Dean was my good friend for at least a decade or more when I was still teaching economics at Brigham Young University. We went to lunch two or three times a week, since we could indulge in such culinary delights as liver and onions in one place and get the incomparable pea soup at La Dolce Vita. Dean and I were both country boys, so we had much common background to share. Dean grew up on a cattle ranch in southern Utah and was a cowboy and rancher at heart who just happened to have a Ph.D. and teach economics. I grew up on a sugar beet farm in northwest Wyoming and just happened to have a Ph.D. and teach economics.
I know I have told this story before, but now I'll tell it again. In Dean's obituary, the closing words were: "In lieu of flowers, help someone in need." These words were especially poignant to me since years ago he told me this story:
(In Dean's words). I was hauling a load or horses to the ranch and ran out of gas about 10 miles north of Manti. The horses were bucking and I was afraid the truck might tip over. Car after car of nicely dressed people on their way to the Manti LDS temple passed me by without stopping and I was getting desperate. Then a grizzled looking guy in a battered up old pickup stopped. "Having trouble?" he asked. "I ran out of gas," I replied. He then said, "I've got a 50-gallon drum full of gas in the back of the pickup, let me fill you up." He filled my tank. I offered to pay him, to buy him breakfast, anything to repay him. His reply: "Just help the next person in need."
Dean once told me that when his time came, he would get on his horse, call his beloved dog Lady, and ride up into the high mountains and never look back and never come back. I know your journey was wonderful and that you have seen and experienced things beyond our mortal comprehension. I wish you continual peace.