I read a story a few weeks back that I felt particularly relevant to Heber in more ways than one.  When Ben Franklin was a young boy, he used to carry all his pennies with him in his pocket.  One day, in town, he noticed a whistle at the toy store.  He really wanted the whistle, so he emptied his pocket and offered the store-keeper all of his pennies for the whistle.  He loved his whistle and was very happy with it, until eventually some of the other boys began to tease him because he spent too much on his whistle.  He had in fact given more pennies for the whistle than it was worth.  He eventually began to feel bad about his whistle and to regret its purchase. 

When I consider people with various addictions or misplaced values, they often suffer the consequences of paying or giving too much for their whistle.  Heber was always true to himself and to others.  He never compromised his standards or adjusted to the crowd.  He never paid too much for his whistle.

Like a 5th brother to me, Heber and I would chat at least every couple months to trade stories, advice, or life events and lessons.  His heart was pure and absent of the usual pride and selfishness that plagues the majority of men.  He was sensitive to others and always sought to make others comfortable. 
Heber loved life.  Most people who knew him can instantly recall at least a handful of stories involving rope swings, climbing something, outdoors, adventure, or exploration.  He lived more in his shortened life than most 60 or 70 year olds. 

Heber is most often known for being playful or fun.  On one trip to a nearby lake, he showed up once at my brother’s house in his Speedo and knocked on the door excited at the prospect of surprising my brother.  When my sister-in-law opened the door he was at least a little shocked and embarrassed.  He also once plucked out a fresh cabbage from his parent’s neighbor’s field and pretended to devour it like a ravenous animal to get some laughs out of my 3-year old daughter.  

There are thousands of stories like this, but less common was Heber’s depth and thoughtful nature.  We would sometimes stay up late into the night philosophizing about principles of nature or of man, or religion.  We also often shared stories with analogies and hidden messages which we used to simplify core principles of life.  After one particular late night of fun, Heber and I began to discuss Heavenly Father’s unique role as master planner for the entire Plan of Salvation.  We explored the idea that Satan filled a key role in the plan, essentially by Heavenly Father’s design, and could only act in as much as his license allowed.  Heber suggested that we end the conversation before somehow we get confused into thinking that Heavenly Father was somehow responsible for any evil in the world.  Heber could recognize truth and was wise enough to avoid thinking too far.

With his pure heart full of charity for others, love of life and of all things good, along with his deep and complete understanding for the core principles of the Gospel of Jesus-Christ, I never knew a person more prepared to meet his heavenly maker.  As James Allen explained, “A noble character and God-like character is not a thing of favor or chance, but it is the natural result of continued effort in right thinking and the effect of long cherished association with God-like thought.”  Heber was a noble character and he did not attain that status with little work or by chance.

Heber was always a person I would like to emulate.  Like Alma the younger and the sons of Helaman in the book of Mormon, one day we will be reunited with him, and our hearts will overflow from our reuniting after many years of labor. 

In the words of Hindu scripture (from Bhagavad Gita);

“Never the spirit was born, the spirit will cease to be never.

Never was time, it was not, end and beginning are dreams.

Birthless and deathless and changeless remaineth the spirit forever.

Death hath not touched it at all, death though the house of it seems.”

Brothers and Sisters, I am humbled and honored to remember Heber with all of you today.

For those who don’t know who I am, my name is Eric Phillips, one of Heber’s friends here in Hawaii.  I’ve actually only known Heber for 5 years.  I was shocked by how small that number is.  Only five years?  Many of you, I’m sure, have known him much, much longer.  And for that, I am envious.   For I wish I’d known Heber much, much longer.  It certainly felt like I did.  It always felt like our relationship stretched far beyond this life alone.   Which may explain why, in the past few days, I have had a hard time pinpointing the exact moment I first met Heber.   Most of you can appreciate how strange that is—not to remember the first time you met Heber Moulton because—well, he certainly leaves an impression.  Heber Moulton has no match.  No pair.  No mold from which he comes.  He doesn’t disappear in a crowd.  He is uniquely, unique. 

My hope today, is to remember with you, just how unique Heber is.

And I do mean is.  Not was.  Because Heber lives.  Not just in memory.  True, he is separated from his body.  But only temporarily.  In the meantime, his spirit lives.  And according to the prophets of God, most specifically Alma in his 41st chapter, right now Heber still possesses the same characteristics and traits we all came to love.  The same qualities, habits, humor…even his quirks…they’re all the same.  

My dad shared a metaphor with me that speaks of Heber’s unchanging nature.  It reads:

“I am standing upon the seashore.  A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean.  She is an object of beauty and strength.  I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky mingle. 

Then someone at my side says: “There, she is gone.”

“Gone where?” 

“Gone from my sight.  That is all.”

You see, She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as when she left my side and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.  Her diminished size is in me—not in her.  And just at that moment when someone says “There, she is gone” there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout—

“Here she comes!” 

Yes.  Heber is the same Uncle Heber my son idolizes.  The same Heber I idolize.  Which is why I will speak of him today in the present tense.

On Tuesday night, my wife and I were trying to figure out why we love Heber so much.  Especially why I love him so much.  We started listing off our favorite traits.  The adjectives came easy and often, as I’m sure they have for you during the past few days.  Here are a few of my favorite Heber qualities.

First, his unmatched “resourcefulness.”  The Master Recycler.  Did you know what Heber used as a dive knife for at least 2 years?  A steak knife, carried in a homemade sheath made of duct tape.  His dive weights, until only a few years ago, were rocks found on the cliffs that he’d fasten to himself with an artwork of string and netting.  When the two of us kayaked the North Shore of Molokai, rather than spend $80 for a paddle, Heber bought two $8 single-blade paddles and duct taped them together.  I made fun of his paddle, but in the water, I was the one always trailing behind.  Or how about his birthday cards?  Heber’ll take ones that people give him, cross out his name, put theirs instead, and give it right back to them on their birthday.  Anyone who’s received one of those cards will tell you they are the funniest cards ever.  To cut down on his grocery bill, Heber cleared, then planted a garden on the side of one of the nearby mountains.  Or how about his dumpster to Craigslist racket?  Heber learned that at the end of the school year, the wealthy Japanese students at UH throw away their stuff, much of which is in great shape.  Heber had no shame.  He’d go get it, then sell it on Craigslist.  Only Olya knows how many thousands of dollars worth.  And then there’s the miracle of his bikes.  Heber never buys a bike, but always has a nice one.  He even found a way to score a free Mac computer—the same model I shelled out thousands for.  And look at the pictures of he and Olya’s travels on the Internet.  Heber’s a student/researcher—Now I realize that within the next six months that status was changing and he was about to get paid very well, but since I’ve known him, his job—in terms of pay—has basically been glorified slavery.  Yet Heber and Olya have gone everywhere: China, Paris, Belgium, Moscow, Mexico, East Coast, every Hawaiian island dozens of times, the list easily eclipses that of people who make 10 times more.     

I remember one story that really sums up his resourcefulness.  We’d just come ashore from spear fishing and some fellow, very expensively equipped divers made light of Heber’s minimalist appearance.  Never one for conflict, Heber walked away, then turned to me and held up his fish.  “But my fish is bigger than theirs, isn’t it.” 

And it was.  And that’s the point.  Heber never lets something like lack of equipment keep him from getting his fish, or getting a Ph.D., or getting a beautiful, talented, and unbelievably kind wife.  Heber is incapable of seeing obstacles.  He only sees challenges.  And he always makes those challenges fun. 

Which brings me to my next favorite Heber quality, and really the one that got me hooked on Heber.  Fun.  Heber is singularly focused on having a good time.  His appetite for fun is never ending.  But it’s not relaxed fun.  Heber’s brand of fun is what I call “sustainable fun.”  Hang out with Heber for a while, and you’ll have a thrill you will never forget.  An experience you can relive in your mind over and over. His idea of fun is not three hours watching a football game.  I tried that once, but Heber made clear that TV is his arch nemesis.  Watching other people’s lives? “SO STUPID!” he’ll say, in his unique Texas-Russian-Local kine’ accent.  Heber doesn’t want to watch.  He wants to participate.  He wants to be the one swimming with the whale.  The one surviving for five days in the jungle with nothing but a spear and handful of rice.  Heber’s brand of fun is a 10-hr hike to the highest peak on the island.  In flip-flops.  Heber’s brand of fun is spraying the local green parrots with a water hose for an hour straight to the eternal delight of my 4-year-old.  Heber’s brand of fun is karaoke, and beach bonfires with friends.   It’s being the life of a 3-yr-old’s birthday party—my wife and I decided long ago that the only entertainment needed for our children’s birthday parties is Heber.  Heber’s brand of fun is the same, simple brand of fun we all loved when we were little, but maybe forgot about when we became too distracted by the petty concerns of adulthood.   Heber’s brand of fun is superior.

Proof of its superiority came this past Christmas.  I spent a healthy chunk on gifts for my son.  Playstation games.  Action figures.  Plastic swords.  But you know what toy he was playing with Christmas night?  What toy he slept with for several nights afterward?  A slinky his Uncle Heber got him at the .99 cent store.  Heber wasn’t being cheap.  He was thinking what kind of toy he’d personally want to play with.  Something that all at once fascinated, entertained and involved him.  It was the perfect gift. 

And it was always the perfect when it came from Heber because it was always thoughtful, which brings me to the next quality of Heber’s I admire.  His kindness.  There are many synonyms for this trait: nice, caring, gentle, considerate, but the bottom line is, Heber puts others first, often when he has no business doing so.  I speculate that he adopted a good portion of this trait from Olya, without a question the most selfless person I’ve ever known.  But nonetheless, in the time I’ve known Heber, he is always doing for others.  My first memory of him doing this was when he took a day off work several years ago to escort me and some out of town friends to a dive spot where they were guaranteed to see sharks.  The cliffy spot was such that, once in the water, there was no way out for another 30 minutes with the current down the coastline.  The water was rough, and five minutes after entering, my two friends began to vomit.  I knew Heber wanted to stay out.  He wanted to spear fish, chase turtles…y’know, do his thing.  He’d missed work so he could do his thing.  So he described for them how to get to the spot where they could get out 30 minutes away.  But when he saw the worry in their eyes, he escorted them, vomit and all, 30 minutes to a safe exit point.  Because of the strong current, that was the end of Heber’s dive, and yet he didn’t show a hint of annoyance.  He never does.  At least not in front of me.  Yet he does things all the time for others at his own expense.  Be it at church, school, or wherever.  In fact, one of the last things Heber did during his lifetime, was drop everything he was doing last Friday, drive to my house in Kapolei, go in and find some documents we needed, and ship them to us in DC at a very high cost. 

I realize many of us do things for others.  That’s clearly evident today by your outpouring of love and support to Heber’s family and friends.  But—at least for me—what makes Heber’s brand of kindness so special is that he genuinely never expects anything in return.  Quid pro quo is a foreign and offensive concept to him.  I’m not just saying this.  I know this, because we’ve talked about this very topic.  This doesn’t mean Heber gets taken advantage of easily.  In fact, Heber is very wary of those kind of situations.  But once Heber believes someone is in real need, or if he believes God—or Olya—want him to help someone, he’ll bend over backwards.  After that, the matter is closed.  Heber loathes social debts or obligations.  Nothing between people, in his opinion, should be forced. 

I remember one time he cleaned my inflatable kayak for me, which is a pain and takes about 45 minutes.  I told him I’d pay for lunch in return. 

“Nah.  No need,” he said.

I argued that there was a need, that’d it make me feel less guilty.  For some reason, this hit a nerve of his, and he went off on a rare diatribe about how I should just say thank you.

“If you give me something for being nice, then I’m not being nice anymore,” he explained.  It was typical Heber logic.  Sound, simple, almost mathematical.  And totally accurate.  Getting something in return for being kind would ruin the purity of his intent.

Which brings me to the final quality of Heber’s that I admire.  The quality of his that I most hope to emulate—Heber’s purity.  Heber never has a secret agenda or a hidden motive.  If he does or says something, it’s because he wants to.  Simple as that.  Free from complex calculations that many adults make in hopes of maximizing their own interests.  In this way, Heber is almost childlike, and maybe that’s why my son loves him so much and so easily.  Because my son recognizes in Heber safety.  What you see, is what you get.  There’s no under current of deceit.

But do not confuse Heber’s purity with being a simpleton, as I think I may have done at first.  Heber understands the complex plots that muddy the waters of humanity.  He just chooses to swim in cleaner waters.  It really wasn’t until our weeklong man trip to Molokai that I fully understood this.  That I realized just how smart and aware Heber is.  We didn’t see any other human for five days, and while Heber may be fine with a weeklong of silence, I am less so.  So eventually I pushed our talks deeper and more personal.  I learned Heber’s views on politics, faith, and love.  They are not simple views.  For example, Heber believes that God lives, that his son Jesus Christ atoned for our sins; that Joseph Smith saw the both, and through their power, translated the Book of Mormon and restored their gospel.  Heber does not believe these things because his mom and dad told him it is so.  Or because it’s easier on his marriage.  Or because being Mormon gives him an automatic circle of friends.  No.  Those reasons would not be sufficient for Heber Moulton.  Too calculated.  Too impure.  He would not keep the commandments as strictly and purely as he does—he definitely wouldn’t choose church over the ocean on Sundays—if his testimony’s roots were shallow.  No.  Heber follows Christ because he has had multiple spiritual confirmations that doing so will bring him eternal happiness.  Many of those experiences happened on his mission, but they have occurred since as well, including through service here at McCully Ward.  Heber’s testimony is born of epiphanies of truth and miracles that he cannot explain away by earthly rationales. 

Heber genuinely believes that only through this gospel, and its many rules and regulations—and let’s be honest, Heber’s not a fan of rules and regulations—but he follows God’s because he knows that’s the only way he will be able to be with his Olya forever.  And that—friends and family—is far and away Heber’s main goal: to be with his Olya for eternity.

He loves her so much.  She is the only person that can tame him.  Get him to wear clothes that don’t come from a thrift store.  Get him to come down from a coconut tree or spend $10 on a movie.  Heber is obsessed with making the most practical and logical choice possible.  We all know this.  But he will bend.  But only for two people.  God and Olya.  On that same trip to Molokai, he told me that he felt he married way above himself, and even admitted that he still wakes up surprised that Olya actually said yes. 

Olya, you will see Heber again and live as husband and wife for eternity.  I do not say this lightly.  Many of us married couples will not be worthy.  But I know you are.  And I know Heber is. 

I know because it says so in the scriptures. 

Ps. 24:3 & 4 reads: 

3.Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? Or who shall stand in his holy place?

Verse 4 answers: He that hath clean hands and a pure heart; who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully. 

The author of those words, David, might as well have written Heber’s name for verse 4, because it describes him perfectly.  Clean hands.  A pure heart.  Not vain.  Not deceitful.  That is Heber Moulton. 

Christ also confirmed Heber’s eternal exaltation in his beatitudes, when he said in Matt. 5:8: 

8. “Blessed are the pure in heart; for they shall see God.”

I know of no other adult as pure in heart as Heber.

I admit, though, that right now, the pain of being away from Heber eclipses the comfort those scripture bring.  Of knowing that we can be together again in the eternities.

This week a relative shared a wonderful quote by Neal A. Maxwell that I want to close with because it really helped me understand this pain.  Why, physically and spiritually, death hurts those it leaves behind.  He said:

“Eventually, the veil that now encloses us will be no more. Neither will time. (D&C 84:100.) Time is clearly not our natural dimension. Thus it is that we are never really at home in time. Alternately, we find ourselves wishing to hasten the passage of time or to hold back the dawn. We can do neither, of course, but whereas the fish is at home in water, we are clearly not at home in time--because we belong to eternity. Time, as much as any one thing, whispers to us that we are strangers here.”  (All These Things Shall Give Thee Experience, p. 11)

And so, brothers and sisters, Heber, unlike us, is back where he belongs in an eternal state, while we must linger in time.  It is our Spirit’s unfamiliarity with this concept of time, of having to wait to be with Heber again, that stings so badly.  But the sting will go away.  Of this, I am certain.

I say these things in the name of He who made that possible, Jesus Christ, amen.

In an early January blizzard the Moulton family traveled from American Fork in Utah to Chicago. In their motel room they slept while the wind howled and the diesel truck engines ran all night so they would not need to be started in the bitter cold of morning. In the previous month, December 1977, Stan had finished his engineering degree at the University of Utah and taken a job with Argonne National Laboratory, just south of Chicago. The family soon made their home in Plainfield, a small town near Joliet. Fall came, and Heber entered the world on 19 September 1978 in Hinsdale, Illinois, a Chicago suburb. Following three boys who each started life bald and only developed a blondish fuzz after several months of age, Heber's arrival with a full head of nearly black hair, long eyelashes and big brown eyes startled his parents, and charmed everyone.

In August, 1982, the Moulton family took a vacation in the beautiful forests of Northern Michigan, canoeing the Au Sable River, and picking high bush blueberries that would put the world's great candies to shame. Then, near the end of the vacation, just as the family completed breakfast, Heber fell into the campfire. His parents pulled him out, brushed the burning coals from his face, doused him with the half gallon of punch on the table and got into the car for a frantic dash to the nearest hospital. As soon as the doctor had bandaged his face and eased the pain, he received a priesthood blessing. Heber stayed in the hospital nearly a month and received two skin grafts. None of the burns had penetrated his eyelids, and his parents were profoundly grateful that he retained his full vision.

During the next few years,the burn scars on his face distressed everyone but Heber, who just cheerfully went about healing. At the recommended evaluation at twelve years of age, the examining surgeon decided against any further surgery because the healing was progressing well. Within a few more years, most people who met him for the first time did not notice his injury. When he received his mission call in 1996 to the St. Petersburg, Russia mission, he was ready to serve without further medical treatment. His accident proved to be only a temporary setback of no long- term significance.

With the addition of Heber's younger sister Merrily in 1981, the family of seven moved to Texas in 1982 and Heber's love of nature soon became evident. In walks around their San Antonio neighborhood, long before Heber would begin school, he noticed all the places toads would find to get out of the summer heat. His parents soon realized that, for Heber, the walks were a process of checking each hole, drain pipe, and culvert to make sure its toad was still there.

Heber's parents had both grown up in small, desert towns and longed for the country. So in 1984, the family bought a few acres near Hondo, a little town about 40 miles west of San Antonio, and moved into a small trailer. Crowded conditions prevailed until 1988 when a larger, permanent home was completed on the property.

In his early teens, Heber acquired a reputation for provident living. Any time his siblings needed a little cash to tide them over until their next allowance, Heber could always advance them a small loan. The interest rates were always reasonable, but strictly enforced.

At home in his teens, Heber tended to be quiet, spending a lot of time reading or working on art projects in his room, and preferring to wrap up in a blanket over getting seriously dressed for meals or even visitors. However, Heber maintained a strong interest in scouting, sometimes difficult in a small branch of the Church, perennially short on adult leadership. His eagle project modeled his developing interest in public safety issues, as he and other scouts and friends placed blue reflectors in the streets of Hondo to mark the locations of all the fire hydrants to help fire fighters to locate the hydrants during night time emergencies.

His parents only gradually came to realize that Heber's quiet manner at home gave only a small part of the picture. They could hardly believe it when people told them that Heber made the party, that he entertained everyone, and could always be counted on for a laugh and a good time. As Heber grew, he rapidly developed a passion for enjoying life, living it to the fullest, and getting everyone else to share in the fun.

In 1997 Heber received his LDS mission call to the Russia, Saint Petersburg Mission. His family immediately began investing in white shirts and heavy, winter clothing. Soon, Heber's letters came with paragraphs about interesting people, people who hungered for the doctrines of the restored gospel. He helped many people. During his mission, he met fellow missionary Robert Hogg who pushed him to improve his Russian language skills and began what became a lifelong, close-as-brothers friendship. One time he knocked on a door and a woman came to the door and said that she was afraid of them and asked them to go away. Later the police came and arrested them for frightening people and they spent the night in a Russian jail. He and his companion also had the experience of performing public service as interpreters for English speaking tourists at the Hermitage, the lavish summer home of the Russian Czars that had become one of the world's greatest art collections.

During his second winter in Russia Heber and his companion met people by walking out on the ice of a large lake near Petrozovodsk, even further north than St. Petersburg and becoming acquainted with people who drilled holes in the ice for fishing. His father, concerned with the coming of spring wrote and asked if the ice was still thick enough to be safe, and he replied that, yes, the ice was thinning, and was down to about one meter (39 inches) thick.

Soon Heber's mission came to a close and he returned home to Texas with sets of the beautiful, hand painted Russian dolls that stack, one inside another for the girls in his family. He brought some books including some by the great masters of Russian literature including Tolstoy. But most of all, he brought with him the joy that comes with having accomplished something of real worth to our Heavenly Father, and he brought a profound, enduring love for Russia, its culture, its language, and its people.

Heber began school after the family moved out to the 8 acre plot of land about 2 miles southwest of Hondo. His teachers found this mischievous boy with the innocent face and big brown eyes at once charming and exasperating. Heber was much better about remembering incidents than names, so he always began with "This one kid..." as in "This one kid ate a worm today." For a couple of years, his family was treated several times each week to a wild "This one kid" story when Heber came home from school.

Heber's favorite classes were art and band, which was the social hour. In a school where football is king, he found his niche elsewhere, in track and cross country. He graduated from Hondo High School in 1997 without any particular honors, but with a pair of large, black horn-rimmed glasses worn over a large plastic "Groucho Marx" nose, to the delight of his classmates who could see it, but to the consternation of the administration who could only see his back as he entered. Following his graduation he began working to save money for his mission.

After returning from Russia, he resumed his education at Ricks College, Now Brigham Young University - Idaho, where he received an associate degree. Then he completed a bachelor's degree in business from BYU - Hawaii in 2003. Next, he completed a master's degree in business administration from Hawaii Pacific University in 2005. He continued his education at the University of Hawaii and was making final preparations for completing the PhD degree at the time of his death. He will be listed as the second co-author on a soon-to-be-published major study on seat- belt safety in Hawaii.

In the summer of 2009, Heber was selected for a highly competitive summer internship at the United States Embassy to Russia in Moscow. He helped with preparations for and actual behind the scenes work for the visit of President Obama to Russia that summer. While there, he acted as interpreter for a group of American farmers who came to Russia to exchange firsthand experience. To their delight, he found that many of them were from the town of Pearsall, a small South Texas Town near his home town of Hondo.

In 2003 Heber completed his degree at BYU - Hawaii, and notified his parents that he had purchased a ticket to San Antonio. But when his parents inquired about Heber's arrival, they got vague answers, then unexplained delays. They later found out that as Heber walked out the door at BYU, a beautiful young lady from Russia came walking in. They met, and Heber rapidly developed a serious interest. Heber did not use that airplane ticket. Instead, he enrolled at Hawaii Pacific University, and remained close to where Olya lived.

A year later, in August 2004, Heber and Olya traveled to Texas. Olya's parents came from Russia to be with their daughter. The couple married in the Houston, Texas LDS temple in a beautiful ceremony promising their sealing together throughout eternity. Even death, now, could cause no more than a temporary separation. They posed for wedding and family photos in the pretty gardens surrounding the temple, in accord with long standing tradition. They took frequent breaks from the heat by spending a few minutes inside the foyer gulping ice water, then they would dash out and put on their jackets and smile for a few more photos.

After the wedding, the entire group traveled 250 miles back to Hondo, for a ring ceremony and a party. The Mormon Bishop in Hondo at the time, Doug Derrick, spoke Russian and interpreted. The family hired an excellent harp player who played sweet, romantic melodies, and they served a light dinner featuring a peach juice drink made from home grown peaches. The two families became friends.

From that day on, Olya has been the light of Heber's life. She has ever been by his side in times of stress, and she continually encouraged Heber to achieve and grow and develop his talents and abilities and to be everything he could become. In the seven years they have been married, they traveled to Europe, Asia, Russia, and Mexico and had many unforgettable adventures together. Olya misses him dearly, and he, I am sure, misses her equally.

Heber is survived by his wife Olga Vladislavovna Bogach Moulton; his parents, David Stanley and Lillis Whipple Moulton, his brother Travis Kent Moulton and wife Lucia Gebarra-Rios Moulton with children Melanie, Jonathan and Joshua of Los Alamos, New Mexico; his brother Wade Oliver Moulton and wife Heather Caldwell Moulton with children Dallin, Jared, Grant, Aubrey and Eric, in Vernal, Utah; his brother David Isaac Moulton and wife Vanda Fereirrihno Moulton with children Jessica and Thomas in Manvel, Texas; his sister Merrily Moulton Cannon and husband Adam Cannon with children Paul and Seth in American Fork, Utah.

Heber lived life to its fullest. He saw some of the world's greatest art, he strolled the streets of Beijing, he changed people's lives, he swam with whales, he experienced international diplomacy up close, he kayaked the entire north shore of Molokai, and he loved his sweet heart dearly. It is his father's conviction that Heber will continue in the world of spirits with his same personality and passions, and though his death is hard now, like his campfire accident, it will eventually prove to be nothing more than a temporary setback of no real or lasting significance.