In Memory

Ed Stover

Ed StoverOn March 19, 2014 Ed ended his six month courageous battle with cancer. Not once did Ed complain or question his goal of surviving long enough to be here for his daughter's wedding on March 15, 2014. He was born on June 8, 1943 in Portland, Oregon to William M. and Dorothy Phelps Stover. He is the older of two sons. He was raised in Salt Lake City, Utah and spent most of the summers in his youth at his aunt's home in Portland, Oregon. He was a proud graduate of South High School. Ed married Carol Joy Evans on November 19, 1965. Ed spent his 30 year career working for the City of Salt Lake at the Water Reclamation Facility. He served proudly in the Army Reserves and retired with over 20 years of service. Ed was part of a Retired Friends Wednesday Lunch Group which was the highlight of his week. He also enjoyed going to the movies, playing Call of Duty online and going to car shows with his grandsons. Ed was a good friend; he cherished and valued his friendship. He is survived by his wife Carol, his brother Jim, his children, Carrie (Jeff) McNalley and Troy (Curtis Grow) Stover, by his three grandsons, Tyler Sackett, Jordan Sackett, and Talmage Stover, and many nieces and nephews. He was preceded in death by his parents and two half-brothers, Billy and Duane. Ed's family would like to extend their deepest gratitude to the Huntsman Cancer Institute (Dr. Kenneth Grossmann and his staff), Summit Home Health and Hospice (Kim Reynolds and Maricruz Lora), and Highland Cove Assisted Living for their excellent care and attention in the final months of his life.



 
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04/01/14 01:53 PM #1    

Gordon Shepherd

“Eddie” Stover was one of Gary’s and my earliest, childhood friends.  In elementary school days our homes on Herbert and Williams Avenues were a block apart, separated by “the field.” The field was a sizable vacant lot, overgrown with weeds and tall grass in the summer—a perfect place for 8 and 9 year old boys to make forts, play army or cowboys and Indians, and throw dirt clods at each other. One summer day we fibbed to our parents that we were going down the street to play at Liberty Park. Instead (along with Ron Swenson, who was another childhood friend), we hopped on a city bus up to the state capitol. We toured the exhibits in the capitol basement (including Ab Jenkin’s salt flats race car, the “Mormon Meteor”) and explored and played in Memory Grove. As the afternoon sun began to fade we belatedly discovered that we had spent all our bus fare money on nickel cokes from the capitol’s soft drink vending machine. With one nickel left between us, we were forced to use a public phone to call home and confess our whereabouts to angry parents. If I remember right, Ed and Ron got off scot-free but Gary and I were grounded for a week. Ed was a cheerful, friendly kid and loyal to his friends and family members. These personal qualities persisted into adulthood.  I only regret that, as adults, our contact became limited to occasional high school reunions, at which Ed patently had to remind me not to call him “Eddie.”  Ed, rest in peace, old friend.

Gordon Shepherd


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