The Jordan River Temple was the temple of my youth and geographically closest to my home, therefore designated as my temple. A poster of this temple hung on my wall all throughout my childhood.

It’s the first temple I entered. At age twelve I started doing baptisms for the dead (Mormons believe in vicariously performing the act of baptism by submersion for deceased folks in hope that they will accept the gospel in the afterlife). As a twelve year-old I would walk through the temple doors, down the stairwell into the basement, and up to a counter where my temple recommend was checked. Then through a door and to another counter where I was given a set of white baptismal clothes to wear - a cap-sleeved onesie that served as underwear, a zipper-front jumpsuit, socks, and a hair scrunchie. I would take my clothing into the locker room, change, and take my place in a chapel of sorts that looked through glass over the ornate baptismal font. Quiet organ music would play as we waited our turn to enter the baptistry. When it was my turn, I’d walk into the baptistry, down the font stairs, and into the arms of a (usually unknown) man. He would help me into the correct position at the center of the font with my right hand plugging my nose and my left hand gripping his arm. He’d then issue a short prayer and dunk me in rapid succession about eight times for eight different dead people.

Sister Labrum, having been commissioned of Jesus Christ, I baptize you for and in behalf of _________, who is dead, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen. [The officiator then immerses the proxy completely underwater.]

I’d climb out of the font dripping with chlorine as nearby teenage boys watched and waited for their turn. A female temple worker would usually be ready with a towel and would motion me toward the showers. In the shower room I would shiver as I waited my turn, then strip of the cold wet clothes, take a quick warm shower, then don what was called a “shield” (basically a circle of white cloth with a hole for the head) into the locker room where I changed back into my clothes. Not once, but two different times, female temple workers walked in on me (on separate occasions) while I was naked and changing out of the wet clothing. Once in my clothes again, I’d head to the mirror to comb my hair and make myself presentable. As younger women, we’d often be reprimanded for talking too loudly while using hair dryers.

I’d make my way to a confirmation room—usually a small windowless room with several chairs—where I’d wait my turn for at least two men to place their hands on my head and again, in rapid succession, give me confirmation blessings for about eight people (not the same names as those I was baptized for.)

Sister Labrum, in the name of Jesus Christ, we lay our hands upon your head for and in behalf of _________, who is dead, and confirm you a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and say unto you: Receive the Holy Ghost. Amen.

The baptism was said to only be complete after the confirmation, and only valid when sealed by the Holy Spirit of Promise.

Mormon youth ages 12-17 are typically the proxies in baptisms and confirmations for the deceased, while those that have matured and made further temple covenants serve as proxies for endowments and sealings for the deceased.

The Jordan River Temple was dedicated by Marion G. Romney on November 16, 1981.

A photo taken at the Jordan River temple by my mom in 1981 featuring my dad and three oldest siblings.