By James E. Kerns

     It is an honor and a privilege to be able to speak at Dave's funeral.  I've thought about him more or les constantly for the last few days; and having this responsibility to speak here, I've had to try to be organized in my thinking.  As I've done so, it has struck me rather forcibly how very organized and structured Dave's life was.

I talked with each of his children over the phone last night and asked each if there was anything they'd like me to say or if there were any stories they'd like me to relate.  Though none of them knew what the others had said, they made many of the same observations and hit on many of the same points.

Maretta said:  "He was a completely honorable man."

Mary said"  "he was a totally honorable man."  She also said:  "He was a real patriarch, very quiet, always soft-spoken, but when he spoke we all listened.  I never heard him cuss.  He was totally, completely honest."

Dave obeyed the law, whether it was civil law or God's law.  He believed in driving 55 miles per hour.  One day two or three years ago while on his way to Ontario, a policeman pulled him over for speeding.  Dave insisted in his polite way that he had been going 55.  The officer, however, gave him a ticket for going 62.

Dave had never received a ticket in his life, and it bothered him that his first one should be for speeding when he knew that he hadn't been.  He thought about what might have caused the mistake.  Having figured it out in his mind he began doing some research and "gathered the evidence."  He talked with his mechanic, with a tire salesman and with a car dealer.  Then he appeared in court on the appointed day and explained to the judge that whereas his car should have been equipped with tires of one size, it actually had tires of another size, which according to the experts would cause his speedometer to show that he was going 6 miles per hour slower than he actually was.  As far as he had known he had been obeying the law.

The judge was impressed with the homework Dave had done.  Because of that, and because of his perfect driving record, he happily dismissed the case.  Dave died with an unblemished driving record.

Dave kept God's laws with the same precision.  When Dave and Zelma bought their house there was a great deal of work to do on the yard.  At one point Dave hired a man to come with a piece of equipment to do something.  The man didn't appear for several days.  Then on Sunday he arrived ready to go to work.  In his usual polite way, which made it impossible for anyone to take offense, Dave told the man, "We don't work on the Sabbath around here."

The man drove his equipment back home, and returned the next day to do the job.

Dave worked for many years as the co-manager of Baker-La Grande Grocery Company.  In that position he not only supplied grocery stores in four counties with their goods, but he also won the respect and trust of the store owners.

Some of the store owners were not good bookkeepers.  Dave was an excellent bookkeeper.  As things developed he ended up "taking a statement" on a monthly basis for two or three of the stores.  Usually it was done without thought of being paid.  In gratitude for his unselfishness one store had him pick out anything in it that he might want.  He chose a rifle.  Another intended that if anything should happen to them, the store was to go to Dave.

Mary said that her father "was an expert at giving.  He perfectly lived the scripture which says, 'Let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth.'  (Matt. 6:3).  He would help and give, but I don't think he even remembered."

Don said, "He was the most unselfish person I've ever known.  He'd let you take the car or anything he had.  He'd loan his car with no questions asked.  If I ever asked him for money he'd give it to me.  I might get a lecture like, 'What did you do with yours?' but he always gave me what I asked for."

When Christmas came around each year Dave told all of his kids, "Don't get anything for me.  I don't need a thing."  Three or four years ago he sternly told Margie and I the same thing.  Then he added, "If you get me anything I'll throw it in the fireplace."

That gave me an idea.  Dave had complained about his andirons, so I reasoned that if the present was going in the fireplace anyway, it might as well be andirons.  I got a length of railroad iron and built a set of andirons using my blowtorch.  We carefully wrapped them up in the box that our pendulum clock had come in, and even packed them in the styrofoam case that had protected it.  He acted so disgusted when we set that heavy box on his lap.  He shook his head that we'd be so stupid as to spend money on him.  When he removed the wrapper and saw that the gift was a clock—something he didn't need at all—he was more disgusted than ever.  How we all laughed when he found the dirty old railroad irons packed in styrofoam—the gift he could throw in the fireplace.

Dave was interested in everything.  He was interested in the trains that went by his house.  (His father had been an engineer on the Sumpter Valley Railroad).

He was interested in children.  In fact he had a magnetism where children were concerned.  He attracted them.  Whenever any of us have had a baby that refused to be comforted, he would take it in his arms and within a matter of minutes have it quiet and relaxed.  Just last week Dave and Zelma attended Erin Anderson's wedding reception.  John and Nancy Boyer's two children, who I don't think knew them at all, came over to them.  One crawled up on Zelma's lap and the other crawled up on Dave's.  They sat there perfectly contented and happy.

As one of Dave's children, he was interested even in me.  Last night at 2:30 I suddenly came wide awake with the realization that somewhere in the house I had a personal letter from Dave.  I had been in Japan and had written him a letter asking his permission to marry his daughter.  The letter I had was his answer.  I jumped out of bed and spent the next 30 minutes searching for it.  I found it, now one of my treasures.

Dave was interested in places.  He took his family on an annual vacation.  Several of them mentioned the yearly trips when I talked with them.  He wanted his kids to see everything they could, wherever he could take them.

One of his kids gave him a big, thick almanac for Christmas a couple of years ago.  He read it from start to finish quoting to us many interesting facts about every subject imaginable.

Dave was interested in anything which took place in Baker.  He was born on Colorado Street in south Baker, and died in his home of 52 years just eight blocks north of his birthplace.  Except for the three years he spent serving a mission in Germany, and a nine-month period after his wedding, he never lived anywhere else.  In our highly mobile society that's astounding.

Living in one house for 52 years was just part of Dave's organization.  Everything he did was planned.  Margie pointed out that he knew what he was going to have for breakfast:  oatmeal every day except on Saturday when he'd have bacon and eggs.  He came home for lunch, took a 15-minute nap before he returned to work, and arrived home at the same time every evening.  "You could have set a clock by him," Margie said.  "What always impressed me was his stability.  It fostered in us a sense of security."

Dave and Zelma were married in 1933, a short time after he returned from his mission.  It was during the Depression.  Due to the circumstances of the times his job ran out, so he proposed to Zelma with the words, "This is probably a good time to go get married."

They went to Logan, Utah and were married there in the temple for time and eternity.  Back in Baker they lived for nine months in a rented house on Edgewater Street.  The house where they now live came up for sale for $900.  They borrowed the money from Bishop Eardley, and within two or three years had it all paid for.

Several years ago Zelma got tired of her old couch and wanted a new one.  Dave, however, wouldn't let her have one.  "I'll be darned if I'm going to pay more for a couch than I paid for the house!"  Zelma never got her new couch until Marianne gave her one.

Dave loved a challenge whether it was a word game in the newspaper or a big physical challenge.  I have a farm out at Haines that belonged to my father.  Years ago Dad built a potato cellar there.  An excavation was made, and a framework of big poles was erected over it to make the roof.  Woven wire was stapled over the poles, bales of straw were placed on the wire, and the straw was covered with a foot or two of soil.

By the time that I came into possession of it the cellar had become dangerous.  Holes had appeared in the roof.  Livestock walked up over the roof, and I was afraid that someone or something would fall through.  One day my horse was missing from the field.  After a search I found him looking very woebegone, standing inside the cellar after having fallen through the roof.

I mentioned my problem to Dave.  The cellar needed to be taken down, but even with my equipment, it looked like a long, drawn-out, formidable task.  I didn't even want to begin.

Dave had retired by that time.  One morning he drove up in his pickup.  He had a shovel and a hammer and a big wrecking bar.  He announced that he was going to take the cellar down by hand.  It took him most of the summer, but when he was done the cellar was again part of a level field.

By that time the loggers were done in my woods.  Our once beautiful woods were, of course, a mess.  Dave declared his intention to clean them up.  He cut large limbs and pieces into firewood for himself, and piled the smaller limbs and rotten pieces in huge piles to be burned when fire season was over.  But Dave was a perfectionist.  He wanted his woods to look like the forests he'd seen in Germany.  They looked like parks.  So Dave brought out his wheelbarrow and rake, and raked all those acres as he cleaned them.  No twigs, thistles or pine cones could be left to mar his job.

Then one day he said to me, "I think I'll dig out the stumps."  That panicked me.  I figured if he lived to be 100 he might get the woods cleaned up.  If he was also going to dig out the stumps he'd have to be around 'til 150.  I had to talk fast, but for once I managed to dissuade him from his purpose.

The truth of the matter was that such a project didn't scare him a bit.  He felt no compulsion to have the job done by any deadline, and he knew he could do the work.  He'd done it before.  When they purchased their house it had been ringed by huge cottonwood trees.  He had all but one taken down.  The stumps he dug out himself.  He dug all around them chopping off roots as he encountered them.  I, myself, watched him dig one out.  It took weeks, but when he was done there was nothing left but a level lawn.

Dave got a great deal of satisfaction out of his labors.  "Isn't it beautiful?" he'd say as we sat and looked at Dave Hunt Park, as we called his clean woods.

Don said last night, "He dedicated his whole life to what he should have—his family.  His career was important only because it brought things to his family."

Dave trusted his family.  When he sent Margie off to college he simply put her name on his checking account, gave her a checkbook, and told her to write checks for whatever she needed.

One day he was discussing college financing with an acquaintance and told him how he'd set Margie up.  "You can't do that," the man vehemently protested.  "Your kids will rob you blind!"

"No they won't," Dave replied.  And they didn't.  Because he trusted his kids they returned his trust.  Margie watched his money so carefully that she wouldn't so much as buy herself a candy bar.

Dave was active in the Church all of his life.  He never had so much as a hint of inactivity.  Not only did he serve a 3-year mission to Germany, of which he was very proud, but he also was in attendance at church each Sunday.  When all the records are in I'm sure they'll show that he had one of the best attendance records of anyone in the Church.  He never missed, not even for illness, because he was never sick.

In the Church, positions are filled by individuals being called by their bishoprics or stake presidencies.  All of the teachers and clerks and secretaries and presidencies of the various organizations are called to serve for indefinite periods with no pay.  At the time of his death Dave was serving as financial clerk of the Baker First Ward.  He had held that position for seven years—three years longer than the next longest term of service for anyone in any calling in either of the Baker wards.

He loved his calling.  Everything had to be absolutely perfect.  Mistakes had been made by his predecessors; and though he didn't have to, when he took over the position he went back five years in the records, going over each detail, and corrected all the mistakes.

He, himself, made very few mistakes.  Occasionally, however, the computer in Salt Lake made errors in his work that he hadn't made.  On those occasions he had to call Salt Lake and straighten out the computer.  I teased him that I knew what his next calling would be.  They'd call him to be Church Computer.

Last Sunday evening I worked until late in my office at the church.  I assumed that I was the last to leave, so I locked everything up.  Then I got in my car and circled the building to make sure there were no lights left on.  Dave's car was parked on the other side of the building, and the lights were on in his office.

The next morning shortly after 6:00 Dave passed away peacefully in his bed.  That day Bishop Defrees and his wife came to the house.  As we visited he remarked, "They probably have him busy keeping books."

That statement is probably not far from the mark.  The scriptures talk about us entering into "the Lord's rest" where there is no pain nor sorrow.  The Lord's rest, however, is defined in D&C 84:24 as "the fullness of his glory."

Moses 1:39 says, "This is my work and my glory—to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man."  In other words the Lord's work is his glory.  The two are synonymous.

There are some who say that if one is faithful and keeps all the commandments he will be rewarded with the privilege of sitting on a cloud and playing a harp through eternity.

Dave would not consider that a privilege.

To the contrary Joseph F. Smith, the sixth president of the Church, was shown a vision wherein he beheld the world of spirits and the activities that occur there.  He wrote:

"I beheld that the faithful elders of this dispensation,  when they depart from mortal

life, continue their labors in the preaching of the gospel of repentance and redemption,

through the sacrifice of the Only Begotten Son of God, among those who are in dark-

ness and under the bondage of sin in the great world of the spirits of the dead.

"The dead who repent will be redeemed, through obedience to the ordinances of

the house of God,

"And after they have paid the penalty of their transgressions, and are washed clean,

shall receive a reward according to their works, for they are heirs of salvation."

(D&C 138:57-59).

The scriptures talk about the fact that there is no pain in the world of spirits.  It is true that there is no physical pain such as we know here, but I've identified one pain that is experienced there.  Joseph Smith said concerning the righteous dead that "they are not far from us, and know and understand our thoughts, feelings, and motions, and are often pained therewith."  (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, pg. 326).  That is a sobering thought, and one that helps me to do the things that I should.  If Dave is not only going to be seeing my actions, but also knowing my thoughts, I don't want to do anything to make him ashamed of me.

I would like to make it clear that the body before us now is not Dave Hunt.  Dave Hunt is the spirit that stepped out of that body Monday morning.  He was ready to go, had said his goodbyes, and had absolutely no fear.

His Patriarchal Blessing, given 56 years ago says, "Thou shalt live until thou art satisfied with life and thy labors."

He did, and he was.

David pointed out last night that had Dave had the opportunity before he came to earth of designing his life, he would have designed it just as he lived it and died just as he died.  He had no regrets that I am aware of.

Let me recount what has happened to Dave since early Monday morning.  As his spirit left his body his sense of adventure was quickened as he experienced the sights, sounds, colors and feelings of the Spirit World.  His memory of his pre-earth existence returned.  Ecclesiastes says, "Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was:  and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it."  (Eccl. 12:7).  Obviously the spirit could not "return" unto some place it had never been before.  We know that each of us lived as spirits before we came to this earth—spirit children of our Father in Heaven.  Our memories of all that occurred there were taken from us when we came to earth; but when we leave it and return to the Spirit World, those memories return.

Dave next had a personal interview with the Savior—his Savior, whom he spent a lifetime serving.  The prophet, Alma, in the Book of Mormon said,

"Now, concerning the state of the soul between death and the resurrection—

Behold, it has been made known unto me by an angel, that the spirits of all men,

as soon as they are departed from this mortal body, yea, the spirits of all men,

whether they be good or evil, are taken home to that God who gave them life.

"And then shall it come to pass, that the spirits of those who are righteous

are received into a state of happiness, which is called paradise, a state of rest,

a state of peace, where they shall rest from all their troubles and from all care,

and sorrow."  (Alma 40:11, 12).

At the conclusion of that interview there is not a doubt in my mind but that the Savior said to him, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant:  thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things:  enter thou into the joy of thy Lord."  (Matt. 25:21).

There next followed a joyous reunion of Dave with his mother; his father; his brothers Tom, Chris and James; his sisters Mary and Clara; his grandparents of many generations; and many other relatives and friends.

Surely the past few days have been the happiest and most exciting period of time Dave has ever experienced.

Other events he will be looking forward to are the resurrection, when he will come and reclaim this same body, never to lose it again, and the times when each member of his family will come to join him there in the Spirit World.

Mary said last night that, "He was always there, no matter what the situation."

David related how his dad would take him up to Granite during hunting season, let him out at a certain place, and say:  "Just follow this ditch and you'll eventually come to a road.  I'll be there to pick you up."

David said, "It never occurred to me that Dad wouldn't be there."  And I know that will be the case when each of us steps into the Spirit World.  He'll be there to greet us and to show us around.

In closing I must mention that one of the best things about Dave is Zelma.  We still have her with us.  I speak for the whole family when I say that she is the most amazing, most wonderful, most kind and compassionate woman any of us has ever known.

Zelma, we'd like you to know that there are 49 of your children, grandchildren, great grandchildren and spouses that love you more than we love ourselves.

It is my prayer that we may all live so as to merit the blessing of being together as a family through the eternities.  I ask this in the name of Jesus Christ.  Amen.