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Feature Fall 2008 Winter 2014
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. 
With the costs of college increasing faster than other goods and services in the economy, it isn’t any wonder that studies show parents are more concerned about saving for their children’s college expenses than for their own retirements. But armed with information and good planning, there’s no need for parents to panic.
When three women picked up their lunch bill of about $44 at a local Houston restaurant, they had no idea it would end up costing them more than $2,500. These women have since accused a waitress of stealing their credit card numbers and going on a spending spree—buying a computer desk, a forty-two-inch LCD TV, and video games with the stolen numbers.
As BYU students returned to campus on 2 September, they had the chance to catch up on one another’s adventures, compare summer jobs, and explore the classrooms and corridors of the newly completed Tanner Building Addition.
Every member of the working world seems to have a horror story about an interview gone wrong, where the interviewer performed in a less-than-sterling manner. Maybe it was a clueless interviewer who didn’t bother to read your résumé or an overbearing windbag who didn’t let you get a word in edgewise. Then there’s the oblivious interviewer who doesn’t remember your name or the baggy-eyed boss who can’t stifle a yawn while asking about you. In more serious cases, perhaps the interviewer strays off into either unethical or illegal territory.
In 1988 I was with my brothers and sisters when the conversation drifted to our father, who had passed away many years earlier. We shared our memories of Dad: his ways of doing things, his favorite sayings, our fishing trips where all he did was bait hooks, and so forth.