OGDEN, Utah — Walking into the Water Tower Branch’s meetinghouse in Ogden, Utah, visitors are welcomed by the smell of cigarette smoke and by tattooed individuals with arms open wide.
Elder Gary B. Sabin, while serving as a General Authority Seventy, said in October 2023 general conference, “I actually love the smell of tobacco in church because it indicates someone is trying to change. They need our welcoming arms around them.”
The Water Tower Branch is a congregation of men trying to change. It’s one of the Church’s correctional branches — a congregation composed largely of incarcerated or formerly incarcerated individuals.
After a brief hiatus from the building for needed renovations, the branch returned on Aug. 1 to a pristine, like-new, red-brick building the individuals who attend the branch have called home for more than 20 years.
Meet President and Sister Adams
“They call me ‘grandma’ or ‘mom,’” said Diane Adams with a smile. “They’re hungry for that love and acceptance. They never get it anyplace else but here.”
Adams’ husband, President Charles Adams, leads the Water Tower Branch in Ogden.
“They come here for hope,” Sister Adams explained. “They come because they know it’s a safe place for them to be.”
For many, this congregation is more than a collection of people — it is family. “We’ve had up to 90 people and more than that come,” Sister Adams said, adding: “Their parents, their children, their grandparents, they have no one except us.”
President Adams described the branch as “a non-judgmental zone” where those who have “been in bad shape, or they’ve been to prison, or they’ve done stupid things” can worship without fear of being defined by their past.
Personal revelation on the way to the branch
When President Adams first received the assignment to serve on the stake high council and work with the Water Tower Branch, his initial thought was, “What did I do wrong? I’m going to jail?” But as he drove to his first meeting, a personal revelation struck him.
“We had a son who made some poor choices and he got to spend some time at the Washington County Jail. And as I was driving [to the branch], it dawned on me — I wanted to be a friend to these people like I hoped somebody was for my son,” he said. “From that moment, it’s been wonderful.”
Over time, he began attending every Sunday, later teaching Sunday School once a month, until he was called as branch president in 2020.
A spark of hope
One of the first things President Adams did was to help branch members regain dignity and independence. For example, they taught those attending the branch how to pray, study and even teach.
The branch presidency and volunteers also helped members obtain white shirts, ties and suits. “That changed their whole vision of themselves,” he said, emphasizing how small acts of dignity can open the door for spiritual change.
“When they get out of prison, in most cases hope is gone,” President Adams said. But that changes when they worship in a congregation where couples model “how regular people interact, how husbands treat wives, how people treat women in general.”
“Once they get that little bit of spark of hope in them, then they can start working on the other things,” he said, adding: “It’s baby steps on the covenant path.”
Some succeed quickly; others stumble. “We get broken-hearted when they violate their parole and get sent back to prison,” he admitted. “But we just give them a big hug and say, ‘Come on, let’s just go for this. Try it again.’”
Lifelong changes and giving back
President Adams told of one man who spent 19 years in prison and “didn’t know how to read” until “someone gave him the Book of Mormon — that’s how he learned to read.” Today, he’s a man of faith who attends regularly.
He said that some even say that prison “was the best thing that ever happened to them” because it led them to better habits and even the gospel.
Sister Adams said that she’s convinced of the Lord’s love for them “because they’re trying so hard to be what they need to be.”
Every Wednesday night, volunteers prepare a warm meal for those attending the branch. They then tie quilts, crochet blankets, sing in a choir or do family history. “We’ve probably donated a thousand blankets in the last five years,” Sister Adams said, noting they go to halfway houses, homeless shelters and even back to the state prison for new inmates.
“You just live for Wednesdays and Sundays,” she said. “You can’t wait to get there and see those guys and hug them.”
A building with a history of inclusion
The Water Tower Branch meets in a historic 1917 red-brick chapel — the first Latter-day Saint meetinghouse built specifically for accessibility. “Every person in the Church who is deaf or hard of hearing has a connection to this place,” said Church historic sites curator Emily Utt.
Today, the same building serves another marginalized group. “Instead of asking [the Water Tower] branch to meet in a borrowed space, … you are in one of the most significant and beautiful places,” Utt said. “It centers their experience in Christ’s ministry.”
Elder Jason C. Jensen, an Area Seventy, put it simply: “This building is much more than a building. It’s a sanctuary.”
‘One of the most rewarding things I’ve ever done’
Richard Smith, the branch’s first president in 2001, recalled starting with just six people meeting in a hallway at a halfway house. “Joseph Smith started with six,” he used to tell his counselors. “So we’re on the right track.”
Richard Smith has continued to teach in the branch for more than 20 years. “It’s been one of the most rewarding things I’ve ever done in my life,” he said. “You come to one of these meetings with these brethren in the halfway house, and that Spirit is just as powerful right here as it has been there in the temple. That proves to me that God loves each brother just as much as he loves anybody.”
He remembers an inmate who crocheted over 1,100 baby hats and blankets for those in need. When asked why, the man said, “I’ve got to give back for the things I’ve taken from other people.”
Former branch president Ray Morin, who served from 2013 to 2020, said when the branch opened its doors from just those at the halfway house to other men restricted from attending family wards, the attendance jumped from 12 to as many as 70.
“You have kind of a false opinion of these men if you’re not involved with them,” he said. “But when I started serving them, I learned to love them and to serve them the best I could.”
He added that part of their responsibility is to help with the transition to self-reliance.
“That’s really what we’re here for, is to help them transition into society. And learn how to provide for themselves,” he said.
Christ’s Atonement shines on all
As part of their calling, the branch presidency works with individuals to be re-baptized and to eventually request First Presidency approval and receive their priesthood and temple blessings through the ordinance of restoration of blessings (see General Handbook: 32.17). So far, President Adams has helped one be baptized who they hope to have return to the temple this fall. They are currently in the process of working with six other men to soon request First Presidency approval for re-admittance.
Then-Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught in April 2012 general conference: “However late you think you are, however many chances you think you have missed, however many mistakes you feel you have made or talents you think you don’t have, or however far from home and family and God you feel you have traveled, I testify that you have not traveled beyond the reach of divine love. It is not possible for you to sink lower than the infinite light of Christ’s Atonement shines.”
For President Adams, his wife and the many volunteers, the branch is a living example of the light that only the Atonement of Jesus Christ can give. The Water Tower Branch, President Adams says, is where the proverbial gospel tires hit the road — it’s where he has gotten to know the Savior.
“I’ve been a member of the Church my entire life,” President Adams said, adding: “But I never really understood how the Atonement works and how it changes lives until I got here. It changes everyone’s life. It’s not just the inmates. If you came and participated in our service for one month or two weeks, your life would be changed by being here because you can see how that works.”
Sister Adams agreed: “My life has gotten better and grown more spiritually recognizing the Atonement than anything else I do.”
Each Sunday, in the same pews where Deaf Saints once found community, men who thought they might never be welcome in church again now sing hymns and bear powerful testimonies. “The Spirit is so strong,” Sister Adams said. “People leave and beg us to let them come back. They say that the Spirit is so strong here they’ve never felt any place except for the temple.”