Tribute To My Father
Melvin Thomas Evans, of Pleasant Grove, returned to his loving Heavenly Father on Thursday, January 27, 2005, after a long battle with Parkinson's disease. Melvin was born November 25, 1921, to Mary Ann Hadden and Edwin Charles Evans in Kirtland, New Mexico. He married Beverly Lucille Morley on April 27, 1949, in the Salt Lake Temple. Melvin grew up in New Mexico and Colorado. He joined the U.S. Navy during WWII and was stationed at Pearl Harbor when it was attacked. He served for six years in the Pacific Theater as a submariner and spent some time in the Philippines. He then served in the United States Army for fourteen years. After retiring, Melvin went on to serve in the Civil Service for twenty years; and, subsequently retired. Melvin was a faithful member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He served as Bishop, High Priest Group Leader, and a teacher. Melvin loved his family and many friends, whom he touched in different ways. He was loved by everyone he met and helped many throughout his life. He will be sorely missed, but we know he is in a better place. Melvin is survived by his wife, Beverly; and three sons and a daughter: Jack (Annabelle) Evans, Draper; Ronald (Carol) Evans, Florida; Anne White, Wyoming; and Jason Evans, Pleasant Grove; two sisters: Arlene Meadows, Colorado; Jean (Jack) Matthews, New Mexico; 13 grandchildren, and over 21 great grandchildren; numerous nieces, nephews, and many extended family members. He was preceded in death by a son, Shawn Charles; his parents; two sisters: Vira Derrick, Dorothy Schutte; and one brother, Wilford Evans. We appreciate all the thoughts and prayers that have been extended in his behalf. In lieu of flowers, the family requests that donations be made in Melvin's name to the Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson's Research. Graveside services will be held Wednesday, February 2, 2005, at Noon, at the Pleasant Grove City Cemetery. Friends may call from 10-11:30 a.m. at the Olpin Family Mortuary, 494 South 300 East, Pleasant Grove.
God looked around his garden and found an empty place.
He then looked down upon His earth and saw your loving face.
He put His arms around you and lifted you to rest.
His Garden must be beautiful, He always takes the best.
He knew that you were suffering, He knew you were in pain.
And knew that you would never get well on earth again.
He saw your path was difficult, He closed your tired eyes,
He whispered to you "Peace be Thine" and gave you wings to fly.
When we saw you sleeping so calm and free of pain,
We would not wish you back to earth to suffer once again.
You've left us precious memories, your love will be our guide,
You live on through your children, you're always by our side.
It broke our hearts to lose you, but you did not go alone.
For part of us went with you on the day God called you home.
He then looked down upon His earth and saw your loving face.
He put His arms around you and lifted you to rest.
His Garden must be beautiful, He always takes the best.
He knew that you were suffering, He knew you were in pain.
And knew that you would never get well on earth again.
He saw your path was difficult, He closed your tired eyes,
He whispered to you "Peace be Thine" and gave you wings to fly.
When we saw you sleeping so calm and free of pain,
We would not wish you back to earth to suffer once again.
You've left us precious memories, your love will be our guide,
You live on through your children, you're always by our side.
It broke our hearts to lose you, but you did not go alone.
For part of us went with you on the day God called you home.
Tribute To Fathers by Paul Harvey
A father is a thing that is forced to endure childbirth without an anesthetic.
A father is a thing that growls when it feels good-- and laughs very loud when it's scared half to death.
A father is sometimes accused of giving too much time to his business when the little one's growing up.
That's partly fear too.
Fathers are much more easily frightened than mothers.
A father never feels entirely worthy of the worship in a child's eyes.
He's never quite the hem his daughter thinks, never quite the man his son believes him to be, and this worries him, sometimes.
So he works too hard trying to smooth the rough places in the road for those of his own who will follow him.
A father is a thing that gets very angry when the first school grades aren't as good as he thinks they should be.
He scolds his son, though he knows it's the teacher's fault.
A father is a thing that goes away to war, sometimes.
He learns to swear and shoot and spit though his teeth, and he'd run the other way except that this war is party of his only important job in life-- which is to make the world better for his child than it's been for him.
Fathers grow old faster than people.
Because they, in other ways, have to stand at the train station and wave goodbye to the uniform that climbs aboard.
Mothers can cry where it shows.
Fathers have to stand there and beam outside-- and die inside.
Fathers have very stout hearts, so they have to be broken sometimes or no one would know what's inside.
Fathers give daughters away to other men who aren't nearly good enough so they can have grandchildren that are smarter than anybody's.
Fathers fight dragons-- almost daily. They hurry away from the breakfast table, off to the arena sometimes called an office or a workshop. There with calloused, practiced hands, they tackle the dragon with three heads: weariness, work and monotony.
They never quite win the fight, but they never give up.
Knights in shining armor or fathers in shiny trousers, there's little difference as they march away to each workday.
Fathers make bets with insurance companies about who'll live the longest. They know the odds, but they keep right on betting.
Even as the odds get higher and higher, they keep right on betting, more and more.
And one day they lose.
But fathers enjoy an earthly immortality; and the bet's paid off to the part of him he leaves behind.
I don't know where fathers go when they die.
But I've an idea that, after a good rest, wherever it is he won't be happy unless there's work to do.
He won't just sit on a cloud and wait for the girl he's loved and the children she bore.
He'll be busy there, too, repairing the stairs, oiling the gates, improving the streets, smoothing the way.
Syd Riggs
SYD RIGGS
Drama Instructor at Orem High School, Director, Actress
She will be sorely missed!
Sally Hale Rice
SALLY HALE RICE
A remarkable woman who's spirit, friendliness, warmth and love of the arts and people will sorely be missed!
Barbara Adams
Barbara Adams
Article KSL Report
Barbara was a wonderful woman who I was honored to have known in my life. She was a great influence on me when I attended Southern Utah University and along with her husband, Fred, are responsible for my getting involved with theater as a professional and I will always be grateful to their influence, inspiration and guidance in my life. Goodnight Barbara, may sweet angels sing thee to thy rest! I will always hold you in my heart with great love!
TRIBUTE TO BARBARA AT THE UTAH SHAKESPEAREAN
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