Dezzie and Henry
Written by Ardie Adams
To give you a little information on Dezzie and Henry, you have to appreciate that I’m her brother, Ardie, and we’re from a family of nine children. Dezzie was the third daughter and the fifth child. The girls and boys off times slept cross way in the bed because we didn't have that many bedrooms—no problem. We had one bathroom and you know how a girl uses a bathroom—I don’t recall having a problem in that regard. Dezzie grew up in a normal family.
In my view of growing up, the thing that stands out about Dezzie is that she always said she wouldn't get married—nobody would have her. Then she went to Brigham Young University and met Henry Stoddard. Henry was primarily putting himself through college. When he met Dezzie the seemed to have found kindred spirit, with personalities that meshed. He came over to our home most Sundays. When he left, mother would give him milk, eggs, a loaf of fresh home baked bread, and other things that would help sustain him during the week. (Henry indicated to me years later how important that was to him and how he appreciated what he had been given). He said that on one occasion, having his arms so loaded, he dropped the eggs on the lawn near his apartment. He didn't want to lose them so he went into a nearby grocery store, got a paper bag, and scooped them from the grass-thankful that it happened close to where he lived. That, I felt, was quite hilarious. (He also said that he was able to buy skim milk from the BYU Dairy for five cents a gallon).
At the time Bea and I were married in the Salt Lake City temple, they were living in Salt Lake City where he worked for the Arden dairy. Then, in the fall of 1942, I went into the military and Bea joined me the following spring. This left our little house—just west of the family home—empty, and Dezzie and Henry rented it from us and lived there until the fall of 1945, when I was discharged. They were good caretakers. I had made a furnace in the basement from a heaterola and around the edge of it built up bricks and put a tub on top for the dome then a pipe into the living room and another into the bedroom for heat. In course of time that heater burned a hole through the side and it let the smoke go into the vents. So father, along with Henry, put in a furnace—a regular central heating furnace.
Their first child, Tommy, born while they lived in Pleasant Grove, was a year older than our first child who was also named Tommy. Later the two of them played together when they visited our parents. Dezzie was such a good homemaker and took wonderful care of things. She and Henry were very thrifty. After the war ended they moved to Oregon and lived in several areas there. Years later we took an extended trip and our second stop was to see Dez, Henry, and their family in Pendleton—how gracious they were to us. Our visit there was short but very enjoyable. We had planned to leave early in the morning, but Henry was up and had cooked a good breakfast for us that was delightful. (Dezzie had been taken to the hospital for tests).
Dezzie and Henry were strong, valiant members of the Church. Dezzie was the Relief Society President and endeared herself to so many, many people there. Dezzie was involved in genealogy. When Ken showed a great interest in it, together they researched their family history. Generations past, present, and those yet unborn will appreciate their work.
After Dezzie had a stroke, the moved to Logan, Utah. Henry couldn't have been more solicitous and kind to Dezzie. Even after she went into a convalescent home he would take her to her hairdresser. Even though she wasn't herself, on occasion when she saw him coming she would say, “now that’s the guy that I want to see,” and remembered Henry as her one and only.
I feel that they have earned the privilege to be in the highest degree of celestial glory by virtue of their faithfulness, diligence, reliability, and their covenants kept. Hopefully their posterity will follow their excellent examples.
