William Richard Stucki

21 Aug 1928 - 27 Feb 2008


William Richard Stucki

21 Aug 1928 - 27 Feb 2008
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Grave site information of William Richard Stucki (21 Aug 1928 - 27 Feb 2008) at Evergreen Cemetery in Springville, Utah, Utah, United States from BillionGraves
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Life Information

William Richard Stucki


Evergreen Cemetery

1876-1998 North 2000 West
Springville, Utah, Utah
United States


May 28, 2011


May 25, 2011

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William Richard Stucki Obituary

Contributor: doddemagen Created: 1 year ago Updated: 1 year ago

Former Castle Valley resident, William Richard Stucki died Wednesday February 27, 2008 , in Salt Lake City , Utah at the age of 79. Richard was born August 21, 1928 in Salt Lake City to William T. and Lucy Marie (Sorenson) Stucki. As a boy, he learned the value of work by accepting various jobs, including tending children, picking fruit in an orchard, repairing and polishing furniture, and making deliveries to various grocery stores and restaurants. These early jobs sparked an interest in developing these skills in later years. He served a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Nova Scotia , Canada , from 1947-1949 and graduated in 1951 from the University of Utah in Biology. He married Marjorie Curtis on July 30, 1951 , in the Salt Lake Temple . They reared a family of eight children. After spending many years in the retail clothing industry, Richard and Margie decided their family needed a change. They filled a truck with goats, chickens, a pig, and all their belongings and moved to Castle Valley at the foot of LaSal mountains. Richard and Margie fulfilled a life-long dream of living in the country and building a family farm. Though some thought this a rash decision, Richard and Margie always said this was the best decision they ever made for their family. Their farm and the experiences they shared there tied their family together in an unbreakable bond. They lived on the farm for 29 years planting, pruning, gardening, and raising various animals. Richard and Margie owned a restaurant and bakery in Moab well-known for its delicious and nutritious breads. He further developed his carpentry and wood-working skills, which helped him establish a bed & breakfast in Moab , Utah . And through many years, while in Castle Valley , Richard drove a school bus between Castle Valley and Moab . He and his wife served in the Monticello Temple where he worked as a sealer. Later, they filled another mission together for the Church in Winnsboro , Louisiana in 2001-2003. Following their mission, due to complications caused by cancer, they left their beloved home in the country and moved to the rural Springville , Utah in 2005. Richard continued gardening at his home with his wife Margie. He filled numerous Church positions throughout his life and found real joy in serving people. He often said that he tried to emulate the example of the Savior in word and deed and was dedicated to His cause. All who knew him were lifted by his radiant smile and friendship. Richard willingly faced many challenges. When recounting his numerous blessings, he wrote: "As sweet to me and powerful in my life as these things have been, nothing brought more peace, and hope, and joy than has come from discovering the marvelous qualities of the Savior and all the gracious, loving and merciful things He has done for me and my loved ones. I cannot in any way repay Him, or properly thank Him. But this I can do, and seek with all my heart to do, and that is stand as a witness of the goodness of the Father in giving us such a leader and friend as the Savior." He is survived by wife, Marjorie Stucki of Springville , Utah ; eight children, 38 grand children, 11 great-grand children; and sisters Margaret Christensen of Salt Lake City , Utah , and Barbara Anderson of Pleasant Grove , Utah . Richard was preceded in death by his parents and sister Bonnie Gudmundson of Bountiful , Utah . Funeral Services are Saturday, March 1 at 2pm Springville West Stake Center , 900 W Center Street in Springville , Utah . Thanks to the many people, groups, institutions, and in particular Jon M. Huntsman who have demonstrated concern by establishing a facility where those who are suffering from cancer receive kindness, respect, dignified treatment, and hope. The family has requested that in lieu of flowers, well-wishers donate to the Huntsman Cancer Foundation. Donations may be made online at http://www.huntsmancancerfoundation.org or by mail using the following form: http://www.huntsmancancerfoundation.org/pdfs/HCF_Form_Final.pdf

Snatched from harm

Contributor: doddemagen Created: 1 year ago Updated: 1 year ago

There was an experience I had with Mother when I was seventeen. It was when she was working and would go to the merchandise markets in California, Chicago, or New York. The first time I went with her was when I was still in high school. I was out of school, so she invited me to go with her. She made a reservation for us at the LaSalle Hotel in Chicago. A check was sent and she got back a confirmation. She always had to make reservations early because so many people attended the markets that the hotels would fill up. We flew to Chicago and drove to the hotel by taxi. We went to the front desk, Mother gave her name and told them we had a reservation and wanted to check in. They told us they couldn't find it. Mother told them, “That can’t be, because I sent my check and you sent me back a confirmation for a room with two beds.” They looked again but couldn't find her reservation. In all the years, that never happened to her before of after. This time it was lost. Mother felt like they just had to make a place for us. But they told us they were completely filled up and didn't have one room left. The sympathetic desk clerk told us she had a friend who owned some furnished apartments, and that she would probably have an empty one. She called her friend and made arrangements for us to stay there, so we did. In the middle of the night, we were awakened by lots of fire engines. They came across a bridge over a river and headed down the same street as we were on. We marveled at how many fire engines came one after the other. We wondered where the fire was. The next morning, the bold newspaper headlines told about how the LaSalle Hotel, where we were supposed to have stayed, had burned. Fifty-two people had died and two hundred were injured. This was one of quite a few times in my life, when the Lord spared me, and I am most grateful. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/La_Salle_Hotel When mother was in business with her first dress shop, she needed some stock room shelves. She bought me a saw and asked if I would come help her. I went out and helped her put the shelves up. I still have that saw and it’s my favorite one. I've had it all these years. I always think of my mother and our experiences together when I use that saw. My respect for Mother grew as I got older and appreciated all she did for people, and her gentle, kind and loving nature. One of the last years of her life was spent with Margie and me in Castle Valley. In all of the time that she was there, I can’t remember once when she complained. Sometimes, I’d cook dinner (I’m not very good at that), but it didn't matter how poor it was or how late it came, she never had a word of complaint. I was busy working and wasn't home all of the time. But, when I came home, I found if I spent 20 minutes or so with her, talking about my day and other things, she loved to sit there and listen. I enjoyed being able to talk to her and express myself without lectures or comments, just listening. I learned a lesson about being a good listener from her example.

Hope restored

Contributor: doddemagen Created: 1 year ago Updated: 1 year ago

Our Moab seminary teacher and his wife spoke in the Castle Valley branch some time ago. Her talk was on a matter I have long been concerned about. The problem comes into perspective at a sacrament meeting: Adults as well as children give tender loving praise for bishops, teachers, neighbors, and the prophet etc. But too few feel and express it for the Savior. We are not achieving our most important goal until we have established in the hearts of our children and the saints, an even greater love for Him. Friends may betray us, spouses may leave us, health may fail, and our possessions burn up. But Christ, His promises, understanding, and love will never fail us. With some trials and most tragedies, only this can get us through. When we can take a thankless, demanding calling; give up something we wanted greatly, so we can pay our tithing; or help out someone who has badly hurt us ... and say "I wouldn't do that for anyone, except I'll do it for Christ!" ... then the power for good He can have in our lives is becoming a reality. He must be the foundation of our lives. I think about the great sacrifices my parents and forebears made for me, and the great example they set of complete faithfulness to the Savior and His teachings in their lives. Now it's my turn. I would surely feel amiss to pass on to my posterity something less. As sweet to me and powerful in my life as the numerous blessings I have received, nothing has brought more peace, and hope, and joy than has come from discovering the marvelous qualities of the Savior and all the gracious, loving and merciful things He has done for me and my loved ones. I cannot in any way repay Him, or properly thank Him. But this I can do, and seek with all my heart to do, and that is stand as a witness of the goodness of the Father in giving us such a leader and friend as the Savior. I witness that Christ is divine, has risen from the dead, and out of his love for us has overcome every barrier to our return to Heavenly Father and realization of the unspeakable joys of eternal life. I know that His teachings are the only way to happiness and peace in this life, for individuals and nations, and to joy in the life to come. All I do and say is in the hope that I might further His cause and help others come to Him for the right guidance in life and the strength to keep His commandments. I know that through Christ sins can be overcome and forgiven, and lives changed, and hope restored.

Country Tracting without Purse or Script

Contributor: doddemagen Created: 1 year ago Updated: 1 year ago

Gale B Sessions... after forty years I still remember the name and face, better than that of any other companion. I arrived in Halifax, Nova Scotia, just before a missionary conference there with our mission president, S. Dilworth Young, one of the seven presidents of the First Quorum of Seventies. As we set in meetings, a dozen more or less missionaries working in Nova Scotia, Canada, a part of the New England Mission, I looked at the other older elders. One was plain, sturdy looking country boy from Idaho, Elder Sessions. I pictured myself working with the impressive Elders, but hopefully not the farm boy. Guess who I got? ... the farm boy. The Mission President knew better than I, who I needed for my first senior companion. And I was his first junior companion. At conference I learned that in our mission, during the summer, we were going back to an old missionary practice, abandoned long ago, of traveling without purse or script. We viewed this with real apprehension. As conference ended, President and Sister Young gave Elder Sessions and I a lift in their car to the town from which we were to begin our travels. He let us out, and we started down the highway into the farmland, late in the afternoon, with the pressing thought constantly growing...would someone give us a bed and a meal that night! Before the summer was gone, we became thinner but learned real faith, had many befriend us, made several meals from a hat full of blue berries picked from wild berry patches that grew along the railroad tracks and sides of the roadway, and held a number of fairly well attended meetings in the little school houses in the farm communities. We found some other wild berries, but not in great abundance. Once we struck it lucky and enjoyed handfulls of black berries from a large berry bush by the roadside. Lunch one day was a big turnip pulled from a garden. Along the sea coast one evening, supper was a platter full of small lobsters boiled in a bucket of sea water at the home of a lobster fisherman. You'll never taste better lobster. People often declined to give us lodging, I am sure, because of the humble, cluttered and inadequate facilities in their homes, feeling ministers, especially, needed something better. We spent a few nights laying on the ground in abandoned sheds or empty barns. One night on the benches of an opened church to escape the cold night air but most nights in a bed. We traveled very light with only a small suit case half full of tracts and copies of the Book of Mormon, an umbrella, maybe a light rain coat, a change of socks and underwear, but only the suit on our backs, plus a felt hat. When a light laundry needed doing, we would wash things in a creek running through a wooded area, dry them laid out on the ferns growing everywhere, and study while they dried. To get our mail we had to plan our travels realistically, keep the mission office informed of where we would be on a given day, and then ask in each community that had a post office if they had any mail come for us in General Delivery. On my birthday we walked several miles to a post office to check for mail. A box of cookies had come, but they were all crumbs, which we nevertheless greatly enjoyed walking back to the area we were tracting. Many communities had no power. The only bathroom was an outhouse in most cases. Cooking was done on a wood stove in the kitchen. In these stoves tall, large loaves of white bread were baked with very thick crusts. Slices of bread were usually eaten with butter and molasses. Delicious! We bathed, shaved, and washed up as needed in the creeks running through the countryside. But one special bath I remember in a house before meeting in the schoolhouse, we stood in a tub in the man's front room, which tub was filled with kettles and pans of water heated on the kitchen wood stove. Kitchens were usually the one warm room in the house and were large enough to accommodate a couch where a nap could be taken in the winter time in a room that was warm. I remember particularly well one morning, we had not received an invitation to stay with anyone the nigh before, so early in the morning while waiting for a proper hour to start tracting, we sat down to study by the rocky cliffs overlooking the ocean. A panel truck from the nearby town drove up, and a man began throwing a variety of stale loaves of bread from some bakery into the ocean. I almost stripped and jumped in after them. The only reason I didn't was the strict instructions given us in the mission training classes to not go swimming in lakes and rivers, etc. during our missions. Watching the loaves of bread float away was so hard to do when we were as hungry as we were. We remembered what we had heard about eating snails. So we found an old empty tobacco can, about a gallon size, rinsed it out, filled it with snail shells, gathered up some wood and soon had the snails cooking over the fire. When cooked, the snails bulged out of their shells so you could get hold of them and work them out of their shells. Rather than stale bread for breakfast, we had boiled snails, and we didn't suffer any more that morning from hunger pains.

The Healing of Sister Rushton

Contributor: doddemagen Created: 1 year ago Updated: 1 year ago

When I was reassigned with a new partner to work in Halifax, Nova Soctia, I met the Rushtons. He was a typical rough'n ready man. She was very spiritual. Their boy, in his early teens, was like his mother. Sister Rushton had searched and prayed a long time for the true church. One day after such a prayer, her room was filled with a brilliant light. Moments later, two Mormon missionaries knocked on her door as they came tracting through the area without purse or script. That fall, my comapnion and I made a weekly bus trip from Halifax to the Rushton's to have a cottage meeting with them. One such evening, on our arrival, we found sister Rushton ill in bed. She had been having increasing pain and trouble in one of her legs which had been badly mangled when she was a little girl when a runaway team and wagon ran over her leg. She did cleaning for a living which aggravated the leg trouble. And with her leg getting so bad, she wasn't able to go to work. They needed the income from her work, very much, since her husband wasn't working regularly. Because she wasn't feeling well, we told her we would come back another night for our meeting. She asked us if we would give her a blessing before we left. She mentioned that the Elders had taught her in the discussions that the same Priesthood power had been restored that had allowed Jesus' disciples to heal the sick in their day, and that laying on of hands and healing the sick was again being practiced in the restored church today. We gave her a blessing and left with the promise we'd return in a week. On our return we found Sister Rushton well and working without any of the pain and trouble she had been experiencing for a long time. The pain had left shortly after our blessing. As long as I was in the mission field and in touch with Sister Rushton she reported that she had had no further trouble with her leg. Eventually we baptized Sister Rushton and her boy.

Near miss

Contributor: doddemagen Created: 1 year ago Updated: 1 year ago

When William was about 2 years old he figured out how to bang the gate and open it. He got out and started riding a little scooter out into the street. He was nearly hit by a young lady driving by who had had drivers ed and knew to watch out for such things. His mother came running out after him. This story was told to me by his sister Barbara.

William Richard Stucki

Contributor: doddemagen Created: 1 year ago Updated: 1 year ago

There are a million things I could say about my dad. He was always happy, friendly, and available, even during difficult times. My friends and other acquaintances would ask me "Does your father always smile?" To which I would respond "Yeah, pretty much always." I guess that I just became used to it, so I asked him once how we was able to smile all the time. He said "I just think of all my blessings, and I can't help but smile in appreciation." Dad was one in a million.

Dream come true

Contributor: doddemagen Created: 1 year ago Updated: 1 year ago

In Fall of 1975 we found ten acres of good land in a beautiful valley and decided to change our life style to a beautiful dream we had always had. In Salt Lake we had crowded our small yard with a garden, many fruit trees and even chickens, but we were continually frustrated that we didn't have more land. We decided to "sell all" and make this great change in our lives. For the past year-and-a-half we have been modern-day homesteaders experiencing many trials and labors of pioneering. Starting with land only in June of 1976, we now have electricity, a well, a log building, fences, over 100-new-tree orchard, pastures, a very large vegetable garden, strawberry patch, other berries and grapes, a Jersey cow, goats, pigs, chickens, sheep, turkeys, ducks, septic tank and drain field, animal shelters and even a play house and swing - all of which we have done as a family (except electricity and well). We make or raise all our own bread, cheese, butter, vegetables, meat and will eventually be nearly self sufficient. Our goal is to produce enough pure food for ourselves, to provide our children with opportunities to see the wonders of nature, to value family closeness, and the opportunity to learn what work really is. We are well on our way to achieving this. Marjorie C. Stucki 11-26-77

One in a million

Contributor: doddemagen Created: 1 year ago Updated: 1 year ago

Back when video tape recorders were the brand new technology, we purchased a camera of this type. The camera we chose fit an entire VHS cassette and looked something like a news camera. Though it was massive when compared to the little, hand-held devices of today, at the time, it was the peak of technology, and we were delighted. We brought the camera down to Castle Valley with us when Steven and Camilla were still small children–not knowing exactly what we were going to capture. But we knew we should begin filming something for our history. Well, it happened that I had the camera out just as Grandpa was preparing to go milk Janey, so I started filming. Grandpa saw what I was doing and played along. Rather than just completing the steps as he prepared for milking, he began narrating the incident in behalf of those that would soon be watching the video. “So first, we get the milking pail and put grain in this bucket for Janey to munch on–one, two, three cans, like that.” He scooped the grain from a large metal garbage can, and in his charismatic, animated way he performed the task with a smile on his face and warmth that radiated to his audience. “We keep the washing bucket and rag here, so we will bring that along with us as well.” I loved being with my dad and capturing this experience on video cassette was really great. He continued with his daily routine, entering the milking shed, positioning Janey and speaking softly and affectionately to her as he sat down on his three-legged stool and washed her udder before milking. As the streams of milk flowed into the pail, the steel of the bucket resounded with vibration until the milk shortly began filling the bucket. His hands were moving rapidly and never slowed to rest his weary muscles. After years of milking, dad’s grip was firm and the strength of his hands and forearms now lasted longer than the milking. It wasn’t always that way, as I well knew. But over years of milking twice a day, 7 days-a-week, 365 days-a-year, dad’s endurance, consistency, and strength shown through. Then he began telling a story about his life. I continued recording as he told about his mission in Nova Scotia where he served as a young missionary without purse or script. Dad said that back then, missions had the option of choosing that method from among others, and that meant he depended on a kind soul to give him and his companion a room and a meal in exchange for preaching the gospel. Most days that worked fine, but occasionally he and his companion went hungry and even spent some nights under the stars. He shared with us many other experiences, as well. Grandpa had the uncanny ability to draw people in with his stories, especially when they were about real-life events and included fun and interesting observations about life’s lessons. This was no exception, and not surprisingly, this became the favorite tape for our children. They watched it constantly, literally every day. That way, they were able to enjoy the farm, the animals, and Grandpa from long distance. Eventually the tape became so worn and battered that it began showing signs of wear. Before long the sound on the tape faded in-and-out until it altogether ceased. Later, the video was misplaced before I had a chance to transfer it to a DVD. But in our memories, we will forever cherish the numerous moments like these with Grandpa in Castle Valley.

Life timeline of William Richard Stucki

William Richard Stucki was born on 21 Aug 1928
William Richard Stucki was 11 years old when Adolf Hitler signs an order to begin the systematic euthanasia of mentally ill and disabled people. Adolf Hitler was a German politician, demagogue, and Pan-German revolutionary, who was the leader of the Nazi Party, Chancellor of Germany from 1933 to 1945 and Führer ("Leader") of Nazi Germany from 1934 to 1945. As dictator, Hitler initiated World War II in Europe with the invasion of Poland in September 1939, and was central to the Holocaust.
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William Richard Stucki was 17 years old when World War II: Combat ends in the Pacific Theater: The Japanese Instrument of Surrender is signed by Japanese Foreign Minister Mamoru Shigemitsu and accepted aboard the battleship USS Missouri in Tokyo Bay. The Pacific War, sometimes called the Asia-Pacific War, was the theater of World War II that was fought in the Pacific and Asia. It was fought over a vast area that included the Pacific Ocean and islands, the South West Pacific, South-East Asia, and in China.
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William Richard Stucki was 27 years old when Disneyland Hotel opens to the public in Anaheim, California. The Disneyland Hotel is a resort hotel located at the Disneyland Resort in Anaheim, California, owned by the Walt Disney Company and operated through its Parks, Experiences and Consumer Products division. Opened on October 5, 1955, as a motor inn owned and operated by Jack Wrather under an agreement with Walt Disney, the hotel was the first to officially bear the Disney name. Under Wrather's ownership, the hotel underwent several expansions and renovations over the years before being acquired by Disney in 1988. The hotel was downsized to its present capacity in 1999 as part of the Disneyland Resort expansion.
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William Richard Stucki was 37 years old when Thirty-five hundred United States Marines are the first American land combat forces committed during the Vietnam War. The United States Marine Corps (USMC), also referred to as the United States Marines, is a branch of the United States Armed Forces responsible for conducting amphibious operations with the United States Navy. The U.S. Marine Corps is one of the four armed service branches in the U.S. Department of Defense (DoD) and one of the seven uniformed services of the United States.
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William Richard Stucki was 50 years old when Jim Jones led more than 900 members of the Peoples Temple to mass murder/suicide in Jonestown, Guyana, hours after some of its members assassinated U.S. Congressman Leo Ryan (pictured). James Warren Jones was an American religious cult leader who initiated and was responsible for a mass suicide and mass murder in Jonestown, Guyana. He considered Jesus Christ as being in compliance with an overarching belief in socialism as the correct social order. Jones was ordained as a Disciples of Christ pastor, and he achieved notoriety as the founder and leader of the Peoples Temple cult.
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William Richard Stucki was 57 years old when Space Shuttle program: STS-51-L mission: Space Shuttle Challenger disintegrates after liftoff, killing all seven astronauts on board. The Space Shuttle program was the fourth human spaceflight program carried out by the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA), which accomplished routine transportation for Earth-to-orbit crew and cargo from 1981 to 2011. Its official name, Space Transportation System (STS), was taken from a 1969 plan for a system of reusable spacecraft of which it was the only item funded for development.
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William Richard Stucki was 63 years old when The World Wide Web is opened to the public. The World Wide Web (WWW), also called the Web, is an information space where documents and other web resources are identified by Uniform Resource Locators (URLs), interlinked by hypertext links, and accessible via the Internet. English scientist Tim Berners-Lee invented the World Wide Web in 1989. He wrote the first web browser in 1990 while employed at CERN in Switzerland. The browser was released outside CERN in 1991, first to other research institutions starting in January 1991 and to the general public on the Internet in August 1991.
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William Richard Stucki died on 27 Feb 2008 at the age of 79
Grave record for William Richard Stucki (21 Aug 1928 - 27 Feb 2008), BillionGraves Record 1440 Springville, Utah, Utah, United States