Virgil Valentine

  Born in August, almost two years after the Great Depression, Virgil Gene Valentine arrived in Miami AZ (pronounced “Mi-Ama” unlike the Florida city). He was the middle of seven children, spread out through 23 years. His oldest sister Doris, who helped raise him, died in 2001, and Kathleen, who was the next to youngest, died in 2009.

  His entire family were members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS Church, or Mormon Church). His father, Joseph, came from Mississippi, while his mother, Annie, came from Colorado. His father was musically talented, but worked different menial work such as mining and janitorial work, and wasn’t always organized. His mother ran the house, and ran it with a firm hand. It needed one for their humble home of seven children.

  He was accomplished. He sang publicly, was a cast member in school plays, and he played football and baseball, lettering in both. His friends in his yearbooks said he was swell, said he should sit with them because he was good at math, and noted he was a cute “toe-headed” (blond). But their comments didn’t recognize his depth. He was a voracious reader and wanted to learn. After his passing, his desk was covered with books with diverse subjects and titles such as C. S. Lewis’ “Mere Christianity,” “Immortal Poems” edited by Oscar Williams, “A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court” by Mark Twain, “Lincoln” by Gore Vidal, “Navy Blue and Gold” by George Bruce, and over 50 volumes of Britannica's “Great Books” series about writers, philosophers, mathematicians, and others from history.

  He wanted to learn more, and he knew he couldn’t get more in Miami. He spent a year going to a local college in Phoenix, and happened to read a book called “Navy Blue and Gold.” The book inspired him to get a free education, which is what his parents could afford. He applied to the U.S. Merchant Marine Academy at King’s Point, which overlooks Long Island in New York City (and he got his local congressman’s endorsement to do it). In exchange for the degree he would earn at the academy, he would serve six years in the Navy after graduation.

  But in the middle of his schooling, he decided to call and ask a Mormon girl on a date. She wasn’t home, but one of her roommates, Anita Todd, was. And she was a Mormon too. So he asked her out. She was his match. Anita came from Gridley CA, daughter of a banker and Stake President of the LDS Church. Her mother was accomplished in almost everything else. She too had drive, and wanted an education – and she didn’t want it from some local city college. She went to Brigham Young University, and then decided to attend New York University to get her master’s degree in Retailing. And so she happened to be on the other end of the phone when a merchant marine cadet called. She accepted, and they dated. They married in January 1955.

  Poverty was out-of-the-question for Virgil: The question was HOW to get out of it. He started with what he knew: Shipping. He and Anita moved to California, where Dad spent long days and long hours in San Francisco waiting for union jobs, and would grab any job he could. He travelled the world on food carriers. He missed the births of some of his children doing this and holidays too.

  He liked going to sea, and was good at it, but he worried about his family’s stability, and being away from them. He tried law at the University of Berkeley for one year, and passed – but he didn’t like it. He tried other jobs, but they didn’t suit him. So he went back to sea, determined to excel. By the time he retired, he was not only “master” (Captain) of oil carriers, he did the piloting as well to get extra money. The compromise was three months on ship, and then three months at home. He still missed some Christmases and birthdays, and holidays, but the pay supported his family.

  His biggest weakness was feeling his home should be like his ship, where he was “master.” That caused some hardship. His strengths were not teetering when opinion or oppression came his way, and retaining his compassion. In one case he saw a grown man hopped up on drugs beating a boy. He stopped the car, got out, and yelled at the man to let him go. The man turned and headed for Virgil, who was smart enough to get in the car to call the police. But the distraction allowed the boy to escape. Other times, when far older, he would be at restaurants with his family, and notice others who may have had trouble paying the bill, so he would ask waiters to let him cover it. Virgil never forgot where he came from, and what it was like to need.

  And during his years, he documented EVERYTHING – his car records, his stock investments, his ship logs, notes from education seminars – all by hand in lots of thick notebooks, which he left behind with his yearbooks, personal papers, letters, and memories.

  He retired in 1995, and was almost immediately bored. He decided to volunteer at the Oakland Temple for the LDS Church. He also served various callings at church. His wife said these were the better times – when serving the Lord, he was calmer, more peaceful, more caring. He liked debate about many things, but his belief in the importance of family and church never wavered.

  He died in hospice care when his mind could no longer hold the information he long strove to gain. In a letter he wrote his family in 1988, he gave advice: Choose friends wisely. Only follow advice after you’ve carefully thought it through. Make sure to pray for confirmation. Save your money to become financially independent. And center your goals on the long-term and spiritual, not what is in front of you now.

  Virgil is survived by his wife of 70 years, with five children, 17 grandchildren, and 18 great-grandchildren, and one great-great-grandchild. His body will be viewed at the Oak Park Hills Chapel in Walnut Creek. His body will be buried at the Provo City Cemetery.