Grandma Bernie's Obituary

BERNARDINI, Doris Peacefully with her family and friends at her side on Tuesday, September 13, 2005 at the Hotel Dieu-Shaver Hospital at 82 years of age. Loving mother of Linda (Kenneth) Whitney, Tina (Ken) Hardy, Louise Bernardini, Renzo Bernardini, dear Grandma and Nana of Sean, Brendan, Gina, Christopher, Melanie, Martha, Rebecca, Reina, McKay and Matthias, sister of Freida Faour and Edward Boulos. Predeceased by her sisters and brothers: Marie, Adele, Theresa, Peter, Fred and Leo. She was a loving friend to everyone she met. Doris is resting at the GEORGE DARTE FUNERAL CHAPEL, 585 Carlton St., where a funeral service to celebrate her life will be held on Thursday at 11 a.m. with cremation to follow. Visiting hours Wednesday 1-3 and 7-9 p.m. In lieu of flowers, donations to the Canadian Cancer Society would be appreciated by the family.

Mom's Journal

It all started the week before school was to begin. Louise phoned to say that Mom's cancer was spreading, and she was in the hospital. I took time off, missing the week of back-to-school meetings, and went for a visit. Ken and Dad drove me to the airport, and I couldn't help noticing Dad's weakened condition. I mentioned my concern to Ken when I phoned the next day. But Mom seemed to be in great spirits. She had two spunky roommates who exchanged treats, stuffed animals and visitors. We played cards, and she always beat me. We also got in trouble with one of the nurses for violating visiting hours, plus having too many visitors when Aunt Nazha, Uncle Eddie, Laila and Anita arrived. That was quite a day. After all that excitement, they decided that evening that Mom was well enough to move to a "rehab" center. I packed her up, and the two of us went for a ride in an ambulance. The Hotel Dieu seemed like a great place with friendly nurses and more facilities for activities. Mom didn't like her new roommates. They were too quiet and didn't like to play cards. She just wanted to go home, so she could "relax." Meanwhile she had more company than any other patients. Aunt Freida and her daughter Joanne arrived from Newfoundland bearing gifts of chocolate, homemade fudge and homemade pistachio bitlawa. We chatted until Mom was exhausted. She recalled the fun visits she'd had this summer from Martha & Jeremy, and also Chris and Summer. Although she needed help getting in and out of the wheelchair, she seemed quite lively. The doctors gave her six months, but one never knows. By the end of the week, I turned Mom's care back over to Louise and Tina, and returned home.

School got off to the usual whirlwind start, and Ken had talked Adele into coming down to check on Dad. By Friday we were ready to head out to the cabin, but Ken had one delay after another. By the time he got home, it was 5:00, and he said that we may as well stay home for Labor Day weekend. This was totally out of character. Meanwhile, Adele left and Joy arrived a day early. The next morning, Joy called to ask us to take Dad to the hospital. Everything seemed to be happening as if someone else was in control, so we just followed along in a blur. There was lots of company, blessing after blessing, trips to the hospital, and finally Dad passed peacefully away. Then there was more company, more family, singing practices, program planning, and finally the funeral: such a comforting tribute to a noble life. We went to bed late Monday night, totally exhausted.

Meanwhile Louise had been sending me reports of Mom's deteriorating condition. She had trouble breathing as if a tumor was pressing against her lungs. A couple hours after we went to sleep that night after the funeral, Louise called to tell us Mom passed away. It surprised me how the news made me shake and tremble in Ken's arms, and of course, I cried too. Finally I got up to give Ken a chance to sleep a bit, and I heard Hyrum crying downstairs. He had gotten off his sleep schedule and decided he wanted to stay up all night and play. So Martha and Hyrum kept me company for a couple of hours while I figured out what to do, and made some plane reservations. I arrived late Tuesday, and spent the next day visiting and helping make arrangements for the funeral. To my delight, not only Ken followed me up, but all my kids, except Matt. And he got to phone home twice in one week! What a comfort and strength he was to talk to. The rest of the kids supported me through the funeral, and turned a sad occasion into a surprise family reunion. Ken and I spent time with Louise while the kids had some fun. We invaded relatives, as well as catching a few tourist attractions such as the locks at the Welland Canal, Niagara Falls and Toronto Island. I proudly shared my husband, kids and grandkids with relatives I haven't seen in many years.

I came to the realization that although my mom lived a simple and seemingly insignificant life, especially compared to some of our more affluent relatives, she made a huge difference. She raised her children to be strong, successful and happy. I'm grateful for all she taught me, and realize that most of it was by her quiet example. Mom was always at home for us, always there for us, yet she gave us the freedom to pursue our own dreams without stifling us with selfish desires of her own. I'm thankful for my life, and I know that I could never have become all I am today without Mom.

Last Friday, Ken took me up to cabin where we both found time to reflect and relax. I reassured him that he had indeed taken excellent care of his dad. He comforted me too. Sometimes it still bothers me to live so far away from my family in Canada, and I feel a bit left out of their lives. That night I had a dream that I saw my Mom. She was out walking, and I didn't recognize her at first. Her face was young and healthy; her hair was light and shimmering, and she was wearing a light beige coat. She reached out and hugged me for a long time, and then she hugged me some more. Just before she disappeared she said, "I love you." It seemed so real that maybe it wasn't a dream.

I still have trouble believing she's really gone. It doesn't feel like it. When I drive by Dad's house, I tell myself that surely he's still inside, busy at the computer, or in the kitchen or watching TV in his easy chair.

All in all, I'd like to say that I'm proud of our family, and would encourage all of you to continue on the straight and narrow path you have been following. Keep those good priorities at the top of your list of decisions, so that one day you'll be able to look back without regret and have the satisfaction that you lived your life the very best you could.

Love, Mom

Martha's World

Hi Everyone! It was wonderful seeing you all during the past few adventures. Now we're back home and things are still in disarray because Lyle is potty-training. Since we've been back home, my day consists of solely cheering Lyle on as he sits on the toilet or trying to get things back in order and then finding Lyle crouched in a corner having an accident. It's definitely been a learning experience for the both of us! I know everyone just saw Hyrum and have seen him in person to know how cute he is, so I feel silly saying it more than I already did when we were altogether--but isn't he so cute?!?!?! Now that we're home and I can pay more attention to Rummy, his blood chortling screams are down to cute little "ahh's and ma-ma's." Going potty and making a fuss over Rummy is pretty much what our life consists of right now. Hopefully both Lyle and I will feel comfortable enough to go out in public soon . . . until then . . .we hope everyone is enjoying the fall weather. I'm sooo excited for October and the fall season to come. Today was the first day it felt like fall. I had all the doors and windows opened all day. It was so soothing to hear the breeze rustle through the leaves on the trees. I can't wait until the leaves begin to "flutter" to the ground. Enjoy the fall!

Love, the Tanners

Elder Winnie

Querida familia,

I guess it's finally back to school for everyone, after two or three weeks of "fake" back to school with everything that's been happening. Everything is ok here. I had a pretty fun Pday today. It's a tradition in the mission that one of your last Pdays you have permission to leave the borders of the mission to a really touristy part of the city with a bunch of colonial stuff and a road full of souvenir junk to buy. So that day was today for my papi in the mission, Elder Mantz, and we did an intercambio so I could go with him. He leaves the mission in two weeks. It was pretty fun. I bought two small paintings and a few other little fun things. I don't like the idea of going souvenir shopping with still so much time left in the mission, but I still seemed to do it just fine! The highlight was definitely that there on the Conde (as the street is called) is an arcade with a DANCE DANCE REVOLUTION machine. I did a few songs on medium level and then someone came up to do it with me and I bumped it up to expert mode and drew a crowd! But then after not too long I was dying from being out of shape and from the terrible heat. I was exhausted and terribly sweaty for the rest of the shopping adventure, seriously sweaty. The tips of my fingers were starting to wrinkle up from the sweat! I sometimes think I look really cool doing that, but then realize I probably just look obsessive and really gross. Oh well, I had fun and Elder Mantz was impressed.

We're projecting a baptism this week for the first time in this area. She wasn't able to attend stake conference because she was feeling sick, but she was sure to send her ten-year-old son that we plan on baptizing with her. So I think we're okay.

The heat has finally been letting down, kind of. I think we're finally passed the huge summer heat. We've had a few scorchers, but a few right pleasant days where the clouds cover the sun and a nice breeze keeps us going. I don't know about another storm like Hurricane Katrina coming by. We had one or two days with maybe a half hour of heavy rain, but nothing like what I've seen here before (and supposedly, I've still never really seen anything THAT bad. What luck, eh?).

Elder Garner and I are working really hard to keep investigators going to church and progressing. President Bair has issued the challenge that all the missionaries do 10 contacts everyday. There wasn't a whole lot of missionaries meeting that goal, so I issued the challenge to my district that whatever companionship does the most contacts in a given week gets brownies or cookies or some kind of jugo or the like. Instant results! One companionship was so excited to tell us that we owed them brownies because they met the goal and made 70 contacts. Not so! Two other companionships were sure we owed them brownies when they told us they not only met their goal to do 70 but smashed the goal doing 79 and 83 contacts. Not so! If they want my brownies, they have to do more contacts than their district leader who that week made 90. Ha! So to celebrate Elder Garner and I made a really yummy lechosa jugo with milk (I think lechosa is the same thing as papaya?). Elder Garner and I won again with 79 contacts, but everyone is still making a real effort to meet the goals that I put for the district. It's really neat.

And doing all these contacts, we've been rejected quite a few more times than usually, but we've met some pretty interesting people too. For example, while knocking doors (or more pushing the buttons on call boxes outside of the fortified brick walls) of a very rich area, the garage door opened and a women came out and said, "Missionaries! This way please. You did want to come in, right? She escorts us past a huge dining room and a really nice pool table and an amazing looking kitchen and says, "This way to the office." She sits us down in executive chairs across from a very nice looking desk. We thought she was recording our conversation when, after asking us where we were from, she picked up some kind of remote control and we heard a distinctive BEEP BEEP! Turns out it was the remote controlled air conditioning. When we looked at her surprised and scared, she said, "You are hot, aren't you?" So we taught her a five minute restoration lesson and made a return appointment, we looked around at all the offical looking pictures of Lionel (the president of this country) with a man. We asked who the man was and she said "Oh, this is my brother's office. He's a politico." I don't know if that means like a senator or one of Lionel's top 5 or something. Then we saw a picture of her brother, Lionel, and an old man in an army outfit and a beard shaking hands on an airstrip. I swear it was Fidel Castro! We'll see....

But we're gonna be getting on now. Thanks for everything you do and your prayers and support. I love you!

Querida Familia (Latest Update),

Well, another transfer closes, only with a little bit of surprise ending here: after only six short weeks in Bella Vista / Quisqueya, I'm leaving the capital completly for a little pueblito called Azua. And what's more, I've been promoted (is that a proper term when speaking of callings in the church?) to zone leader! The perks? Cell phone, truck, one step up on the line of authority, so when I'm dealing with a problem, I can talk to the people that fix the problem, rather than talking to the people that forget to tell the people that fix the problem. The downside? I'm in charge of all the missionaries in Azua and the surrounding area. To be truthful though, I think my district in the capital right now has just as many missionaries as Azua. But anyway, I'm honored that president sees me reliable enough for the task. I'm pretty excited.

My new companion will be a Domincan missionary named Elder Mejia. He's a really experienced missionary; I believe he's only got about 3 or 4 months left in the mission. So I'm excited for the experience and to see how someone else does it. I am a little bit worried though leaving my area. My current companion, Elder Garner, is going up to senior companion to an outerlying pueblito of the capital called Los Bajos de Haina. "What?" you say? "Pulling both companions out of the area? But who will continue with all of the great investigators that Elder Garner and I have prepared for baptism? Don't they have baptismal dates for the upcoming weeks?" Good question. Those are my exact concerns too. Apparently, the office elders will be taking over our area. Let me explain.

In every mission (I think every mission) there are four elders dedicated to office work: a house elder, a car/bike elder, a financial secretary, and an executive secretary. They work 10 to 6 every day in the mission office keeping things running in the mission and supposedly have proselyting duties after 6 pm every day. But it takes a dedicated set of office elders to actually do any mission work at all. Imagine it. After a full shift of work in the air conditioned office to go out into the heat to try and find someone to teach? So generally, office elders don't do much missionary work. For this, I'm a little bit worried that our potential baptisms, including our family, might slip through the cracks. But, I'm doing all of my responsiblities and filling out all the area information in the proper notebooks with phone numbers and addresses and I put the rest in the Lord's hands. Here's to faith.

I also received my inheritance box from Elder Mantz today. He ends the mission tomorrow. It was full of random shirts, pants, about 50 ties (might I add horrible ties) including my generation tie (including six generations from Papi to hijo) and a bunch of other random junk that wouldn't fit in his suitcase. Neat, I guess. We'll see how much of it makes it to Azua with me!

But I've got to head out. I still need to pack and look through the information I've written about the area to make sure it's complete. I need to phone a few people in the area to tell them about the new missionaries, and in about four hours, the zone leaders are coming to pick me up to stay the night at their house and at 5 or 6 am tomorrow, it's off to the bus station Caribe Tours to take me and another Elder to Azua. Yay! Campo!

I love you all and keep you in my prayers. Thanks for your support and prayers.

Con Amor,

Elder Winni

Mk and Keresa

So this month we had issues in the bank account. When we got back from Canada we found that there was an automatic withdrawal set up on our account for some prepaid debit card. Upon interrogating Keresa, I was frustrated that she could have spent $150 on a prepaid debit card and not even remember it. Well, she assured me it must be fraud. Turns out it was. We assumed someone must have taken one of our checks from the mailbox, or someone who enters the checks at the power company or water company just copied our account info off of a check, including routing number etc. Then at the end of the week there was another automatic withdrawal set up for another prepaid debit card with a different company, this time for $170! Luckily our credit union is really good about helping us fight these and they have refunded these speedily. Our account has an 01 for savings, then 02 for checking. The manager at our branch advised us to open an 03 checking and move all our stuff into there to keep the fraud user from taking more. Sadly, we received this counsel just after we paid the monthly bills, so we have to wait for all those checks to clear before we can move the funds. Since then only one more auto transaction has been set up. We found that our mail also contained a bill from our cell phone provider advising us we had better pay last month's bill or our phones would be shut off. AHA! The missing check! So either someone stole our mail on the day we paid that bill, or a mailman did, or the person who enters the payments at Cingular did. I suppose I would advise everyone to either drop your checks in a locked mail box, drop box, or other secure mailing box. Or pay your bills online or over the phone. I asked my boss what he does to protect himself and he said he just pays every bill with his credit card, then if there is a fraud on his credit card, he is not out the money until the bank can refund his money, the credit card company is. Just be careful everyone!

Becca's Journal

It is hard to know how to start an article after a month like this. I had so many memorable moments with family, and yet there remained the void in my heart. At the same time I was also happy for those who had passed despite how I knew I would miss them. I'll cherish the memories of playing "Jerk" with Grandma while tasting chocolates and cookies from colorful tins and hiking with Grandpa for petroglyphs along rocks only reachable by grueling off-roading before a hot dog roast and rice crispy munch. Amazingly while everything stopped for a time for us, the rest of the world kept turning, and September ended abruptly.

We bought plane tickets to Brazil and sent in our applications for visas. I'm looking forward to our little adventure. We fly out of Tucson October 13th and come home the Monday after Thanksgiving. The town we will be staying in makes and exports shoes all over the world. Mom, I think that is where those black shoes you wore to the funerals came from. Notice they say made in Brazil? I'm looking forward to going exploring in the shoe mall a mile or so from our hotel. I guess I better work on my "how much is this?" in Portuguese.

Estelle still loves to turbo crawl and growl. She has also become quite cuddly. She kisses me many times throughout the day. Sometimes on my toes and other times on my nose. Whatever she can reach she kisses. She still has a very strong way of communicating through expressing her distaste for certain things: the scream. When she is content, she is the sweetest little person around.

Jonathan's biggest news is he went #2 in the toilet all by himself. Summer's advice worked wonders. I only wish we had thought of that sooner! Thank you Summer!!!! Jonathan tells me now, "I can help because I'm a big boy." And he'll help me with little chores like setting the table and tidying the house. These are things that he has been helping with for sometime now, only now that he's a big boy he does it much more willingly.

That sums it all up, oh except I did get a haircut. Now I don't have to put my hair in a pony tail to get it off my neck. . . Oh yeah, and we bought a car. Another wagon. Only this is the SuperWagon. I can't wait for our next drive to Logandale. . . We love you all!

Melanie's Journal

Dear Family,

September slipped right past me, but it will never pass again without my thoughts turning to Grandpa Whitney and Grandma Doris. It was so hard to be away when Grandpa was sick, then when he passed it was odd/difficult to go to Logandale knowing he wasn't going to drive up on his 4-wheeler with a gallon of orange juice, ready to enjoy Sunday dinner. I will remember Grandpa in his dozer; Grandpa in his truck taking us out to explore the desert; Grandpa making treats for us out of a new cereal each time; Grandpa patiently listening to me play the piano week after week and telling how talented his grandkids are; Grandpa smiling at me telling me how proud he is of his grandkids. Then somewhere along the way, me knowing that I had to live a certain way because I was proud to be his Granddaughter, and I would never let him down.

As sad and as as hard as it was to realize he is gone, I couldn't believe what a great comfort I felt to be with family. I will always remember what Leslie told her mom, "I am sad that Grandpa died and I miss him, but this is sure fun."

Then after the funeral Monday, to drive home to Spanish Fork only to wake Tuesday and hear Grandma Doris passed. I felt so guilty about procrastinating my visit to see her. At least I have fun memories of her "fresh from the freezer" goodies and how she was always teaching us card games. I can still hear her happy laugh in my mind. She was a beautiful woman, and I am proud to be her Granddaughter. It was again such a comfort to be with family and to see relatives I haven't seen for 10 years.

I thought I'd brag a little about these beautiful children. Looking at the pictures of my angelic children, I can't understand how on Earth they can stress me out the way they do. I loved the line in conference last weekend. A women speaker said regarding her grown daughter with small children, "She is at time in her life where her greatest trials are also her greatest blessings." I just giggle everytime I think of that line.

We are making our plans for Mexico. Are the Atwoods the only representatives from our family going this year? Anyway we will take lots of pictures and make everyone jealous.

This is the text of Grandpa Bert's funeral service. Each segment was read by a different member of his family except for his history which was read by his Bishop.

Bishop Berkley Marshall

Bert Whitney of Logandale, Nevada, age 81, died Wednesday, September 7, 2005 in Las Vegas after a brief illness due to complications related to diabetes. He was born June 21, 1924 in Las Vegas to Ralph Emanuel and Doris Elizabeth Nay Whitney.

Bert grew up on a ranch in the Las Vegas area in Paradise Valley. He loved the outdoors and exploring the desert throughout his life. He served in the US Army Air Corps during WWII. On August 20, 1946 he married Anna Christensen in the Salt Lake Temple. Anne was the daughter of Hazel and M.J. Christensen, the prominent statesman and jeweler in Las Vegas.

Bert and Anne lived in California and Arizona while he earned his college degrees and began teaching school. In 1955 they settled in Boulder City, Nevada. They quickly became an important asset to the community as Bert taught school and served in bishoprics in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for most of those years. Many who knew him at that time still call him Bishop Whitney. During this time they became parents of ten children, two sons and eight daughters. Bert continued his education in the summer months, combining family vacations with summer school in Northern Nevada, Arizona and Illinois.

In 1970 the Bert Whitney family relocated to Logandale, where he taught math and English at Moapa Valley High School. He retired from his career in education as a dean. With the exception of four years around the time of his wife's illness and death, Logandale has been Bert's home. Anne preceded him in death on August 2, 1981, twenty-four years ago.

Bert enjoyed helping others in the Church and the community, serving in bishoprics, stake presidencies, Boy Scouts, family history work, and the temple. He faithfully served in the St. George, and then the Las Vegas Temples for over 10 years. Bert used his talents as a handyman and builder to build his family homes and to serve widows and others in the community. He enjoyed 4-wheeling, camping and moving dirt with his heavy equipment. In his later years, he became the glue that held his family together, organizing annual reunions and publishing and distributing a monthly family newsletter which he even posted on the internet. His posterity includes ten children, sixty-six grandchildren, and forty-one great grandchildren. Bert will be remembered as a kind, humble, friendly servant to his family, church and community.

Today Bert's family has gathered here to celebrate his life with the reading of excerpts from his writings in the family newsletter, Glimpses of Heaven, and his personal history. Bert believed that music stirs the soul and invites the spirit. He delighted in the times when his family sang together. To pay tribute to him, they will also share many of his favorite hymns.

Beth

Bert started life with humble beginnings. He grew up sleeping outside with his older brothers. They developed a close relationship with each other. They worked together and played together. He was expected to and responsible for working long hours doing chores and responsibilities. He carried this through the rest of his life, feeling very strongly he should teach these principles to his family by precept and example. Occasionally when we tried to get out of chores by saying that it was Saturday, a day off, he would say, "Read the commandments. It plainly states, "Six days shalt thou labour and do all thy work..." Although we lived 20 years in "town," he always had a garden with accompanying chores for his children and lots of other projects (including building houses) that provided shelter and work for him and his family. Some reminisce of home when they smell fresh baked bread. The scent of newly cut pine and fresh paint brings me home.

From his history Dad writes:

Probably most of you have heard your Uncle Howard and me talk about the summer months we worked at the Superior talc mine on the edge of Death Valley in 1941.

We were in the process of mucking waste and rolling it to the end of the dump in the ore car when I noticed how the slope on the track stopped too soon, and it was necessary to push the car the last 50 feet or so before dumping it. As I began lowering the elevation of the track toward the end of the dump, it occurred to me that if I would overdo the job a little it might be interesting to watch Howard bring out the next load. After I finished lowering the track a little too much, I pushed the ore car back into the mine, planning my strategy as I went.

Trying to act very business-like and helpful, I explained to my brother that I had spent some time adjusting the rails on the dump and had tested the slope and found that you could ride the car all the way and that it would stop at just the right spot to dump the load without any pushing. I tried not to act too eager in shoveling the next load of waste, (two ton, if I remember correctly). Then I casually sat down as if to rest as Howard gave the car a start and then jumped on the back to ride it on out as was the usual procedure. As soon as he was around the first turn in the tunnel, I jumped up and followed far enough behind to be out of sight. I remember he was singing "Riding Down the Canyon" enjoying the reverberations of the natural echo chamber the mine tunnel provided. When he was outside and on to the dump, I crouched in the entrance so that the track on the dump was in my full view. It was a hundred yards or more from the mine entrance to the end of the dump and the ore car kept picking up speed little by little as I had expected it would, but Howard kept on riding, still singing. I expected at any moment he would jump off and drag his feet to slow the car down, realizing that I had tricked him, but he stuck it out, apparently unaware that the car wasn't really going to stop as I had told him it would. He came closer and closer to the end of the track and I began to get worried. Then, just before the ore car hit the barricade at the end, Howard jumped clear as the reality of the situation finally struck him.

The heavy iron car with its contents smashed into the barricade of timbers, scattering them like toothpicks, then continued over the edge of the dump tumbling end over end down its full height making an unbelievable racket which echoed in the surrounding hills, but finally coming to rest in the gully far below.

Obviously, my prank had worked a little too well, and it now didn't seem quite so humorous as the concern for the runaway ore car took over my conscience. Fortunately, Howard took it in good spirits and he helped me calm my fears about the mine car.

Marilyn

In 1946 Bert Whitney married Anna Christensen, creating a new eternal family. Over the next 35 years, there was quite the responsibility involved for these two, raising ten children. While going through his things, I found marked in his priesthood manual the lesson titled, "The Noble Calling of Parents." Underlined at the beginning of the lesson were Pres. David O. McKay's words: "From my father I learned the lessons of work and worship which apply to the moral and spiritual activities as well as the immediate, temporal things. Whatever duty we assume, whatever task, we must do it and give our best to it. My mother's beautiful example has always remained with me also--her gentleness and patience and sincerity." I think all of the children of Bert and Anne would agree that they have had similar thoughts about our own parents. A gift our parents gave us was their example of love and service for one another and their commitment to marriage.

From December 1981 Glimpses of Heaven, Dad wrote:

The married children of our family seem to each have bright futures. New little spirits fresh from on high have arrived, are expected or are anticipated by most all of you, I believe. Such circumstances can only result in increased spirituality in your homes and better lives for each family member. Economic blessings will also follow if you stay close to the gospel principles in your personal and family lives. If you continue to carefully, patiently and lovingly rear your children according to the prescribed plan of the church, leaning on the Lord for additional inspiration for the special needs for your unique family circumstances and the needs of each individual child, the joy sought by all mankind will be yours.

It is good to remind ourselves that the one other most important member in your particular family is your husband or your wife, as the case may be. It is good to see frequent demonstrations of your love toward each other because that's one of the things that makes your marriage grow stronger--and the children will follow along.

Chris

Bert was a pioneer of off road four-wheeling. He loved the desert, he loved to explore it, and he loved to share it. He took the family on many camping expeditions. He used the family's station wagons, vans and pickups loaded to the gills with children to tour even the roughest roads. Since he always put family needs above what he considered luxuries or "wants," he deferred buying off-road vehicles until he came to the valley and had a little more disposable income. His first "off-road" vehicle was a '64 Ford short bed with extra tall tires on the back. With that truck, a pick, and a shovel, he could travel most places he yearned to explore. Later he was able to graduate to 'Big Red,' a three-wheeler. After they invented the 'fourtrax', Bert acquired one. After the death of his beloved wife, he tried softening the grief and anguish he suffered. For years, he searched for peace as he rode and explored on his four wheeler daily. I think we've all ridden the roads he constructed during that period. One of his goals was to visit the Grand Gulch mine. After two unsuccessful attempts, he tried again, with Jack Nelson and Lindsay Dalley in 1985.

From Grandpa's history, titled the "Grand Gulch Jinx."

About five miles out there was certain rise in the road, and when I crested it, at a speed of about forty miles an hour, I knew it was decision time. The road dropped slightly and took a sharp turn to the right. I decided to keep a straight forward approach to the problem hoping to find a soft spot to land among the several rows of boulders I had noticed in the wash I was flying off into. The only other option I could visualize was a sudden hard cut to the right which in my mind had me proceeding in about the same direction, but with the machine in a sideways rolling mode.

I remember landing in an earth-shaking back-flop accompanied by pain of traumatic proportions, then a ride in a whirlpool of blackness, concerned hushed voices saying, "Where is the blood coming from?" and "Help me get these rocks from under his back" when I came to confirmed my fear that the plans for the day would have to be altered. The events that followed, particularly in the hour or so afterwards, were nearly flawless in bringing about my rapid evacuation via helicopter to a modern medical facility with minimum discomfort to me.

Jeni

He added more details to this story this year in June:

I failed to mention that my right arm and upper back were broken, that I had some deep cuts on my head that required many stitches, that my abdominal muscles were torn, (they can never be repaired), and that my four wheeler was wrecked. Lindsay Dalley was attending dental school and had some good medical knowledge which he used in my behalf. While Jack rode his cycle for help, Lindsey went back to the pickup for a mattress to put me on. While they were gone, I remembered how Anne used to sing "I Need Thee Every Hour," when she was in so much pain. I was tucked under a catclaw bush in the shade, but was in a lot of pain, so I began singing the magic hymn and it did help considerably.

In the meantime, Jack had ridden top speed toward Mesquite because I had told him there were no communications at the Nay ranch. But he was impressed to stop anyway. Marilyn Nay saw him ride up to the gate, lay his bike over and go over the gate in one giant leap. After he explained what had happened, Keith Nay said they had just got a short wave radio that day but hadn't had a chance to try it yet. So he called his relative in Meadview, which is near Lake Mead on the Arizona side. When with great surprise, he got an answer, he explained about where the wreck was, and asked his relative to phone a hospital in Las Vegas with a helicopter and send it to rescue me. Keith threw a few old tires in the back of his pickup, which was already loaded with bags of grain, and he and Jack headed back to the wreck site. Jack told me later that Keith, who has only one eye, and consequently poor vision, took out many, many Joshua trees on both sides of the road during that speedy trip. Shortly after they had arrived we could hear the chopper, and Keith and the others had already carried the tires to the top of a nearby hill, doused them with gasoline, and set them afire.

A long pillar of black smoke quickly rose and the welcome rescue crew soon was at my side with a stretcher which they gently placed me on. The nurse attendant said they must get an IV into my arm before they could transport me, but after seven failed attempts to do so, (I have small veins), they decided to take me on my first helicopter ride. It was interesting that as the nurse threw aside the needles she had used, Keith gathered them all up stating that he could use them on his cattle.

By the time we had settled down on the roof of the hospital, the nurse had finally inserted the IV. When they took me to the x-ray room and put me on the table there, they took out the needle. As they left me on the table alone, the severe vertigo I was having, made me feel like I was falling off the table, so I called for someone to hold me so I wouldn't fall. A Doctor Payne came and set my arm, and Clark was there for some much needed support. The office people came and wanted to know what insurance I had, and when I said, "none", they had a quick conference and asked how I was going to pay for the expenses I had already incurred and Clark told them to put it on his credit card. I'm sure I had enough money in my bank account to pay for all of the expenses, even figuring they would keep me there a few days, but to my surprise and delight they told me they were going to give me a pain shot hoping I could make it to the door.

Clark took me to his house and put me on his water bed, where I spent the most painful night of my entire life. The next day I begged him to take me to Logandale where I could sit in the easy chair at Don [Whitney's] where I was staying. It was a few weeks before I could lie on the bed, first a few minutes, then an hour and finally all night. Jack checked on me every day and removed the stitches from my head. I cut off my cast with tin snips, but was riding my four-wheeler again long before that.

[A third party report: Clark told me that when they were casting his broken arm, he was observing the process and as they got close to his hand Dad protested, "Don't cover up my thumb! I need it to run the gas on the machine! ]

Brenda

He taught his family, through example, the importance of humble church service, serving in a variety of callings throughout his life, usually two or three at a time. Although he served in several administrative callings, he was a doer of the word, not just an administrator. He went home teaching to many families and took his sons with him as they became of age. He didn't ask these families, "What can I do for you?" or tell them, "Call me if you need anything..." He found out what they needed and did it. He humbly served people by fixing, building and repairing things for them often enough that they felt comfortable calling him when they needed something. He had a gift of healing and was called upon often by family members and others to receive priesthood blessing. He was an unassuming and humble servant. When he attended grandchildren baby blessings or confirmations, he humbly waited to be asked to participate, assuming nothing.

From Glimpses of Heaven, December 1990 issue, Dad wrote:

[One of] my great social events in the recent past was the stake singles dinner with 60 sisters and 2 brethren. So that I couldn't escape, they asked me to carve the turkey and then I got to say the prayer for the second year in a row. It was a real strain to make it through the evening because of my social retardation. The poor sisters that shared the same table with me were probably even more terrified than I was. As a reward for my valiant effort, I was called as the ward singles leader and sustained today in Sacrament meeting. It reminded me of the story of the young man who told Pres. Kimball he didn't want to go on a mission. Pres. Kimball's response was, "What difference does that make?" Anyway it will kind of be like a calling I've never had before, that of Relief Society President. I'm grateful that I have enough testimony of the church and faith in the leaders to guide me in such situations.

From Glimpses of Heaven, March 1993 issue, Dad wrote:

We have moved into our new stake center this week, and my back still aches from playing "burro-grande" with all the paraphernalia. Now it all has to be organized and put away. I'm glad I can be of some help in the kingdom. My temple assignment is a good one too. Love, Dad & Grandpa

Kenneth W.

His many hours of solace in the desert yielded gems of wisdom. He was constantly sending out little thoughts to his family, in the form of articles for our family monthly newsletter, titled Glimpses of Heaven. Most of it centered around family and relationships, with each other, and with our Heavenly Father.

In April 1990 Glimpses of Heaven, Dad wrote an article titled "Deep Stuff."

During the dedication service of the Las Vegas Temple, my mind and heart were impressed by the spirit of the occasion to the extent that there was a strong feeling that I should share the things that I felt with my family, especially the grandchildren. So to each grandchild I would like to say that the blessings of the temple are manifest in your lives even though you may not have attended the temple to receive your endowments. Since your parents have each been sealed in the temple you are blessed that that you are eligible to become a member of the eternal family of God, positioned in your proper place among the members of your earthly family. To bring about the fulfillment of the conditions of the eternal family each of us must live the principles on which they are predicated. You should want your parents to attend the temple often, and you should do all you can to make it easy for them. If you haven't already noticed, observe and see if they are not more kind and loving to each other after they have been to the temple. Also you will find that they are more loving to you, their children. Each of you past twelve years of age have probably been to the font room of the temple where you were baptized for those who lie on the other side of the veil and did not receive that ordinance during their earth life. I'm sure you feel a great personal satisfaction and renewed happiness when you participate in that activity. It's a very good way to enjoy the blessing of the temple prior to receiving your endowments there and being sealed to an eternal companion.

There are other ways too; those of you who have attended an open house at a temple shared in the spirit of the temple. And when you go with your parents to the temple grounds and talk about spiritual things you can get that blessing of the temple. When you reach the age of sixteen and become more mobile and begin to do some dating, the temple grounds is a good place to go and meditate and ponder the works of God and to converse with your friends in an environment where your thoughts will be in tune with good things and you will be receptive to the promptings of the Holy Ghost. The answers to many of our problems are in and around the temples of the Church. Love, Grandpa

In August of 1990, he wrote: Family unity is one of my favorite things (in case I haven't told you recently) because I believe it is an important element in the formula for security and happiness, the kind that continues on into eternity. (There, I got a little sermon in.) Love, Dad

Jerica

Glimpses of Heaven, May 1994, Grandpa wrote:

We had our stake conference this past weekend with a general authority who was as kind, loving and gentle as any I have ever met. He counseled us to simplify our lives and to try not to load ourselves down too heavily. He said if we find ourselves in that situation, instead of trying to find things to cut out of our lives, start with a clean slate and put only those things into our lives that are basic and fundamental and never add anything beyond the time and finances we have to achieve them, according to our own personal situation and ability.

Clint

Glimpses of Heaven, October 1994, Grandpa wrote:

I hope you all had a chance to hear the general conference talks. As I was listening I was thinking how many of life's heartaches are avoided by members of our family as the counsel of our leaders is heeded. The great peace and happiness that surrounds many of you is evidence of our faith and adherence to the gospel principles. Oh, how I love each of you!

Kimball

Glimpses of Heaven, December 1994, Grandpa wrote:

When there is a loving family to share the things of the season with, it is a happy time. What must Christmas be like for those who have lost the love and shelter of their family for whatever cause. How grateful I am to see or hear of the love espoused in the many units of our large family, as well to feel the unified caring attitude that prevails in the hearts of each person in our entire group

Sheraya

Glimpses of Heaven, January 2003, Grandpa wrote:

My advice for the New Year is not new: Get out of debt; stay out of debt; grow your savings; keep your food storage up to date; live frugally if that is what it takes to do the above. Also, call down the blessings of heaven for your family by obeying the commandments, including temple attendance.

Hazel

Glimpses of Heaven, June 2003, Grandpa wrote:

Did you notice the emphasis on having Family Home Evening in the June Ensign? Actually church leaders have really never ceased to encourage families to use this important tool as a aid to strengthen the home. Then did you have a chance to read the article on the Hinckleys' 66th anniversary? I was impressed by Pres. Hinckley's observation: "If you can live with a good woman through your life and see your children grow to maturity as happy individuals who are making a contribution, then you can count your life a success." Enjoy life; the end is constantly getting closer.

Lindy

Glimpses of Heaven, December 2004, Grandpa wrote:

Unsolicited counsel: When Mormon saw into our generation, he may have been thinking, "NOT AGAIN," so he did his utmost to tell us how to avoid what happened to his people. When reading the scriptures, remember that the church magazines contain the same kind of warning that Mormon gave, which is really important for us. Love, Dad/Grandpa

Annalee

Dad's ward and stake friends and his neighbors were an essential part of his life. He was included in their family events and gradually became Uncle Bert to some "new" nieces and nephews. He rode many miles on the four-wheelers with some of his friends, Jack Nelson in particular, and happy memories were created along with many exciting adventures.

Joy S.

From February 2004, Glimpses of Heaven, Dad wrote:

January was full of fun and adventures! While the lake is down I wanted to go look around at the place Grandpa Cal Nay was killed while digging a well. Vernon Bunker had pointed out the location to me from on top of the Mesa while he was still alive. It was under water at that time. My neighbor, Jack, agreed to go with me, and so we made our way across the mesa, down the Virgin River to about the right location. But the road ended, unless we forged the rushing waters of the river. We had Jack's four-wheeler in the back of the pickup, and he agreed to test the waters with it. It was deeper and swifter than we expected, but he did make it across after going through water up to his seat and nearly getting washed downstream. We thought it would be wise not to try with my truck, but Jack had lost his nerve, (that's a first for him), and he didn't dare come back across. We talked about me going around to Fisherman's Cove and picking him up, but that was too far to be practical. I had decided I would just have to drive across in the pickup, but there was a huge boulder in the water right in the way. I lassoed it with a chain, and I moved it several times with the truck but not enough to get it out of the way. By this time Jack had worked up his nerve and said he would try coming back across. It still took him a long time to actually try it. We rigged a chain from the truck, and he had one on the four-wheeler, so if he got swamped we would connect the chains and pull him out. When he finally plunged into the water, his super driving skills not only got him across the river, but he came up the slippery bank and kept going top speed past the pickup and up the road a ways before he slowed down. I asked him if his throttle was stuck; he said "no" he was just so hyper he couldn't let up.

You would think that would be enough excitement for one day, but we still had to find a way out of the draw we were in. We got down there by sliding down a steep gravel bank which we were sure we couldn't go back up, but weren't worried because we could see several roads in the draw, and we were sure at least one would lead out. While searching for a way out, we came upon a large corral made of pipe, and there was a cow on the ground next to it, with her head stuck between two of the bars, which probably happened while she was reaching in for a little hay that was on the ground inside. She looked in bad shape, so we were going to try to help her by twisting her head into the position that would fit through the pipes. Jack went into the corral, and I was still about a hundred feet away. As Jack approached the cow, she got so frightened, she thrashed around violently and accidentally lined up her head in the right position to free herself. She seemed to want to get revenge for her misery, and I was the only available creature to take her anger out on. She took off on a fast gallop directly toward me, her head down and her eyes blazing with madness. I remembered some things I had learned about animals, so I stood my ground, waved my arms above my head and shouted loud cowboy noises at her, and when she was about ten feet away, she blinked and turned to one side and ran into the brush. Why would anyone ever go to the theme parks for excitement when it exists all around us. Love, Dad/Grandpa

Adele

Sunday, September 4, we, as his children, had the opportunity to gather at Dad's bedside. We felt he was waiting until he heard from us that it was okay to go. The bishop gave him a beautiful blessing, and included in that blessing was the assurance that his family would say "Thy will be done" no matter if he got better or went on. Three days later, during the last few hours of his life, President Asahel Robison came and Dad received another blessing that told him he was released from his body. Pres. Robison said, "Don't be afraid to go on. You have given us a great lesson on enduring to the end through your example of a life well lived. You'll meet your wife and Heavenly Father. They're waiting for you, and they love you. Go home, dear brother; your children are prepared." A tear rolled down Dad's cheek. He maintained his humble polite demeanor and respect for priesthood authority until the end.

This is part of an email McKay sent to his missionary brother Matthias just prior to Dad's death:

McKay W.

Matt,

Last year after I got married, Dad told me that my kids would never know Grandpa Bert. I thought he must be crazy. You know that as you left here, Grandpa was completely independent. He showed no signs of any problem that would be life threatening. The only thing that indicated his age was his trouble with his eyes, and he even got that fixed, one eye at a time.

Chris and I would talk how Grandpa always says things like, "Oh that was a good dinner. I'm always glad to have a good dinner because I never know when it will be my last." And we always think of how crazy he is for saying things like that. Keresa and I have visited and he tells us of all his friends around him withering up with old age, some dying. He says how he knows there is a great line we are all in, and how he would like to be next in line, but he knows this is not a line in which you can cut in front of others, at least not without consequences.

Well he's finally at the front of the line. Turns out Dad is a prophet, and we all move to the next spot in our generation. Soon Dad will be the grandpa over the family, and you will join the rest of us in the parent generation, and your children will have that vague knowledge and strange desire to have been able to know their Grandpa Bert, but not quite able to remember him, like I feel for Grandma Anne Whitney, or MJ Christensen. They'll look to you to give him life: through your memories of him and the stories you have from your personal time with him.

We had an opportunity last night that I'm sorry you won't have. We visited Grandpa in the hospital, . . . He is the epitome of enduring to the end--which is exactly what missionaries must do in times like these. Take time to ponder, pray, speak with your spirit to reach whatever audience will fill your void. Then back to work. I had a great chance to give Grandpa a blessing last night. The best thing about it all was how humble he was. I realized in that moment the generation was about to shift. You and I are no longer children, but examples to the next generation. Independent powerful wise Grandpa was now at the mercy of what others could do for him. Maybe the only words that rang clearly from his lips during my visit were the "amen" after both the anointing and sealing of his blessings. He turned his head to see Sydney as she cooed and laughed toward him. He opened his eyes more often to see her. He even reached up to touch her foot as she excitedly kicked and bounced in Keresa's arms. She has always admired Grandpa for. . . learning new technologies, serving in callings, pushing dirt. How many old guys do you know with satellite radio in their house and design web pages on their computer that they ordered on the internet? That is something I told him in the blessing, that he has given us a great lesson on enduring to the end through his example. How lonely he must have been throughout the last 25 years. But he kept on with memories and strength between reunions with his sisters and children and grand children and great grand children. I guess now there is only the memory of what you were able to share with him. You and I had a special relationship with him that I don't know if the other grandkids had the opportunity to build. We had the chance to spend some good time helping him with projects in the dirt, on his equipment, juicing pomegranates, eating dinner, answering computer questions, and that short time when he helped each of us individually prepare to be missionaries.

It's not sad that he will die, as he is old and his life well lived. - Mk

Jill

One last quote from Glimpses of Heaven:

I have such a great love for each member of our family and marvel at the great blessings we all receive by living the gospel principles and partaking of the ordinances thereof. We seem to deal with the "cup" that is ours whether it is bitter or running over, knowing that we gain strength from gracefully accepting and/or conquering its contents.

Love, Dad/Grandpa

Dedicatory Prayer for the Grave

Offered by Bert's son, Kenneth C Whitney

We are assembled to dedicate this grave. It is a special occasion. Dad has looked forward to this occasion, perhaps prayed for this day. The grave and coffin are now ready for the purposes for which they have been constructed. We are deeply grateful for the plan of salvation, repentance, forgiveness and strength to overcome our weaknesses. We long for the day when we may be worthy to look upon thy face. We know that through obedience to Thy divine commandments, we may return to Thee. Keep us from the decay and servitude which come from sin. Bless us with the light and freedom which come of righteousness. May the memory of this day linger with us always. Let every one of us tell our posterity that we were here at Grandpa Bert's funeral. We were here. We listened to the music, the prayers, the messages, but above all, we felt the Spirit. Today we are storing treasured memories for all the days of our lives. Our Father in Heaven, we come before Thee this day with bowed heads, full hearts, and subdued spirits. Acting in the authority of the Holy Priesthood and in the name of Jesus Christ, I dedicate unto Thee this grave as the final resting place for the imperfect mortal body of thy servant Bert N Whitney. Father, I also take this opportunity to rededicate these graves of his beloved wife, Anne Whitney and his grandchildren Jefferson and Reina, whom Dad is now with. I dedicate the ground in which the grave is located. Protect it from any devastating influence, destruction, or defacement.