The Rest of Dad's Story

One Sunday evening in October, 1967, we were enjoying Sunday dinner at our house with the Brinton's.  We often invited them over, or we ate at their house.  The phone rang in the middle of dinner.  It was for dad.  I can still remember the look of shock, dismay, and anxiety that crossed his face as he talked.  Old Main, the original main building of Mesa High School, was on fire.  Dad quickly excused himself and went down to the school to help.  As soon as we could the rest of us joined him.  It was a terrible sight.  Flames lept from the roof and windows of the stately old building, fire trucks and firemen surrounded the block, and onlookers crowded across the street, watching in horror as their school burned down.  I remember seeing dad once or twice through the crowd, his arms full, desperately trying to save what he could from his office and the main hall where all the trophies, class pictures, and other memorabilia were displayed.   That was a long evening.  Old Main was destroyed, and the sadness felt by the community was palpable.  I remember gossip spreading through the crowd at one point of the evening, speculation that someone from the new rival school across town might have  set the fire, but that was probably just my brother and his friends dramatizing a sad situation.  The final word was that faulty wiring in the old attic had caused the fire.

Dad was deeply involved in planning the new high school, serving on the planning and steering committees and frequently meeting with the architects, making many suggestions that were used.  The new high school was finished in 1972, and it was beautiful and very modern, but somehow it never had the the same feeling as Old Main.

Dad worked hard all of his life, whether at school and professionally, in Church, or at home.  He made our family his priority, and although we didn't have much in the way of worldly things we were rich with love, memories, and happiness.  After retiring dad devoted almost all of his time to our family and the church.  He and mom went on an 18 month mission to Germany; he built a double house so my kids and I could live next to him when I was a single mother; he spent much time and money going on trips with his children and their families, making memories that will never be forgotten; and in his later years he spent countless hours serving the Lord as Stake Patriarch, Temple Worker, and a Sealer in the Mesa, Arizona Temple, with mom always by his side. 

I could fill many posts with stories about dad's life, but since I am involved in most of them, I think I will go back to telling my memories now, and let the rest of dad's life story be told through my stories.  But one thing I want to state now, and always: I had the best father in the world, and I love him so much!