May 11, 1918 ~ Aug. 28, 2012
It was during World War II. He'd been in love with our mother since his college days. He proposed for possibly the tenth time in Golden Gate Park, San Francisco, and she finally said yes. Because of the War, she insisted they should still "date others." Who knew what would happen? After returning to base, he and a fellow soldier took a boat ride up the Sacramento River, where they spotted a beautiful girl sitting on the dock, reading a book. As it turned out, the book was Fitzgerald's translation of the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, which David knew by heart and proceeded to quote to the young lady. She fell in love instantly, but he continued to be true to our mother. Several months later they married. But David remembered and could recite many of the verses of this epic poem until days before his death.
As a boy, he loved airplanes and swore one day he would be a pilot. The military gave him that chance and during the war he joined the Army Air Corps assigned to teach other men to fly. He stayed in the Air Corps after the war, then went back to school, studying to become a doctor. To make ends meet, he worked for Challenger Airlines during the summer and realized he never wanted to give up flying. He continued to fly commercial planes until he was forced to retire at the age of 60. He taught his family that one of the greatest joys in life is to love what you do. This lesson has guided many of our best decisions throughout our lives.
He was a brave man, willingly putting his life on the line for others. Once, during a severe winter storm, he volunteered to fly the critically ill wife of an Army officer to the Mayo Clinic when no one else would risk it. He got her to the hospital and returned himself and his co-pilot to base safely and without ado. He was also our family's hero, always coming to the rescue of anyone in distress-his wife Beth who drove over a tire ripper and destroyed four brand new tires, or his grandson who attempted to triple the speed limit and nearly destroyed his little car's engine. He taught his granddaughter geometry, even if sometimes she would pretend not to understand something just to absorb the clarity of his explanations. He was always willing to give of his time and his love, his intellect and understanding.
Our mother always said she married our father for his sense of humor, his integrity and his "smarts." But she also appreciated his kindness. If some stranger needed a car, he would sell him one, accepting an old couch as payment. He was mostly a happy man who in his later years constantly pointed out that he had had a very good life. He was a fine story teller, talking often about his early years, painting a picture of life on a farm during the Depression that could put a listener right there in the scene. His stories were full of love and humor which partly explains the inheritance he passed down to his grandchildren, who are able to tell perfectly ordinary tales and make people roll in the aisles with laughter.
His father was a polygamist, his mother being the middle wife. She raised nine children, teaching them to work hard, develop their intelligence and love one another. She taught our father, the youngest surviving child, to read before he even entered school. This early ability put many of his teachers to the test as, combined with his amazing memory, he was able to rattle off the names of all his classmates, for example, or recite and spell all the words on the next day's spelling assignment without seeming to even be listening.
Now the last of Ellen's children are gone from this Earth. We will miss him. We miss him already. David wanted his remains donated to medical science. Even at 94 and mostly skin and bones, his body was accepted by the U of U Body Donor Program. He will continue to help humanity even after death as was his wish.
Ah, make the most of what ye yet may spend
Before ye too into the Dust descend;
Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie
Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and-sans End!
David S. Cannon-May 11, 1918 to August 28, 2012; survived by his daughter, Miki, his granddaughter, Piper, his grandson, Joshua, and many, many cousins and friends.




Published in Salt Lake Tribune on September 12, 2012