On the way back from the Indian Ruins when we got lost in the dark, I was riding in the front seat with Devon. It was too cold to ride in the back of the pick-up with everybody else - this silly Utah girl had come to Arizona in the winter without even a sweater. As we drove around those steep, rough and bumpy dirt roads - often in circles - Devon told me of another adventure at a different local ruin which was more remote and more difficult to access. He had made that trek with a friend. At the top of the mesa, Nature called, and Devon answered. His friend warned him not to do it - they were in a sacred place and the ancient spirits would be angry and would curse him if he did. Disbelieving, Devon relieved himself anyway. He told me that shortly afterward, he broke out in a really awful and inexplicable rash that lasted for days. 

At Devon's memorial, family and friends got up to eulogize Devon, and they each told a "true" story about Devon valiantly saving them while succumbing to the threat himself. Every story ended with "Too bad, the [fill-in-the-blank] got him."  I was just getting up to tell my story when the zookeeper politely announced that we needed to close. So I'll end my story now as the others did: "I learned from Devon of the importance of respecting other cultures. It's just too bad that the ancients got him after all."

I love you, Devon.

Waiting for Bruno Mars

We caught a Vegas show at the Bellagio. It was Bruno Mars! Bruno asked for a volunteer from the audience and they chose Devon! It must have been because of his cool moves while we were dancing in the foyer before the show started. Devon wasn't even nervous! Look at him go!

I consider myself the 6th Suddarth kid because I grew up spending so much time with the family. One of my earliest memories of Devon was as a child on a sleep over at their house. Amy and Christa raved about how good of a story teller Devon was and begged him to tell us a story. We were snuggled up outside under the stars and he rambled on and on with a detailed tale about a charecter he made up called Gloria the Super Dog. I remebered having so much fun in that moment as they shared their sweet family with me.

One of the last memeories I had of Devon was a trip to Oregon in 2016 with Lori, Christa, my husband and 1 year old son. I feel so fortunate that my son got to spend time with him and seeing light in Devon's eyes each time he held my baby boy is something I will treasure always. Nevermind blood, Devon was my son's grandpa.

When Christafer was a baby, Devon wrote a program for her that made each key play a different musical note - sweet 'music' from baby fingers pounding on a keyboard! Look where that led - to her very own website where she shares her original songs. 

I always wanted to go boat camping on Lake Powell so we planned a trip for the summer of 1999.  We invited Devon's family to meet us there and they all wanted to go.  We trailered our boat all the way from Seattle to the Bullfrog marina in Utah.  Devon was launching from Wahweap in AZ a week after we got there.  So the day arrives when we are to meet up.  They had to travel about 50 miles to get up to where we were so we headed out to go find them.  After several hours I spotted a boat a long ways off that looked like his but it was the wrong color.  I was sure it was him but not positive so we headed toward them.  They saw us headed their way, still too far away to identify each other, so they took off.  We chased this boat up the lake for 15 minutes or so and couldn't catch it.  Now I'm begining to think it's not them but still tried to catch up.  Finally he slowed down and we got near enough to see it was Devon and family.  It turns out he thought it was some weirdo coming after him.  So we all had a good laugh and everyone jumped in the lake. So we are all in the water talking and having a good time when one of the kids said "hey look, the boats floated away".  We turn to look and sure enough both boats have drifted at least a hundred yards from where we were.  So Devon swam to his boat and me to mine and picked everyone up.  We had a pretty good laugh over that.  We had so much fun exploring the lake that we did it again a couple years later after we moved to AZ.  Good times.

We decided to climb a random peak of rocks somewhere in the desert.  On the way up Devon scared out a mother havalina and three babies from a dry creek bed and they came tearing up the mountain right towards me.  I couldn't run because of all the cholla jumping cactus, but they ran right past, probably didn't even know I was there.  We got to the top and ate our (by now soggy) Subway sandwitches.  It was a difficult climb up so we decided to take an "easier" way down -- pictured.  Right after this picture began a forest of jumping cactus, like every few feet.  It was like a maze to get through.  Another great memory.

There was a night when things in my life were a little crazy and so I asked Bryn if I could spend the night at her house being the Sudarths they let me come over and asked if I needed to stay longer (I didn't).

So while talking to Bryn, Devon just starts gettting wood and things and going outside. 

I asked "What's he doing?" And Bryn said,

"When people come over we just have a fire."

And I'm like "Why?"

"We just do."

It was a good tradition. We had smores and told ghosts stories. Devon told me how he and Lori lived abroad and how the kids thought they were outsmarting them by learning French when their parents already spoke Spanish. 

The next morning I remember Devon asked me about four times if I wanted waffles. (I think he knew I was down for food but I didn't want to impose any more than I had.)

Even though I met and spoke with him several times this is what sticks out. It wasn't about the waffles it was about how he asked, how he let me into his home, how he and his family made all the little things good for one night. 

Thank you, Devon. 

Sometimes the little things matter most.

I went to a steakhouse with my dad for lunch one day and our waitress was a black woman a few years younger than my dad. She approached our table and politely introduced herself. The very first thing my dad said to her was, “What’s good?” What he meant was, “I’m hungry. What is good to eat on the menu?” But that’s not how our waitress interpreted it.

She stuck out her hip, looked at him out of the side of her eyes and said, “What’s your name?” In his typical fashion, he introduced himself as “Larry.” The waitress then began behaving very flirtatious towards my dad. When she left our table to get our drinks, my dad looked at me as if to say “What just happened?” I had to explain that “What’s good” is another way of saying “What’s up” and she probably thought my old man was trying to use hip lingo to flirt with her.

“I needed information today and I was told to talk to Gay Bash. I looked all over the seating chart and walked all around looking for him. I finally stopped one of my bosses in the hallway asked him where I could find Gay Bash. Gay Bash happened to be in earshot and said ‘that’s me.’ So we talked for a while and I looked his badge. His name was Gabriel Ashe. Do’h!”

I am Devon's sister in law. Way back in 1986 when computers were still relatively a new thing, my hubby Gary and Devon went into business together selling software and hardware to medical offices. The software (written by Devon, researched by Gary) was for weight loss support. Devon was pretty much a genius when it came to computers. Five of us (Lo & Devo, me & Gar, and baby Christafer) flew to Las Vegas for a convention and the boys sold their stuff there while the girls met an old friend and toured a historic granite quarry.

One of my visits to Phoenix.  Mom and I met the Suddarth family at a restaurant and I tried to get pictures of each of them, but oh no not so fast.  This is the We-Don't-Take-Normal-Pictures-Family.  EVERY picture of each of them is crazy face.  Here's Devon's crazy face.

I am Devon's brother-in-law.  I admire him.  He has many qualities I would like to have.  I remember he built several houses in the desert.  I suppose he just shrugged his shoulders and said how hard can it be, and just did it.  He built a water purification system which he installed in Mexico.  He raised primates. He raised bees and extracted his own honey and pollen.  By the way, he gave me two jars of pollen (bee parts and all) and after finishing both jars off I never had hay fever again.  That's the truth to this day I have not had hay fever!

We had good times with him and his family.  I remember flying to Lake Havasu in my dad's airplane with dad, Devon, Lisa and Christa.  Us guys did some work on the condo while the girls played.  On the return flight we tried to slip past a thunder storm got caught in an updraft going 10,000 feet per minute UP!  We dove the plane with engine off and red-lined the airspeed in the dive, and even so we were still being sucked upwards at 3,000 ft per minute!  Finally flew out of the updraft and leveled it out.  Whew!

We visited them at their home in the desert and he took us to explored some Native American ruins behind their house.  We drove out in Devon's truck then hiked to the top of a hill where there were the remains of the Native American homes who lived in the north Phx area several thousand years ago.  We got lost on the way back and it got dark.  Devon took some roads I thought would tip the truck over.   Good times.

I'll add some photos in the Gallery.

Hi Linda!

Sorry about the pseudonym, I'm Devon Suddarth of the Jud and Delaine Suddarths (Steve's brother).

I kind of feel sorry for myself that I've missed out on your life. From what I see, you are happy and living your life in a very healthy way with a great attitude.

There was a time in the early 80's when I held you, talked to you, and felt like you were my best friend in the whole world. I'm really sorry that I lost that with you. Believe me, it's my loss much more than yours.

I have 5 grown kids. Four girls and 1 boy. I'm certain they would all love you. They have all grown into amazing, interesting, kind people. I feel incredibly lucky to have 5 kids that all like me

and talk to me at least once a week. I can't begin to tell how proud I am of each and every one of my kids.

I just wanted you to know, that long long ago, I loved you like you were one of my own. I'm sad that I lost contact with you. I'm happy that you found happiness in life.

Don't feel like you are obligated to respond to this. ...just know that there was a time when I came home from work, you greeted me with big smile and open arms, and you made me feel loved.

love, Devon Suddarth

This was forwarded in a text from my aunt Paulette.

Hi Paulette, a few weeks ago, my family and I took the aerial tramway to the top of San Jacinto (the mountain between Riverside and Palm Springs). All 5 of my kids, plus Amy's husband, and my current wife Lori were there. We hiked into the forest and found an empty amphitheater. We all sat down to rest and relax. Dana spontaneously stood up and declared herself to be the "master of ceremonies" and introduced Amy as the first performer. Amy stood up and sang and danced a Disney song. Subsequently, each and every one of us stood up and performed some form of our perceived talent. I sang Queen's "Somebody to Love". It was among the best memories of my life. All I could think was that I wish Terry and Paulette and their kids were there.