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BORN
1930
DIED
2010
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Howard McArthur Obituary
This obituary was originally published in the Bakersfield Californian.
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Terrance McArthur
June 11, 2010
HOWARD MC ARTHUR—Eulogy
I am Terrance Vaughn Mc Arthur. I’m the big brother—sorry, the older brother.
Howard Mc Arthur—Born: July 7, 1930, St. Anthony , Idaho . Died: May 12, 2010, Bakersfield , California . Five children, eleven grandchildren, three great-grandchildren.
Father was a tall man; Mother always said he was six-foot-six. He said he never was really that tall, but he looked like he was 6’6”. It may not have been true, but as we say in our family, “It makes a good story.” He was known as “Mac” or “Big Mac,” and this was long before most people had even heard of McDonalds. As time went by, his frame shrank and bent, but even in his later years it was said, “Look, even hunched over Brother McArthur is still taller than us”.
Father was born on July 7, 1930 in St. Anthony, Idaho, the son of Daniel Duncan Mc Arthur and Cora Edna Allen, but he grew up in Lovell, WY. He had four brothers and three sisters. His father died in 1940, and Howard was raised primarily by an older brother. He must have been a lively character, and once went joyriding with friends on a stolen tractor. There was a sharp bend in the road going onto a narrow bridge. Howard tried to make the turn, but the tractor tipped. His friends jumped off, but he was trapped, with the tractor on him. The friends ran for help, but the small town of Lovell didn’t have an ambulance, so Howard was taken away in a hearse.
At the age of sixteen, Father joined the Marines, and was the tallest man in the unit, but he was discharged thirteen months later for being too young; that’s the story we were always told when we were growing up. According to another telling of the story, stealing the tractor was a felony, and he was given a choice of entering the military or going to jail, so he joined the Marines.
In 1949, Howard Mc Arthur received a mission call to the California Mission of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Leaving Wyoming, where there was snow on the ground, he arrived in Bakersfield, California on November 20th with a hat, overcoat, brief case and suitcase…and the temperature was 90 degrees! The city must have made quite an impression on him, because he eventually returned for fifty years. Part of his missionary time in Bakersfield was spent in Oildale. As a youngster, Howard’s son Byron would announce to everyone that he was going to go on a mission to Oildale , North of the River. When he was old enough, Byron’s call came—to North Carolina . However, as life is known for its sense of humor, Byron is now the bishop of the Meadows Ward, North of the River; yes, he is serving in Oildale .
Howard’s mission also took him to the Los Angeles area, where he met Marilyn Baird, who had returned from a mission to Denmark. They had actually been at the mission home in Utah at the same time when their missions began. When Howard was released from his mission, he came back to California to see Marilyn. Marilyn was always involved in theatre, and Howard was told that if he wanted to see her, he had to be involved in the theatre. He could paint things. He could build scenery. Mother always claimed that before he met her, Father thought the “Stage” was how you got from Lovell to Casper. Over the years, Howard would find himself onstage in roles that could use his height: “Abe Lincoln in Illinois ,” Paul Bunyan in “Babe the Blue Ox,” and as a Backwoodsman in “Showboat,” and he would serve a term as board president of Bakersfield Community Theatre.
Howard and Marilyn were married February 23, 1952 in the St. George Temple. December 1, 1952, Terrance Vaughn Mc Arthur was born in Los Angeles. Father called me Skeezix (Gasoline Alley comic strip), Nicholas Ratsky Watsky (Krazy Kat), Teedlevaughn (Spike Jones), McGillicuddy (the maiden name of I Love Lucy’s Lucy), and Terrance Vaughn Baird Mc Arthur; one of his favorite parting phrases was “I’ll see you in the funny pages,” which is apparently where he found several of my nicknames. I called him Sir or Father. Nondus Louise Mc Arthur, who would marry Richard K. Newman III, was born March 29, 1960 in Palm Springs ; Father called her Nonniepoo. She died in 2007. Jackie Lyn Mc Arthur, who is married to Dwight Lawrence, was born June 29, 1961, in Bakersfield ; Father called her Jackson or Jackie-san. Byron Edward Mc Arthur was born Aug 3, 1963, in Bakersfield . Father called him Red, Macdoogleheimer(sp) and Bishop. George Baird Mc Arthur was born September 19, 1969, in Bakersfield; Father called him….George. I suppose he had run out of nicknames. When my daughter was born in 1980, Howard’s nickname machine revved up. Her name was Phoenix Anastasia Mc Arthur, and Father called her Tucson …and Flagstaff …and Snowflake… Winslow… and even Albuquerque. Maybe he had a Triple-A guide to the Southwest in his nightstand.
Father often worked late shifts and graveyard shifts. When I was little-er, and Mother could not get me to sleep, when Father came home, I was his responsibility. After work, he was tired, so he would prop me up with pillows so I was facing the television. Father would find a station that had a late-night test pattern on the air, and adjust the vertical hold so the picture would roll over every few seconds. He’d lay down around me, go to sleep, and then I would fall asleep watching the flipping test pattern.
Father had many jobs. He worked in the shoe industry, was on a surveying team with a struggling actor named George Kennedy, was a policeman in Palm Springs (He was part of an airport honor guard for the arrival of President Eisenhower), but Bakersfield was calling him home. He found work in the machine shops of Bakersfield , from Hopper to the ToscoPetro refinery.
Once, my parents took me to a stable off the road to Hart Park. They waited by the corral while I rode with a group. I made the mistake of urging the horse with my heels when it wanted to stop. The steed reared and took off down the hillside, leaping over trails to get back to the corral which was gated and closed, while I somehow clung to its neck. Father’s Wyoming background came to the fore. He grabbed the nearest horse and galloped to the rescuer. Mother said it looked like Marshal Dillon on a Shetland pony. He headed off my horse just before it tried to jump the gate, probably saving my life.
Howard could make anything out of nothing and was self-taught. Father built my first car--(LURCH 1)—He bought a 55 Ford wagon body for $15, and put together the rest of it. It was yellow, with a green interior, and we called it “Lurch.”
Father bought an MG Midget convertible, a little car that was about…it was…it was not much bigger than he was. He would drive around with another backstage builder, Tom Ireland, who was almost as tall as Howard and twice as wide. They would drive up in this little car with the top up, and emerge out and up and up…and up! Then, three or four little kids would tumble out from behind the seats. It was like a Barnum & Bailey clown car.
A special friend of Father’s, from his days at Tosco until the end, was Tommy Stancil. Another large man, Tommy was very close to Howard; they worked together in and outside the workplace.
Much of Father’s life was do-it-yourself. My brothers and sisters were afraid to let him know that they had a loose tooth—he would get…the pliers. Father’s hands were large, so it had to be the needle-nose pliers. He would say, “On three…One…TWO!” …and it was out.
Terrance McArthur
June 11, 2010
In 1980, Father decided to go on a trip with a neighbor and his friends…to Baja California …on motorcycles. On a washed-out highway, he lost control of the bike and was found in a culvert…six feet deep…with a broken back. The neighbor and his friends…were doctors. They commandeered a convalescent hospital and stabilized him. Howard’s life changed. He could walk, but he could no longer work in his chosen field. He spent time in his Little House in the Back Yard with his hobbies— photography and lapidary or gem-cutting.
He worked part-time for Western Emporium (owned by neighbors) as security, then helped in sales…but that got him downtown among the pawn shops during his lunch hour. You think he had tools before! After he started working at the pawnshops, it was like a kid in a candy store! He got tools and cameras that were still in boxes!
Mother and Father had been married for fifty years when she died in 2002. As I had dealt with the death of a spouse, he turned to me. I talked with him and gave him support. It was the closest we had ever been as father and son, because I understood his pain, confusion, and loss.
In 2003, he married the former Phyllis Slaughter. They traveled together, served in the Los Angeles Temple together, and tested their blood sugars together. It was harder for Father to get around until he got his little red scooter, which he operated in a manner that was somewhere between a wheelchair and a Harley-Davidson Flathead. You did not want to be anywhere between where Father was and where he wanted to be. He didn’t seem to care what he hit…or how hard he hit it.
Phyllis died in 2009, and Howard’s life settled into a downward spiral. The family worried about him, didn’t want him to be alone, but felt guilty at the thought of institutionalizing Father. George, the youngest and tallest of us, took Howard into his home. George and his wife Stacie began adjusting their lives around Father, helping him battle his medical problems until the end, which came on the morning of May 12, 2010.
There are things we will remember about Howard Mc Arthur.
When he answered the phone, it was usually with the punchline to an old Danny Thomas story, “Halo Statue.”
He was devoted to the Church. He did his best, whatever the calling, from teaching teens in Sunday School or Priesthood to executive secretary positions. Until it was disbanded, he was a member of the 411th Quorum of Seventy.
Mother was three years older than Father, which she did not know until they were signing the papers the day they got married. When he was first interested in her, he asked another friend and he said, “Yeah, she’s nice, but I’m a year younger and she won’t look at me.” When they went to vote in 1952, he called out “Doll, I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never done this before, and you have so much more experience.”
Mother thought Father was older because of his hair. Howard’s hairline began receding at a very early age. A man can accept change gracefully, or rage against the dying of the follicles. Father…had toupees. They started small and grew with time. He artfully tried to conceal it, but…you knew. There was talk of having a display of Father’s toupees at the funeral—“Hairpieces Through the Ages.”
In Southern California , Father was good friends with Jack Hickey, who was not a big man. They went into a grove to pick oranges, and Howard said that he couldn’t carry the ladder because of his bad back. Short Jack lugged that ladder the whole day, and later commented to Mother about how it was a shame about Father’s bad back. She said, “What bad back?”
Father could walk into any garage, electrical shop, or business and become instant friends with the owner. They would talk for hours, while the tagalong child would wait and wait and wait…Byron adds: and wait!
Home teaching with Father was an amazing experience, as he would piece together the biographies and genealogies of every person he or the home teaching family ever knew into an intricate tapestry of memory.
People loved Father.
Father loved his family, although they often perplexed him. He looked down on my puppet shows, couldn’t understand why his grown son would play with dolls, until he took a call at the house from someone who wanted to book a puppet show for $100. Playing with dolls suddenly became a worthy pursuit in his eyes.
Jackie spoke her own language for several years, one the family called Jackinese. Father would ask Nondus, “What does she want?” The older sister would interpret, until the day we were on the Ridge Route, going up the Grapevine, and Jackie said (and I quote), “Goo goo da dum gwee.” Father asked, “What did she say?” Nondus said, “Goo goo da dum gwee,” and Father nearly swerved off a cliff.
Father was a big man, and he lived a big life: no wonder his idol was John Wayne. Now that he is gone, there will be a large space in our lives. Maybe we can fill that space by living our own lives a little larger, I pray in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.
Byron McArthur
June 8, 2010
For those that don’t know me I’m Byron McArthur one of Howards five children.
I’d like to first add a few personal stories that Terrance left out.
Last year while travelling to Fresno I asked him questions about his life. He told me how he wanted to be a Machinist and he would get a job in a shop and before they laid him off for not knowing much he’d learned a little more. I was always told he was the best and I thought so too. My favorite Pinewood Derby was made on the mill at TOSCO A few years back when they were building the Children’s Train at Calm he built all the wheels and repaired or made parts they needed.
Two of my Mothers stories are once when she was at the laundry matt and some guy was trying to pick up on her and she kept on telling him to buzz off. When she pulled Dads coveralls out of the dryer he decided to leave her alone. Then their was the time she said she screamed when she rolled over in bed and saw a man with a full head of hair, because he didn’t take off his tope.
The kids in my Sunday School Class would ask at our Saturday hot dog / swim party’s “What happened too your Dads hair?” Because…… he had hair on Sunday?
I was working with the Stake on a “Zion’s Camp” and we were feeding the young men Jerky and apples to get them humble and teachable and I go over to the Cook Shack and my Dad is feeding them Cobbler!
He built a cannon for “Annie Get Your Gun”
That cannon is still around.
My friend Paul Abbott shared this story with me;
One of my favorite memories of your dad was when Robert and I went over to your house right after our missions, (you weren’t home yet). We went over to say hi to everyone and to eat some pop tarts. The only one home was your dad. He was out in the back in the shed working with some rocks so we decided to just hang out in the kitchen and eat. Your dad saw us through the kitchen window and came running in, more like hobbled in, as fast as he could and grabbed Rob and I, one in each arm and just hugged us and started to cry. He was so excited to see us. That was a tender side of your dad that I didn’t get to see too often.
My friend Robert Nielson told me this one;
The most amazing thing happened to day. Your father called me to ask my advice on something. Your father! Your father asked me for advice! I thought what is he calling me for he knows everything.
He also remember the time he helped me put in some simple forms to pour an extension to our walk in front of the porch. I think we were around 17. He remembers my dad complimenting him on his technique and said he exhibited great skill. He’s sure he just wanted him to feel good, but he remembered feeling pretty cool getting such a compliment from the handyman God. We still don’t think there was anything he couldn’t do or build.
Last Month I was able to go with my father
to the Temple. A place he grew fond of in his latter years.
I’m thankful and humbled to share today a gospel message with you.
My Father would be what you call a die in the wool Mormon if you looked at his pedigree chart you would find that most of his ancestors were baptized members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Most of his ancestors came to the United States from England and Scotland to be with the saints in Zion. Many crossed the planes in wagons, handcarts or by foot because of what they believed in. My father was of that same stock.
As we think of our eternal purpose at this time in our lives we first have to know where we came from. In Jeremiah 1:5 we read, “Before I formed thee in the belly I knew thee: and before thou camest forth out of the womb I sanctified thee, and I ordained thee a prophet unto the nations.” We lived with our Heavenly Father before we came to this earth. We knew our father and we wanted to be like him. The words of a primary song teach us these simple truths. I am a Child of God hymn 301.
Byron McArthur
June 8, 2010
We chose to come to this Earth and gain a body like his and learn right from wrong and live in this world of trials. Our Heavenly Father gave us free agency to make our own choices here on Earth. Because we don’t remember the pre-earth life we have to live by faith and keep the Lord’s commandments. 1 Corinthians 15:21-22, “For since by man came death, by man came also the resurrection of the dead. For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive.” In 1 Nephi 10:21 it states, “…and no unclean thing can dwell with God”
We have all sinned and fallen short. Jesus Christ is our Savior. He suffered in the Garden and was crucified on the cross so that we might be able to return to live with our elder Brother Jesus Christ, our Savior, and our Heavenly Father.
1 Corinthians 15:55-57 Reads: “O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin…and the gift of God is eternal life, through our Lord Jesus Christ.”
President Wilford Woodruff said, “The resurrection of the dead presents itself before the enlightened mind of man, and he has a foundation for his spirit to rest upon. That is the position of the Latter-day Saints to-day. We do know for ourselves, we are not in the dark with regard to this matter; God has revealed it to us and we do understand the principle of the resurrection of the dead, and that the gospel brings life and immortality to light. It is hard, of course, to part with our friends. … It is natural for us to give expression to our feelings in tears in laying away the bodies of our beloved friends, [but we need not mourn anyone] who has been true and faithful to [their] covenants, who has received the Gospel of Jesus Christ and the ordinances thereof, and the holy Priesthood. Such men and women have filled their mission here upon earth with honor, with labor, with love, until they have been called home. Thy have died in the faith, and they will receive a crown of glory.”
Our late prophet Gordon B. Hinckley said at a funeral, “What a wonderful thing is death, really, when all is said and done. It is the great reliever. It is a majestic, quiet passing on from this life to another life, a better life. I’m satisfied of that. We go to a place where we will not suffer as we have suffered here, but where we will continue to grow, accumulating knowledge and developing and being useful under the plan of the Almighty made possible through the Atonement of the Son of God.”
The Lord said, “Thou shalt live together in love, insomuch that thou shalt weep for the loss of them that die” (D & C 42:45). The only way to take sorrow out of death is to take love out of life.
Sometimes we might hear a long sermon at a funeral but if the life we are celebrating has been a sermon itself than that’s all that needs to be said.
We mourn the loss of my father, but we must be true to the faith and endure to the end. Shortly after my father’s death I had to search thru my father things and I mean search, like a needle in a hay stack, to find a simple pocket knife. He carried it for years and so will I.
It is my prayer that we will all be strengthened by his memories.
In the name of Jesus Christ AMEN!
Steven Ricks
May 19, 2010
The saying goes, You start with a bag of marbles, each time you pick up a rock you drop a marble, You are a true rock hound when you have lost all your marbles. I am not sure he ever lost all his marbles but he sure didn't want to let go of those rocks, IT was awesome to associate with Howard in the theater, in the mineral society and at church. He was a hoot. I think the boys were right. I don't think there was anything Howard couldn't do.
Ruben Cantu
May 19, 2010
Our thoughts and prayers are with you in your time of grief. May your memories bring you comfort.
May 19, 2010
To George, Byron and Family ~ Your dad was a great neighbor and we enjoyed having him right next door, which offered us opportunities to get to know some of you as well. We thank God for the blessings of Howard's life and give Him the glory for the joy Howard expressed. Our hearts and prayers are with you ~ Shelley & Gary Evans and girls
Bigger Tom Richardson
May 19, 2010
George, please know that the sacrifices that Stacie and you made to care for your father until the end bless you with the noblest distinction in the good book.
Your rewards shall come to you through the spirit that your father has obviously bestowed upon you, has served you up to this point, and shall continue to do so until your eternity arrives.
His spirit is with you for eternity, his soul is resting in peace until Christ returns to take his people, and his shell is now cast away--that's three, and three is a magic number.
May peace be with you soon.
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