Ruel is survived by his wife, Veda, by two sons and five daughters, by 41 grandchildren, and by 46 great-grandchildren. He was preceded in death by an adopted son, Vance, by triplett sons, Ransom, Reegan, and Raymond, who died in infancy in 1942, and by a son, Basil, who died in 1982.

Before I begin, I want to take this opportunity to publicly thank our sister, Iris, on behalf of the family. In the last few weeks when Dad became too weak to care for himself, Iris moved in and provided around-the-clock care for him. He called her his angel, and indeed she was.

"A life lived long and well and full"--I can't think of words that could better describe Dad's life. In addition to providing for his family, he had many personal, intellectual, community, and social interests and pursuits. He was well known and respected in this wide area of southwest Wyoming and northeastern Utah. His handiwork is evident in many sites in the area, including the Flaming Gorge Dam, the Sweetwater County courthouse, the McKinnon ward building, the Outlaw Inn in Rock Springs, and at many other sites.

Dad was a very educated man, which is particularly noteworthy considering that he did not finish high school. But he never stopped studying and learning. He amassed an extensive library of books and articles and papers. He was always studying. I remember when he undertook a study of the dictionary. He would study several pages each evening. He was especially interested in the history of southwestern Wyoming, and intended to write a book on this history. But this is one of his projects that didn't get done.

Music was another of Dad's interests and loves. He played the piano, the violin, the guitar, the banjo, and the harmonica. Dad and some of his music friends formed a band and played for McKinnon dances. He passed on his musical talents to several of his daughters.

Dad learned carpentry skills from his father as they built their homestead. In later years Dad would proudly show me structures he helped build. These carpentry skills became one of Dad's occupations.

Eventually Dad became a full-time brakeman on the Union Pacific Railroad and settled in Rawlins. This is where my earliest memories begin. The railroad job was a good job, especially considering that it was just after the Great

The outcome of this move and midlife career change was certainly the hardest years of Dad's and Mom's lives. Mostly Dad timbered and sawmilled, but he and Mother also raised pigs and chickens and eggs and cows and always had work horses. But always Dad went back to the sawmill. I marvel at how hard he worked. He sawed the trees down by hand with a one-man saw, chopped the limbs off, sawed the trees into log lengths, skidded them off the mountain side with horses, loaded them onto the truck, and hauled them home. He could get one truckload of logs per day. He did this for two weeks at a time, then spent two weeks on the sawmill, sawing the logs into lumber. He also had to keep up the farm, and there was extra work in the summer, such as haying and building fences.

From Dad I learned, among other things, lumberjacking, sawmilling, trucking, ranching and farming, how to handle horses, and carpentry. Years later I showed Dad some carpentry I was doing on my own house. He seemed to be impressed and asked, "John, where did you learn to do this?" I truthfully answered, "From you, Dad." Even though he didn't say anything, I know he was pleased.

I also learned self-esteem and self-confidence from Dad and Mother. Being assigned to deliver lumber and collect what was for us a large sum of money, driving a logging truck down steep mountain roads, even before I had a drivers license, handling horses in the hayfields and in the timber, off-bearing on the sawmill, doing finish work in a new room in our house--all did wonders for my ego. Dad wasn't much for praising us directly, but once he told Mother he would rather have me work for him than any hired hand, and she told me.

These years of hard work and difficulty were the formative years for us kids. We still call ourselves "us kids". Looking back, we realize they were a priceless heritage; we wouldn't trade them for anything. It's too bad all children can't have experiences like we did. Recently us kids put together our memories of growing up with Dad and Mom and presented it to them for their 50th anniversary. We titled it "Growing Up On Triplett Lane". The foreword says

But it wasn't all work. Dad loved to take us on outings and picnics. Some favorite places were Hide Out, now covered by Flaming Gorge Reservoir, Palisade Park in Sheep Creek Canyon, and into the mountains and timber. These outings were often accompanied by some measure of rock collecting. We have a treasured picture of Dad climbing down from Widdop's Peak in his undershorts. He had collected so many geodes and had no way to carry them, so he took off his overalls, tied the legs together, and filled them with rocks!

Now, I've been talking pretty much about Dad. But so much of what I've said about Dad also pertains to Mother. That beautiful lady Dad saw standing on the bridge is now this beautiful older lady sitting up here on the front row.

Dad loved to organize our family reunions and outings. He always made an agenda. He rigged up a public address system so we could all share our experiences. He recorded these events and distributed tapes to everyone. He took pictures then made albums and distributed them to us. Of course these are prize possessions now.