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Feature Summer 2018 Winter 2013 Winter 2014
On a warm May evening in 1995, Christian Brinton and his high-school soccer teammates gathered for a half-time pep talk during the quarterfinals of the state tournament. Their team was losing, and their coach was not happy about it. Through the course of the half-time speech, their coach quickly escalated from being unhappy to outraged, punctuating his profanity-laced verbal assault by smashing his clipboard on the ground.
How to create a safe, productive work environment for those dealing with mental health conditions.
For Dalton Adams, the dinner hour was shaping up like every other night at In-N-Out Burger. The line of cars stretched from the drive-thru window and wound across the parking lot. Adams was serving hungry customers at the payment window, the usual routine—until the guy in the red car pulled up.
I'm honored to be here at the BYU Marriott School of Business. This is a great school named after a great family. Dick Marriott is a good friend, and he is truly an inspiration.
It’s been twenty-five years  since BYU’s School of Management was rechristened in honor of J. Willard and Alice S.  Marriott. To celebrate the silver anniversary, seven couples recount how their time in the Tanner Building paid the ultimate dividend: a life of wedded bliss.
It’s striking that even in 2013 more than one billion people around the world live in conditions with no access to electricity. That means they have no heat for their homes and nothing to cook their food on. They do not have the ability to clean their water or to refrigerate medicines. They don’t have hospitals.
When advertisers think right, they’re right on.
I was very fortunate to attend Brigham Young University. I graduated with a master’s degree in accounting, and I’m not sure I was really aware at the time of what a great education I had received. When I entered BYU I wanted to play football, but once I began taking accounting and business classes at the Marriott School, I realized I had much better prospects in accounting. 
Throughout my life I’ve spent countless summer weekends at my parents’ cabin in the Uinta Mountains, where in the early days there was no electricity or indoor plumbing and almost every evening was spent playing games around the kitchen table until the generator would run out of gas.
Cameras flashed as reporters jostled for position. This was the biggest story of the year: Kenneth Lay was surrendering to the FBI. Slapped with a slew of charges alleging he falsified statements to hide billions in losses, Lay’s arrest marked the end of Enron’s empire.
Last August I was at a landfill site in So Paulo, Brazil. It had been a dump where people sorted through garbage looking for valuable items so they could put food on their tables.