David John Wilde, Mar 24, 1939 – Feb 4, 2017

David Wilde’s daughter, Lori Ann Wilde Snell, shared these memories and thoughts of her Dad on February 7, 2017, at his funeral:

I have a friend in Oregon who briefly met my dad a couple of times. When she learned of his death, she sent a text that said, “Heaven just got a lot more fun.” I love that because I know it is so true.

Dad liked to take one end of the wrapper off a straw, then put that end into his mouth and blow the rest of the wrapper at mom’s face when we went out to eat.

He loved turning the lights off and chasing his grandkids around the house on his hands and knees snorting loudly. He loved hearing them laugh and scream.

He loved terrorizing our dates. One night Sara stood on the front porch with her date and suddenly a bright light appeared in their faces. It was dad, with a flashlight, who would then make up a story that he was out looking for worms, and would then go out onto the grass and start digging just to make it look legit.

While visiting me up in Oregon, Dad and I were out in my yard when a big snake slithered in front of my feet. I turned to my dad, my hero, and yelled snake. To my surprise dad turned away and ran. After I managed to get away I found dad and said, “you were supposed to save me!” He said, “I was going to, I just had to go get my shoes on first.” He hates snakes.

Many of you don’t know that dad played the ukulele and played it well. I loved sitting out on the porch with him in the evenings listening to him play and sing “my bonny lies over the ocean.”

I really thought that dad was some type of secret agent or maybe Rambo.

But my all time favorite memory is when I was about 15. I was getting ready for a stake dance held in this very building. Dad was getting ready to go out with the family somewhere. My hair was up in curlers and dad said “Okay, goodbye.” I begged him not to leave me there alone, because it was rumored that there was a peeping tom in the neighborhood and I was scared. Dad disappeared for a few minutes and rushed back to me and then placed a heavy revolver in my hand, like that was a normal occurrence. My jaw dropped to the floor, and I said, “you’ve gotta be kidding me! I don’t even know how to use one of these!” Then he thought for a minute, and disappeared again. Came back and put a huge machete in my other hand and said goodbye. I thought, who is this guy? Not 5 minutes after everyone left me, the electricity went out in the house. A fire was roaring in the fireplace and it cast a huge shadow on the wall-me in my curlers, with a revolver, and machete, in the living room. I dropped everything, ran out of the house ripping the curlers out of my hair, throwing them on the neighbors lawns, as I ran down the street towards this church building.

I remember jumping out at dad and scaring him one night. He did these amazing karate moves on me before he realized who I was. I really thought that dad was some type of secret agent or maybe Rambo.

Don’t do that again.

Dad had an extraordinary way of teaching and showing love. Always with patience and a soft voice. We put that to the test as his children.

We were in the west Yellowstone area in Montana where dad was busy fixing one of the snowmobiles and pulled the rip-cord to start the engine. He was fiddling with the spark plugs when Mike jumped onto the snowmobile and turned the key. After dad stopped shaking from being electrocuted, he stood before Mike and quietly said, “don’t do that again.”

When my daughter Brooke lived with mom and dad for a time, she sometimes left her room a mess. Dad would simply take a picture of it and upload it to the computer screen for all to see. When she asked why he took that picture he simply said, I’ve never seen anything like that before.” She kept her room clean after that.

If we didn’t do it…he’d shut the electricity off to the house.

If dad felt we were watching too much TV he would ask us to turn it off. If we didn’t do it, after asking only once, he’d shut the electricity off to the house.

At one time, dad was the safety driving instructor at Hercules. It was important to him that his children learned the driving skills he taught. There were three things that we were asked to do. One, always walk behind the car, before getting inside, to make sure it was clear to back up. Two, have your window down and the radio off. Three, back up very slowly. So I’m 16, I remember jumping into the car, throwing it into reverse and suddenly hearing a horrifying crunch behind the car. To enforce his teachings dad would place a lawn chair behind the car that you couldn’t see in a rear view mirror. For years, I could hear that terribly sound in my head each time I put the car in reverse. You would think that was traumatizing enough, but dad would then display the mangled pieces of the lawn chairs on our front lawn for all the neighbors to see. I remember my mom walking out onto the front porch yelling at dad, because she never had anything to sit on.

Ken, you made the boat run like new.

It was the summer before Ken’s mission and our boat wasn’t working. Dad decided to sell it, but wanted it running well first. So he handed Ken a bag of tools and said, “go have fun.” Ken had never worked on an engine before, but he watched dad do it many times. So he just did what he watched dad do, and started taking the engine apart. Ken found an old rusted copper pipe, gave it to dad and said that it needed to be replaced. Dad bought a new one and Ken installed it. Dad came home that night, jumped into the boat, turned the key and it started right up. He was shocked. The next two weekends, dad took ken and Sara on a special boat trip and ran the boat as fast and as hard as he could. Then Dad told Ken something he has never forgotten, he said, “Ken, you made the boat run like new.” I can only imagine how proud he was of you Ken!

Dad admired his son in law Mark Uno. He had a talent for remembering names and then using that name repeatedly while in a conversation. He loved that skill. But Dad struggled to remember names, so he kept a little notebook where he would write down the names of people he met, and also a little something he learned about that person. It was not long before dad developed that skill and it helped him show just how much he loved the people he met.

I like others to see that no matter what I go to church.

Dad was not a man to stand behind a pulpit to minister to others. He ministered to the one on a personal level and lived what he believed. I remember asking him why he always walked to church, especially in bad weather because at times he would arrive in a soaking wet suit. He answered, “I like others to see that no matter what I go to church.” In just a few words, dad testified to me, in a powerful way, that no matter what storms may come, we keep going to church.

Dad never forced us to go to church

Dad never forced us to go to church though, or guilt us into going. Sara remembers as a teenager, one Sunday deciding not to go to church. She said dad came home from church that day so excited and when he knew Sara was close enough to overhear, talked with mom about what an amazing day at church it was, and how wonderful it was that the prophet was there, shaking everybody’s hand. It sounded so great, that Sara wondered if he was making most of it up, nevertheless, Sara determined that she had missed out, and that she didn’t want to stay home from church ever again.

Sara also remembers, when she would ask dad a question about her homework, if he didn’t know the answer, he would take her textbook, read and study the whole chapter, sometimes taking a few hours and if he still couldn’t help, he would get on the phone to find someone that could.

When Sara’s triplets were born mom and dad went to Texas to help. She said that dad refused to sleep unless she was sleeping. And at times, would stay by her side all night long, helping her with the new born babies.

He loved serving in the Salt Lake Temple every Friday night with his Bride.

Dad’s 50 years of service in the Bonneville ward included many callings. He’d go to the Veterans hospital to give blessings to the sick, he took care of this beautiful building and always volunteered for welfare assignments. He was a most faithful home teacher. I remember delivering something to one of his assigned families for him and told them how blessed they were to have my dad as their home teacher, but they already knew. He loved serving in the Salt Lake Temple every Friday night with his Bride. You could find them there, arm in arm, or just holding hands walking the halls.

A couple of days ago, Sara found a journal my dad kept. As we read it we were taught how important family home evening was to him and how he used that time (Monday nights) to write in journals. Almost all his entries were on family nights.

On May 3rd, 1982, keeping in mind that Sara was only 2 months old, Dad writes, “this family night I have asked that all the children write in their journals. Sara didn’t write a word. She could tell us what the first 30 days of life was like, but she just can’t write about that yet. Lori Ann and Michael are teenagers so they write when they are darn good and ready. Kristine, Allison and Kenneth all write a little bit.”

We never doubted that we were loved

Dad showed his love for us every day. We never doubted that we were loved, but the three words I LOVE YOU were rarely if ever heard from dad in our growing up years. Mike, Kris, Alli, Ken and Sara if you ever wondered why … we discovered the answer in a journal entry on April 21st 1986. Dad writes, “I find it quite a challenge to find the right time to tell the children that I love them, each one. This is difficult for me to do without embarrassing them. Love is not meant to use lightly, without deep thought and concern. That’s why I guess it takes me so long to find the right moment because I want it to be so special to me and my children.

I know my Savior Jesus Christ, because I was raised by a Father who emulated His characteristics in every way so faithfully.

We know how to love from the way Dad treated Mom. Mom, we will try to care for you as dad did—like the Queen that you are! I know my Savior Jesus Christ, because I was raised by a Father who emulated His characteristics in every way so faithfully. So grateful to have such a Father!

I love you Dad, and hope to be like you someday. In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.