Ruth Pugmire

OBITUARY: Ruth Welker Pugmire, 83, died Nov. 23, 1997 at her home in Logan, Utah. She was born January 20, 1914, to Roy Anson and Elizabeth Hoge Welker in Paris, Idaho, and she was raised in the Bear Lake Valley, graduating from Fielding High School in 1932. She married Arlin Rich Pugmire in the Salt Lake Temple on November 7, 1932. Ruth and Arlin lived in St. Charles and Montpelier, Idaho; Salt Lake City and Logan, Utah; where they raised their family and were active in church and civic positions. Ruth served in all ward and stake auxiliaries including Relief Society president in two wards. She also served as a temple worker in the Logan Temple and as assistant temple matron at the time Arlin was a counselor in the Logan Temple presidency. She served two missions, one at the Mesa Temple Visitor's Center with Arlin and after his death in 1992, at the Family History Center in Salt Lake City.

Ruth leaves behind four daughters and sons and their spouses, Sherrill and Doneal Hymas, of Montpelier, Idaho; Ruth Ann and William Marshall, of Logan; Roy Lynn and Joyce Pugmire, of Breman, Germany; Steven and Linda Pugmire, of Seattle, Washington. She is also survived by four sisters, Ella Moyle and Rhoda Babbel, of Twin Falls, Idaho; Margaret Kazmisrski, of Grover Beach, California; Joyce Hafen, of Salinas, California; 18 grandchildren; 17 great-grandchildren. She was preceded in death by her husband, Arlin, by twin daughters, Jean and Joan, a son, Max Welker, who was killed in Vietnam, her father and mother, two brothers, Gareth and Roi, two sisters, Maureen Horn and Norma Ries, and a grandson, Max Coulson Pugmire. Her legacy is her family, her friends, her grace, her kind and open nature, and her charity for which she will be remembered with love.

Funeral services will be Friday, Nov. 28, 1997 at 12:30 p.m. in the Logan 9th Ward Chapel. Friends may call either Matthews Mortuary in Montpelier on Thursday, Nov. 27 from 7-8:30 p.m. or at the 9th Ward Chapel, Friday, Nov. 28 from 10 a.m. -12:15 p.m. Interment will be in the St. Charles, Idaho Cemetery.

Following is a letter that Ruth wrote to a friend of her son, Max, after his death in Vietnam. The letter is dated November 27, 1969, in Montpelier Idaho. It was written to Cleneth Brent Arnell, and reads as follows:

We appreciate your kind letter of sympathy due to Max's death. We heard from nearly all of his friends. Had you been here, we would have liked to have you for an honorary pall bearer. We were only able to have Randy and Eldon Brad from his earlier day friends. I think you would be happy to know that Max had come a long way while he was in the service of his country. Almost immediately after going into training he changed his way of life. I think he always realized how unhappy it made him, and I guess none of us will ever know just what caused it. But he did change, and when he came home for Christmas just a year ago, he had quit smoking, went to church with us, and was really changed.

Some of his old crowd came around as soon as they heard he was home. My heart just sank, thinking it would start all over again. he got in the car with them, and in a half hour he came home, got out of their car, and they never did come back. I don't think he ever saw them again, because he spent all his time with us or Abby. his letters kept showing us hoe completely changed he was, and often told us how sorry he was for what he had done, and that he hoped the Lord would forgive him, as he was truly trying to repent. He said his pillow was often wet at night with tears of remorse.

We gave him a small triple combination just before he left, and he mentioned in his letters that he took it with him everywhere he went. When his personal things were returned, it was not with them, leading us to believe that he had it on him when killed, and it had been destroyed. We did receive his Eagle Scout Emblem, which he had on at the time of his death.

His plans were to come back and marry Abby in the temple. The last letter he wrote to her said that. Then he planned to go back to school. We feel our loss is very great, but we are comforted that he found himself and repented. We feel he has a great mission to perform in the spirit world, perhaps much more than he could have ever done here. We also feel that he had this plan presented to us before we ever came here, and we agreed that we would be glad to have him for twenty years, then would be willing to give him up. We also think he knew that he would only be on earth for a short time--that it was all in the plan. We certainly would agree again to have him for twenty years rather than to not have him at all. he has taught us many things--the most noteworthy--tolerance.

In going through some of his papers from his semester at BYU, I found some English themes. Among them was this one about you, Randy, Brad and Max. I made a copy for each of you boys, thinking you may enjoy it. I don't know how much of it is true--but anyway, you see he did not forget his childhood friends because this is exactly as he handed it in to his teacher. I thought you would enjoy having a copy of it.

We are happy that you are making a success of your missionary work and and enjoying it. We appreciate your thoughtfulness in writing to us. We will look forward to seeing you when you come home. Please come over. God Bless you, Ruth W. Pugmire.

The following seems to be what was written by Max W. Pugmire, and is entitled, "Death Fall."

"Bang, bang, bang! You're all dead!" shouted ten year old Randy, upwardly pointing his fancy wooden gun, fashioned from an old "two by four" board. by winning the previous game of "Death Fall," he had earned the privilege of being the gunner. Hearing the awaited crack of the gun, the other three of us, standing on the beam above the hayloft would then begin our contortionists dives, plummeting through the stale, warm air to the soft mattress of the previous summer's alfalfa crop.

The object of our game was to present unusual and exciting forms of "death falls." We all had great knowledge of the various ways to fall, which we had obtained from countless hours in front of Brad's big RCA television while watching The Lone Ranger, Rin Tin Tin, Cochise, and Gunsmoke.

Randy, the gunner, Chose Brent, who had just executed a perfect "Apache-who-just-got-his-horse-shot-out-from-under-him" dive, as the winner of that round. I knew that Brent's dive must have been perfect to beat my near-perfect, "drunk-shot-off-the-top-of-the-saloon" fall.

My determination to win the next round increased as I rose to my full four feet and eight inches of height on the beam. My plan was extraordinary, as I was about to do the cleverest trick I had ever seen on television. When Brent barked out the shots for the wooden gun, I tumbled forward head first, imitating the cattle rustler whom I had once seen on The Lone Ranger, fall helplessly into a deep crevice as his horse raised his front fee high in the air, shying away from a deadly rattlesnake.

As I struck the hay, I rolled and rolled, suggesting the helpless rustler bouncing down the side of the gorge. My screams added the final touch, giving the fall great authenticity. But I rolled too far. At the right edge of the hayloft the floor boards were removed, so that the hay could be easily dropped to the stalls below. When I tumbled over this edge, my vision of the crevice suddenly became real. I was falling past what seemed to be gray rocks and sagebrush, actually fearing that I had become the unfortunate cattle rustler, whose predicament I had fixed so firmly in my mind.

The electrifying sensation of falling soon changed to one of shock when I hit the bottom of my "crevice." On top of that, or rather on top of me, fell a barrage of leafy, dusty, alfalfa hay. For a few moments I lay there, not knowing what to do. As my friends dug me out, I assured them that I was unhurt. Needless to say, I won the performance and was gunner for the next round, after which I weakly excused myself and walked home quickly so that I wouldn't miss seeing Gunsmoke.

The grade on Max's paper was a B+ and the teacher commented..."A natural and vivid description of the incident."