws in nearly 40 years.

Success or failure will depend on many things, most importantly on what signal is sent by leaders of the LDS Church, whose thumbs up or down is a determining factor in all things involving alcohol in Utah.

For precedent, one need only go back to January 1970, when LDS Church President David McKay summoned old friend Jack Gallivan to his bedside for what would be their last meeting.

As they reminisced, neither spoke directly of the bitter, divisive ballot initiative two years earlier that would have brought liquor by the drink to Utah. Gallivan, a devout Catholic and then publisher of The Salt Lake Tribune, had led the fight to liberalize Utah's liquor laws. McKay, as leader of a church that eschews alcohol, was the spiritual head of the opposition.

The measure failed resoundingly because of the church's influence. But today Gallivan, 92, jokes about "deja vu all over again" when he talks about the effort by Gov. Jon Huntsman Jr. and others to abolish a law that makes Utah the only state where people must join a private club and pay a fee before they can purchase a glass of wine or liquor. The movement is backed by hospitality and economic development interests.

In the late 1960s, Utah would not consider liquor by the drink. Instead, lawmakers established a private club system that has evolved to today's membership requirement, in which patrons must pay what amounts to a cover charge at each club for the right to buy a drink without a meal.

Huntsman and his allies contend that club fees pose an obstacle to attracting new companies to Utah and frustrate out-of-state visitors. Earlier this year, he also cited the law's impact on tourism when he proposed increasing the alcohol content in martinis and other single-drink beverages, which went into effect in May.

"The private clubs issue has been on the top of the list for requested changes by the bulk of the businesses in tourism for quite a while," said Nan Anderson of the Utah Tourism Industry Coalition. She is echoed by Judy Young of the Utah Technology Council, whose members say Utah liquor laws can be a barrier to recruiting talent or staging events.

Despite a fair amount of momentum, there is still a long way to go before the Legislature even considers a bill to do away with club memberships. To date, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has taken no official position, choosing to wait until it sees a concrete proposal.

Privately, supporters of the abolishment effort say they see no signal from the church as a good signal.

Legislative leaders say fees were discussed during the last session, but for lawmakers to be convinced to act they probably would need some sort of trade-off similar to the one they got on the martini proposal - in which Huntsman supported restricting the sale of flavored malt beverages to state-controlled outlets.

"Setting alcohol policy is something that must be done in phases," Huntsman in a recent interview.

The latest initiative has been a series of incremental steps.

Huntsman Chief of Staff Neil Ashdown said discussions on club fees began within the transition team shortly after his boss' election in 2004, when the governor and his staff got an earful from economic interests about the damage being done by Utah liquor laws.

Skip forward to June 2007, when several terms expired on the Utah Alcoholic Beverage Control Commission, which regulates liquor sales and licenses. Huntsman made three key appointments to the five-member board, one being lawyer Gordon Strachan, a member of his transition team.

Little noticed, given any governor's penchant for replacing board members on state agencies, Huntsman also named Sam Granato, who runs a food distributing and deli business. (Granato, a Mormon, does not serve alcohol, which freed him to be on board because he is not a licensee.)

The third appointee was Bobbie Coray, who has extensive experience in economic development. Subtly but quickly, the board was transformed, not least because it now has two social drinkers, Strachan and sitting member Mary Ann Mantes.

The appointments came at time when bar and restaurant owners were increasingly frustrated with what they said were the punitive tactics of the old board. Earlier this year, they enlisted the help of state Rep. Curtis Oda, R-Clearfield, to introduce a bill that would have stripped the DABC of its enforcement powers. Granato derailed that effort by promising Oda that the new board would be more cooperative with businesses.

Last month Coray made a surprising motion to directing DABC staff to research abolishing club fees, which cost $16 annually or more and about $4 for a temporary, three-week membership. Only veteran commissioner Kathryn Balmforth voted against the motion.

This month, public comment hearings may lead to such trade-offs as stepped-up law enforcement. State Senate President John Valentine has signaled that because he thinks club memberships serve as a deterrent to drunk driving and to alcohol getting into the hands of minors, he will want any legislation to address those issues.

In May, the Hospitality Association of private club owners may have forced Huntsman's hand when it filed a petition to collect signatures for a statewide initiative to do away membership fees, which many club owners say customers regard as a scam, or worse.

People of color, worried they are being discriminated against, often "simply turn around and walk out the door because we have no explanation for fees, other than it's the state law," said Rob Eddington, owner of Murphy's Bar & Grill in downtown Salt Lake City.

Huntsman countered the industry move by saying it would be more practical, and less divisive, to go the legislative route, although it might take more than one session of the Legislature to get it done.

The governor was only 8 when voters last went to the polls on a liquor measure - which ended up pitting Mormons against their non-Mormon neighbors.

The 1968 initiative called for liquor by the drink to be served at what amounted to public bars. At the time, drinkers were required to tote their own liquor bottles to beer halls, where bottles were stored in lockers. Detractors called that system "liquor by the drunk," but the proposed changes were too abrupt for LDS Church leaders.

"I urge members of the Church, and all citizens interested in safeguarding youth and avoiding the train of evils associated with alcohol, to take a stand against the proposal," President McKay said at the time.

The measure failed by a 2-to-1 margin. Former publisher Gallivan, for one, still chafes that nondrinkers who set alcohol policy in Utah, but he also understands the reality of Utah politics and cultural mores, which might be slowing changing as the population shifts away from an overwhelming Mormon majority.

Two LDS Church leaders who actively worked to kill the 1968 initiative have since died. General Authority James E. Faust, vice chairman of the group opposing the initiative, passed away last fall. And President Gordon B. Hinckley, McKay's adviser on the initiative, died in January.

Some Mormons can see when state liquor laws become unworkable, particularly after returning to Utah from living elsewhere, said Sen. Peter Knudson, R-Brigham City, who often sponsors liquor bills. Knudson served a two-year LDS mission to Denmark, then lived in Chicago, New York City and California.

"We've been nibbling at liquor laws one way or another over many years. It's had to be that way because we come from a state where controlling alcohol consumption is ingrained in our society."