To My Friend, Alyn Beck

On Sunday, June 8th, my good friend Alyn Beck was killed in the line of duty. Our families had been friends for 12 years. In fact, Alyn taught my son, Garren, to waterski. He also taught my daughter, Abbie, how to shoot. He taught me that you can be strong enough to bench press a school bus and still be a gentle soul.

Alyn’s death garnered national attention, and the story is very public and widely known. You can look up the details on the Interwebs, if you aren’t familiar with the tragedy. But if you want to know the thoughts of his family - if you want to feel compassionate, sad, wounded, uplifted, hopeful, heartbroken, and pulled upwards - Alyn’s wife, Nicole, started a blog where she has chronicled her experience. You can find it here: Trying To Be AlynStrong.

I love Nicole. She is one of the strongest individuals I’ve ever known. She has immense faith. She is genuine. She is a loyal cheerleader to her friends and family. She is so very conscious of others. The decision for her to share her story was not something she was naturally planning to do. She is private and protective. But her experience is so much in the public domain, she felt impressed to do so. (I think she still goes back and forth on this; so if you are interested in reading, you may want to take that opportunity sooner rather than later.)

This is the Beck’s experience, and I am careful not to discuss anything above and beyond what Nicole shares. But I do have just a few personal memories I wanted to write down, to pay tribute to my friend and to the Beck family.

First, the day it happened. I started getting texts from a number of friends in Las Vegas that Sunday afternoon. Like anybody else who loved the Becks, I just wanted to be in their living room and somehow ... do ...  something. I felt helpless. I just paced around my house.  Having moved to Utah and being a state away made me feel even more useless. I was restless that night, prayerful for Nicole and her family. Still in denial, really. Being physically separated by miles made everything more surreal and easier to not process or face.

It was Monday evening when I got a phone call from a dear friend of mine, Nicki, who also happened to be a close friend to the Becks. She told me that she’d just come from Nicole’s house and Nicole asked if I would write Alyn’s eulogy.

And that’s what broke me.

I just started crying. It was more than the reality of what was happening. It was this response to an unuttered prayer. I was unsure of how to do something for the Becks that would demonstrate I was thinking of them, that I cared about them, that I loved them, that I wanted to be there…and it was as if Nicole simply said, “Here. Here is a way.” I was humbled and honored and overwhelmed and grateful. What a sacred privilege.

I won’t post the entire eulogy, but here are the last few paragraphs.

Alyn took great pride in his commitment to public service. He was brave and dedicated; a courageous soul who loved freedom and liberty. He was a man who worked diligently for the welfare, safety, and interest of others. He was a protector and defender of our homes, our property, our neighborhoods, and our lives.

Of even greater consequence, Alyn was a keeper of an oath he made as a disciple of the Lord Jesus Christ. Alyn had a profound faith in the Savior, and as such, his character elevated those around him, inspiring them to choose a better way. He was an example of someone who lived by his spiritual convictions and knew what mattered most in life. As observed by many, Alyn was fiercely loyal to his greatest friend and cheerleader – his wife, Nicole. He was an attentive and devoted father to his son, Daxton, and daughters Avenlee and Katriann – who at nine months old, held her dad in the palm of her hand.  

He touched many lives. He saved many lives. His dedication was unshakeable. His course was unswerving. And his compassion was unending. Alyn was true to the cause of creating a better, safer and more secure life for everyone. He never wavered. He always went the extra mile. He will be remembered lovingly for his many kindnesses, his wonderful sense of humor, his extraordinary intelligence, his deep spirituality, and his profound testimony of and devout love for his Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

I also wanted to quickly share two experiences I had with Alyn, which happened in the presence of nobody else, and I’ve kind of held them close. They aren’t especially unique, if you know Alyn, but they are mine. I mostly wanted to share them with Nicole.

So, our stake was doing a community-wide service project one Saturday. Alyn and his son Daxton were working with me and my son, Garren, to make some updates to the high school’s baseball field. The next day, at church, I texted Alyn.

Me: Alyn, it was great working alongside you yesterday. You're a good man. I appreciate your friendship. Also your wit and work ethic. And thanks for having a son who is a good friend to Garren. I really appreciate your family. Thanks for all you do.

See, I’m a bit of a gusher. Alyn is not. Alyn’s response?


Alyn: You probably shouldn’t text during church.

HA! That made me L right OL. He texted right back again, with some warm and kind words. But I loved that he saw the opportunity to make the funny, and that he knew I’d get it. I love that part of Alyn.

My other favorite memory of Alyn was also at church. It was my privilege to be Alyn’s bishop for a time. I once asked him if I could meet with him after church, to ask him to serve our ward in a new capacity. He had been serving in the Sunday School Presidency, and he really enjoyed it. He wasn’t eager for a change. He reluctantly came into the bishop’s office and, because we were also friends, he very informally said, “Ah, man - I don’t want a new calling.” Sensing he wasn’t thrilled, and wanting to play along, I responded, “Well, Alyn - I was just hoping to call you as the Ward Ninja.”  He gave me this very faux-stoic game face and answered, “I accept. And we shall never speak of it again.”

And we never did. Which means nobody else ever knew about it. Which means even after I moved, Alyn was not released from his calling. Which means that now, next year, and forever more, Alyn will be the Elk Ridge Ward’s Ward Ninja.

That seems like a perfect assignment for him. There was something so comforting and reassuring knowing Alyn Beck was on your side. I never called him for help but that he didn’t come running. That’s how you knew he loved you. A good man, who I was privileged to love like a brother. I will miss him until I see him again. And I know I will.

For those who haven’t seen it, Alyn’s funeral services were publicly broadcast. Here are a few of those moments that left lasting impressions on me.

1) One of the men I admire most in this world, President Tracy Truman, paying tribute to Alyn and teaching the doctrine of the resurrection.

2) Elder Terry Wade, an area seventy in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, teaching of a Heavenly Father's love, the Plan of Salvation and sharing a letter written to Alyn, by his beautiful daughter. I recommend watching it, but if you just want to read one of the most powerful testimonies I've ever heard - here are the words from the letter written by Alyn's 11-year old daughter, Avi, the night her dad passed away.

Dear Daddy,
I love you. I’m going to miss you a whole bunch. I can feel you here with me though. I know that I will see you again though because you were married in the temple. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of Mommy for you. I know you always say that. I wish that I could have said goodbye to you. I will always be thinking of you. I’ll see you in heaven! I think that this is just one of those trials for our family to get stronger. 
Love, 
Avi
P.S. I love you so much. 

And to Nicole, I share a quote that has probably already been shared by everyone you know:

In the gospel of Jesus Christ you have help from both sides of the veil, and you must never forget that. When disappointment and discouragement strike--and they will--you remember and never forget that if our eyes could be opened we would see horses and chariots of fire as far as the eye can see riding at reckless speed to come to our protection. They will always be there, these armies of heaven, in defense of Abraham's seed.” ― Jeffrey R. Holland, Created for Greater Things

Mending Quarrels & Forgotten Friends

I was in college during the short nine months that Howard W. Hunter was president of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I have two memories of him speaking. First, I remember his words that we - the members of this Church - should be a “gentle people.” I wrote it down. I committed to be a gentler person. I am still trying. And failing. And trying. 

The second thing I remember was when he spoke at the First Presidency Christmas Devotional on December 4, 1994. It was President Hunter’s last public address. He said: 

This Christmas, mend a quarrel. Seek out a forgotten friend. Dismiss suspicion and replace it with trust. Write a letter. Give a soft answer. Encourage youth. Manifest your loyalty in word and deed. Keep a promise. Forgo a grudge. Forgive an enemy. Apologize. Try to understand. Examine your demands on others. Think first of someone else. Be kind. Be gentle. Laugh a little more. Express your gratitude. Welcome a stranger. Gladden the heart of a child. Take pleasure in the beauty and wonder of the earth. Speak your love and then speak it again.

Isn’t that a great list? I love that list. I read it every December and try to focus on it as part of the season. Because once I hit January, and I’m forced to go a month without sugar, all bets are off, people. 

20 Years Later

In 1993 my friend Eric D. Snider founded The Garrens Comedy Troupe. In 1993 my roommate/former mission companion/best friend, Lincoln Hoppe, forced me to audition with him for The Garrens. In 1993, I watched my future wife, Katie Fillmore, audition and join The Garrens. In 1993....it all began.

You know how you have that friend who you just don't get to see very often? You are separated by distance and the busyness of life, and it all gets in the way of what you really want to do - which is design a neighborhood where you get to live next door to each other. But when you DO get together, everything picks up as if no time has passed. There is no awkward small talk. It all just clicks.

Well, imagine having 25 of those friends. And that's what this weekend was. Even with those Garrens who I never had the privilege of working with - because they came in the later years after I was gone - it was like we had this experience we all pulled from that connected us. It was like...whatever the opposite of "serving in Vietnam together" is.

We had The Garrens 20th Anniversary Reunion Show on Saturday night, and it was spectacular! We all came together Friday night for dinner at BYU's Skyroom. Garrens alumni came from Florida, New York, South Carolina, Washington DC, Oregon, California, and Salt Lake City. The stories, tributes, and memories brought back all the feelings. I remembered how wonderful those years were - the creative energy and the people who I got to be creative with. The life-influencing friendships that abounded. I remembered how coming together to put on shows felt like coming into a shared living room. It was familial. It was a safe place. There was encouragement, acceptance, and hilarity. It became a part of my being.

It was my privilege to pay the final tribute to Eric on Friday night, at the dinner. As I stood in front of a group made up of some of my favorite people, I wished I had the time to pay tribute to each of them, individually. It felt like there was so much to say. But it also felt like there were not words to articulate all those feelings and sum up all those experiences and define their influence in my life. I love these people. And to go will just make this sound suuuuuper sappy. (Too late?)

Thank you to everyone who has been part of The Garrens! Thank you to everyone who worked countless hours to bring this show to light on Saturday! Thank you to those who traveled, sacrificed, and brought their all! Thank you to everyone who came to the show and celebrated with us! Some of you traveled from out of state - you crazy, wonderful people! Thank you! And our apologies to those who didn't get in because the almost 900-seat theater was SOLD OUT! YEAH!!!

Winter 1993

Fall 1993

Winter 1994

Fall 1994

Fall 1995

I love you.

I am a part of all that I have met. ~ Alfred Lord Tennyson

Do you remember the 1996 Academy Awards when Cuba Gooding Jr. won Best Supporting Actor? It’s right here, thanks to the miracle of YouTube. I don’t remember if there was much backlash afterwards, regarding his enthusiasm; but I remember in the moment the whole world was excited about his excitement. It was contagious, listening to him humbly express love and gratitude for his wife, for those that had worked on the movie with him…and then, almost comically but sincerely, for everyone in the room, and then the whole world! All of humanity! “I love everyone!” he enthusiastically shouted.

I have frequently felt like that throughout this year. Minus two things, I suppose: First, I’m not being awarded anything, and second, I don’t even have a fraction of the love for Tom Cruise that Oscar-winner Cuba does. But for various reasons, I have felt a profound appreciation this year for the people in my life; from my family to my friends to acquaintances to people I don’t know who read this blog! Bless all of you! From family and friends who have showed up, un-summoned, at the precise moment they were needed with words of encouragement, acts of kindness, written sentiments, sanity-saving service, and the words “I love you.”

I did not grow up watching It’s a Wonderful Life. I was actually in college the first time I saw it. I watch it every year now, and each time, without fail, I have a lump in my throat the entire movie. From the opening scene when George Bailey’s friends and family are fervently praying on his behalf, to the end when loved ones are pouring into the Bailey home, freely pledging their love, friendship, and trust to save the life of their dear friend.

I love the way George instinctively sacrifices for the benefit of those he loves.

I love the way he stands by his convictions.

I love the way he is affectionate with his children and friends.

I love the way Mary reminds me of Katie; the way she assumes the best about him in spite of his occasional grumpiness, the way she works to make their lives wonderful.

I love the way a young Mary whispers, “George Bailey I’ll love you until the day I die.”

I love the themes of our lives being sources of good and light, for each other.

I love the oft-quoted lines, “Each man’s life touches so many other lives. When he isn’t around, he leaves an awful hole,” and “Remember no man is a failure who has friends."

I never watch this movie without thinking of the individuals in my life who have affected me and influenced me for good. My conviction is that I have been blessed throughout my life with knowing some of the finest people on the planet. Beginning with my parents, the first people to hold me, and certainly including my favorite, the one who of her own free will decided that spending eternity with me would be a good idea. And of course the seven additional souls living in my home.

Siblings, in-laws, neighbors, loved ones, and friends. I am richly blessed, beyond anything I deserve, with friends who invite me in and share their lives with me, and likewise are interested in my own. 

Maybe it’s the season, or per chance it’s a casualty of moving from one state and settling in another, but I've had the opportunity to readily and frequently express love over the past few months. Perhaps there are those that feel the phrase “I love you” should be used sparingly. Or only for family or maybe those we love romantically.  Maybe some feel that to hear it used often makes it sound phony. Or that it’s uncomfortable. I don’t know. For me, I love to say it. It stirs up feelings of gratitude and comfort, of appreciation and compassion. It helps me be mindful that my actions, even my life, will provide the evidence of what I am saying. And I’m grateful for that.

I love everyone! I am so grateful for everybody! I wish I could specifically tell each of you why, and I gladly will if you ask! Please go watch It's a Wonderful Life and think of all those you have influenced! Including me! And please enjoy this clip below, from the movie Love Actually. It's usually available and heavily-edited on TBS this time of year. This is all you need to watch from this movie - the opening closing scenes - shots of random, non-actors at Heathrow Airport. Watch it here. 

An Ode to Friendship

So, the Craig Family just picked up and, after 14 years of living in Las Vegas, Nevada, we moved to Utah.

Fourteen years is a long time. I was in my 20s when we moved to Las Vegas. Katie and I had this discussion when we moved there in 1998: “We’ll stay two years, and then head somewhere else.” “Agreed.”

We arrived on August 10^th, Katie’s birthday. We had Abbie, our Civic hatchback, and a small moving truck. Everything we owned fit into our little two-bedroom apartment, with  space to spare. Two and a half years later, when we were supposed to leave Las Vegas, we had Garren, our first house, a new job, wonderful friends, and Connor on the way. We decided to stay. Five years after, that we had also had Roxanna, Tanner, a mini-van, a new job, a new house, and even more wonderful friends. We decided to stay. Six years after that we had Becca and Lucy, a 12-passenger van, the same house, a new job, a calling as bishop…and even more wonderful friends. We decided to stay.  

Then, change was in the air. We felt tugging and nudging and we knew that it was time to leave. And we knew we would miss our home and the familiarity of the life we created in Las Vegas. And most of all, we knew we would miss those we loved.

We attended Stake Conference on Sunday, September 23, the day before we loaded a much larger truck.  Bruce Ballard, president of the Las Vegas Temple, and his wife were speaking. Fourteen years ago, he happened to be serving as the ward mission leader in Desert Shores Ward, and I was a ward missionary, serving with him.

Katie and I visited with the Ballards after the conference. I love President Ballard. He has an earnest, quirky nature, and a brilliant mind. He quotes scripture randomly and from memory, he is fascinating, and he is a thoughtful and pondering soul. I’m proud to know him. When I told him we were moving, he said something that comforted me and settled on my heart so easily, I felt confident it was true.

He essentially said, “We’ll miss seeing you; but I know we’re eternal friends. Doesn’t that seem to be part of the Plan? Just looking at it in terms of celestial economics, why would the Lord let the relationships we make in life go to waste? Why wouldn’t He put all those relationships to use in building His kingdom and working together? It just makes sense.”

It does make sense. Father is not a wasteful Being. He is all-knowing, all-powerful…and He has commanded us to love each other. Why would He want us to love each other if these relationships were not for enduring and eternal good? Why would something as wonderful as our friendships not be eternal?

Many of my friendships have changed my life. They have been productive and worthwhile. They have comforted and sustained and inspired me to be better. They have magnified and swelled and filled me. They have uplifted and edified me. From my immediate family to friendships in college, my mission, my career, my neighbors, and my wards.

I know things will be different now that we have moved away from our Vegas Family of Friends. I know we won’t know all the daily or weekly details –and I will miss that – but for me, there will be no weakening of the foundation of my relationships with friends, family, and loved ones. Not in those friendships where it matters not one iota how long it’s been since our last conversation – a day, a month, a year – and our familiarity and love and history, our eternal friendship, makes it as if no time has passed.