Mayor’s Message, December 2025

Lyle Holmgren

As we approach the end of the year, I find myself reflecting on the remarkable journey we’ve taken together. Serving this community has been one of the greatest honors of my life, and it has taught me more about unity, resilience, and hope than I ever imagined. Tremonton is a community strengthened not by circumstance, but by the character of its people.

Many of the insights I shared in these monthly messages originated from something my father told me when I was young:

During the summer of my fifteenth year, my dad hired me to work on his farm. I felt proud—proud to be trusted, proud to earn a little money, proud to be doing something meaningful. I bucked bales of hay, weeded the summer fallow in Blue Creek and Hansel Valley, hoed sugar beets, and irrigated crops. Hard work, but I loved it.

Dad was a rare combination of ordinary and extraordinary. One day, he asked me to mow the lawn. After finishing, I dutifully wrote down my hours in the little notebook he had given me. When payday came, Dad scratched out the hours I spent mowing the lawn. Confused, I asked why?

He looked at me calmly and said,

“Lyle, you can’t expect to be paid for everything. Sometimes you do something just to make things better.”

It was a simple moment. A small correction. But it has stayed with me my entire life.

“Sometimes you do something just to make things better.”

He didn’t say it as advice — he spoke it as a truth, the kind you only realize after a lifetime of working, serving, and observing how people treat each other. Those words have stayed with me into leadership, especially during the hardest moments to navigate. And I’ll be honest: some of those tough moments weren’t just due to the daily pressures of public service, but also because of tragedies, disappointments, and the deeply human challenges many communities face.

Leadership has a way of placing those moments at your doorstep — unexpected losses that shake a town, painful situations with no easy answers, and decisions that weigh heavily because they affect real people with real lives. And woven through all of that is the added strain of social media.

Never in human history has communication been so fast, so constant, and so fragmented. A rumor can outrun the truth in minutes. A simple policy conversation can spiral into outrage overnight. Neighbors who would speak respectfully in person sometimes speak harshly online, shielded by distance, anonymity, and emotion. Social media can make a community feel divided, even when, beneath the surface, we share more common ground than we realize.

Yet even in the most challenging moments, I always return to my father’s words.

– Sometimes, that means continuing to communicate — even when misunderstood

– Sometimes, it means listening — even when criticized.

– Sometimes, it simply means showing up — even when it’s hard.

Healing as a Community

Becoming an even stronger community is not a single act or a single moment — it is a practice. And like any meaningful practice, it requires patience, humility, and intention. Our progress doesn’t come from fixing something broken; it comes from continually nurturing what is already good and working together to make it even better.

The health of a community isn’t measured by whether we disagree. Disagreement can be healthy; it means people care. But disagreement without compassion becomes division, and division without dialogue becomes resentment, and resentment without resolution becomes disconnection.

To grow even stronger as a community, we can start with something deceptively simple: assuming good intentions. Most people who raise concerns do so because they care deeply about their hometown. When we begin from that belief, our conversations change.

Growing stronger also requires showing up in person. Online conversations may be convenient, but real understanding happens face-to-face. I’ve seen years of misunderstanding dissolve within minutes when two people sit across from one another and realize they have more in common than they ever imagined.

Another essential step is learning to pause before reacting. Social media pushes us toward instant responses, but communities thrive when we respond thoughtfully. Taking a moment to breathe, gather information, and consider another perspective isn’t weakness — it’s leadership.

And finally, sustaining our community’s well-being requires a commitment to shared purpose. We may disagree on how to get there, but most of us want the same destination: a safe, unified, thriving community where people feel heard, valued, and connected. When we focus on shared purpose instead of personal victory, collaboration becomes easier, and progress becomes natural.

In the end, well-being comes down to countless small choices — choosing generosity over suspicion, curiosity over assumptions, participation over cynicism, and forgiveness over old grievances.

It comes down to choosing, again and again, to make things better.

Before I close, I want to express my heartfelt appreciation for Tremonton’s devoted employees. Their dedication often goes unseen precisely because they do their work so exceptionally well that we’ve come to expect things to simply work — and they do. From public safety to public works, from our city offices to the library, senior center, and food pantry, from Parks and Recreation to the many volunteers who serve because they believe in Tremonton — each plays a vital role in the well-being of our community. Their professionalism, compassion, and consistency keep Tremonton running smoothly every single day. We are truly fortunate to have such capable and caring individuals serving our city.

As we close out the year, and as I prepare to step away from this office, I do so with profound optimism. Tremonton’s future is bright—not because of any single leader, but because of the shared spirit, determination, and kindness that define this community. My hope is that these reflections spark more conversations, more understanding, and more compassion, and that step by step, we continue building a community where unity grows, differences are bridged, and hope remains our guiding force.

May we move into the years ahead with open hearts, steady hands, and a shared commitment to continuing the good work that has brought us this far. And as my father reminded me, there are times when we do something “just to make things better.” May that simple truth guide us forward, inspiring us to serve one another with generosity, patience, and purpose. Tremonton’s future can be bright — because its future is ours.