Allen Bannatyne Stoneman—"Wow! What a Ride!"

My sister, Ruth Bay Gibbons Stoneman and her husband,
Allen Bannatyne Stoneman

The last few days we have celebrated the life of my brother-in-law, Allen Bannatyne Stoneman, who died suddenly on January 30, 2019 at the too-young age of 65. At the time of his death he was serving as the Bishop of the Canyon Road Ward in downtown Salt Lake City. He leaves my sister Ruth, five children and twelve grandchildren. He was laid to rest yesterday in the Salt Lake City Cemetery.

First Introduction

My three siblings and their companions:
Front row: Mark and Shari Gibbons
Back row: Allen and Ruth Stoneman; Suzi and Tim Burton

I first met Allen when I was fourteen years old. The date was February 10, 1972— exactly forty-seven years ago today!  My late father’s diary tells the story in his patented understated prose:

Last night two young men named Alan Stoneham and John Ashton, who are officers in the West High Seminary, called to visit Ruthie. We invited them to have family prayer and dinner with us, and surprisingly, they accepted! (Diary of Francis M. Gibbons for Friday, February 11, 1972)

Here is my recollection of the event. In the early evening, shortly before dinner, our doorbell rang. I answered the door. There were two young men standing on the porch, one rather short with glasses, and the other massive, at least six feet three, muscular, radiating health, vigor and joy. His cheeks were rosy and he was grinning ear to ear. The taller one asked in a booming voice, “Is Ruth home?”

“Sure,” I said. I invited them to sit in the living room and went upstairs to find my sister, Ruth. She came down, and the living room was soon filled with laughter and loud conversation. 

Behind the scenes, my mother was in the kitchen preparing the evening meal. We always ate dinner in the formal dining room at a set hour. Into this life of regimentation, Allen Stoneman appeared! Dad was downstairs in his library, with the gas log burning in the fireplace. Mom asked me to go down and get Dad for dinner. When I went down, he asked me, “Who is that upstairs?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Two guys to see Ruthie.”

“Who are they?”

“I don’t know.”

“Great Scott,” he said, mildly irritated that his evening dinner hour and repose should be interrupted. He went upstairs to meet the intruders.

From the upstairs hallway I could hear the conversation in the living room. He shook their hands, asked their names, and then the conversation went something like this.

“Well, thanks for coming. We’re just about to have our family prayer and eat dinner. Would you like to join us?”

(This was one of Dad’s favorite ploys to “get rid of people”—invite them to dinner)

To universal surprise, Allen responded, “Sure!” And our family was never the same!

First (and Lasting) Impressions

Allen was big in every way—in physical stature, in native charisma, in radiating spirit. His very cheeks seemed to glow with vigor and happiness. He was cheerful, pleasant, serene, happy. His attitude was incredibly upbeat. He truly lit up a room. His impact upon those around him was powerful. He was truly a “presence” in any setting he entered. And he had the uncanny power to lift the atmosphere and feeling in a room. He was like a great positive energy field, with the capacity to change weaker, negative energy fields of people around him. Part of his positive energy was a humane native wit that he shared continuously. He never allowed himself to be dragged into the negative vortex of dark personalities and conflict around him, but used good humor to step away from their poisonous, negative orbit. Allen was a peacemaker and a harmonizer.

Allen never seemed to react to the negative behaviors, criticism or human weaknesses of those around him. He was a believer in the unseen potential of everyone around him. I never saw him carrying a grudge. He seemed adamant that he was never going to label other people, to stereotype, categorize or prejudge. He seemed to have a vision of the potential of those around him. He saw the oak trees in the acorns.

He surely made me feel as though he saw potential in me. I was a painfully awkward and introverted fourteen year old at Clayton Junior High School when I met Allen, while he was a popular football player and Seminary President at West High. He was everything I was not, but he always treated me as an equal. He took a real interest in me, and he never laughed at or belittled me. I knew that conversation with Allen was safe.  It was also a lot of fun. He was filled with anecdotes and jokes. For many years he referred to me as “Daniel,” in a deep, Spanish accent, reminiscent of the comedy routines of Cheech and Chong. 

Allen as an Actor         

For many years Allen held forth on the stage. As a little boy Allen and his brothers performed on the stage in the Promised Valley production that ran for many years on the Church Office block. In those days there was an outdoor theater facing the Salt Lake Temple, located where the cascading streams and lawn run down toward the Main Street Plaza. Each summer there were almost daily productions of a play depicting the Exodus of the Saints from Nauvoo to Utah. At the conclusion of this play, always concluded at night, the floodlights would illuminate the temple. In any event, Allen performed in this play even as a little boy. His parents were also performers, and both sang in the Tabernacle Choir, and Harper Stoneman as a soloist during General Conference.

After Ruth and Allen were married and had settled in Bountiful, for many years the family performed in productions at the Pages Lane Theater. Julie and the kids and I saw most of those performances. 

Our favorite role that Allen portrayed for several years was as the Ghost of Christmas Present in the musical, Scrooge, and the role of Scrooge himself at least one year. Allen had a magnetic and charismatic presence on the stage.

For at least one year of the performances of Scrooge, Allen's third son, Max, played the role of Tiny Tim, singing the powerful song, "On this Beautiful Winter's Morning," while Allen, dressed in his role as the Ghost of Christmas Past, stood behind in the shadows. Yesterday at the graveside service, Max sang this song one last time.

The Extended Stoneman Family

Extended Stoneman Family in about 1976
Harper and Ena Stoneman are standing on left

Meeting Allen’s parents, Harper and Ena, and his siblings gave me deeper insight into the unique background of my future brother-in-law. I later had fairly close connections with Allen’s family. Allen’s Dad was the first-ever security officer for the modern Church, and so Harper occupied a desk in the lobby of the Church Administration Building that I passed whenever I would go downtown to visit my Dad, who was the Secretary to the First Presidency. Later, after my mission, I worked with Harper directly when I became a member of the expanded Church Security force and was assigned to Temple Square. Harper manned the security station at the gate to Temple Square, and I spent many hours talking with him. He was full of stories and anecdotes, having had a deep connection to the personalities of the Church for decades. Soon after his mission Harper had sung solos in General Conference, and his wife Ena had sung in the Tabernacle Choir. Having run the family grocery store, Stoneman Grocery, on “B” Street for decades, Harper also knew many residents of old Salt Lake City. Even later, Harper and Ena became clients of mine when I practiced law, and I prepared their wills.

A favorite memory of mine occurred on New Years Eve of 1978. This was a few months after my mission and I had gone on a double date with Ruth and Allen to hear Clay Christianson play a New Years Eve organ concert at St. Mark’s Cathedral. After the concert we drove up to the Stoneman house on “B” Street to watch the new year come in. A few minutes before midnight, Harper said, “All right, everyone. It’s almost time to go out on the front porch.” We all went outside and at the stroke of midnight a neighbor started playing a trumpet solo—Auld Lang Syne, I believe. The porches of all the houses up and down “B” Street were filled with neighbors watching what had been a decades-long tradition. 

Another favorite memory occurred at Thanksgiving in 1978 or 1979, when I was still single. It turned out that my parents were out of town for Thanksgiving, and so Ruthie prepared a Thanksgiving feast at our house on Yale Avenue. A few others were invited to join, including Allen’s oldest sister, Catherine, who is a truly gifted pianist. Before and after dinner Catherine played on our piano—now Ruthie’s piano—while we gathered around and sang. This was impactful to me, and part of my key development as a lover of music. The desire to have my children study piano was definitely impacted that day. I remember particularly to have been deeply touched as Catherine played the entire canon of Christmas carols by Alfred Burt that day. 

Allen as the Servant of Mankind

Our Wedding Party: 1980
Allen is on the far right
He helped almost everyone in this picture to move

Because of his size and physical strength, Allen was often called upon to help people move. I believe that he helped us, in one way or another, for almost every move we ever made in our married lives, including our move from one building to another when both Julie and I and Ruth and Allen lived in University Village. For that move, we didn’t use a vehicle, but carried furniture by hand from building to building. Most difficult was Julie’s piano, which as I recall Allen carried down the stairwell almost single-handed. He also flew back to New Jersey to help Mark load up a moving van and drive it cross-country to Utah with our brother-in-law, Tim Burton. (I don’t recall how I dodged that experience, but I did—sorry Mark!)

Allen never complained about being asked to help, but always seemed pleased to do so. It seemed to be part of his nature. After Allen’s death, we heard countless other stories about how he had willing served those around him, including mentoring generations of boy scouts, many from poor circumstances.

Allen’s Leadership Ability

Allen Stoneman sitting behind my late parents,
Helen and Frank Gibbons. Allen conducted
both of their funerals as a Bishop.

Not long after Ruth and Allen were married, they moved to Southern California where Allen went to school and worked. Almost immediately after they arrived, Allen was called as a counselor in the branch presidency. Thus began a lifetime of leadership opportunities. He was later called as a counselor in the bishopric in their University ward, then as Stake Clerk in the University Stake under President Cecil Samuelson. Later, Allen was called again at least two or three times as a counselor in bishoprics, and finally as bishop of the Canyon Road Ward, where he served until his death. In the Canyon Road Ward Allen conducted the funerals of both of my parents, who also lived in the ward.

I come from a family of Church leaders—my father having served as a stake president and later as a General Authority, and my older brother having served as a bishop and stake president himself. But I can say unequivocally that Allen Stoneman possessed more charisma, emotional and interpersonal intelligence, and native leadership ability than all of us Gibbons combined! He was truly a great leader and made a great contribution with his flock. Had his service played out on a more conspicuous platform, he would have been a world changer.

Birth of Ben and Trip to California

Gibbons family, 1975
I'm standing on the top left
directly above Ruth and Allen Stoneman

Ben Stoneman, the eldest child of Allen and Ruth, was born on July 12, 1976, about a month before I left for my mission to Germany. Ruth and Allen were living in California at the time. I recorded the event in my missionary diary, which I had started keeping:

Monday, July 12, 1976

7:00 a.m. At 4:00 this morning we were aroused from slumber by a telephone call from Allen who told us that Ruthie had entered the hospital and the baby was bound to arrive shortly. At about 6:00 we received a second phone call from Allen who proudly reported the birth of his first child; a son, Benjamin Bannatyne Stoneman, by Caesarean section. Early reports indicate a shock of black hair and a lusty yell. Ruthie, who was still awake, was reported to be all right and both she and Allen are very excited.

I was correct in my prediction of the sex of the baby (Seeentry for July 10). Ruthie will raise a lot of boys. Ruthie will be called blessed by many sons.

About ten days after Ben’s birth, I drove with my Dad to San Diego, where we picked up Mom, who had been staying with Ruth during her first week home from the hospital. We spent a week in Southern California, where we rented a beach house in La Jolla, near San Diego. During that week we spent many hours with Ruth and Allen and little Ben.  Here are some excerpts from my diary for that week, which give a little glimpse into the early married life of Ruth and Allen:

Tuesday, July 20, 1976

We left Yuma at about 9:00 and drove to San Diego, arriving at about noon or 12:30. . .  . In San Diego we had the car washed and then with difficulty found Allen’s and Ruth’s apartment on Altadena Avenue. A little Jewish woman finally gave us directions and we found it.

It was really good to see Ruthie and Benjamin and Mom. Benjamin is great. He has a very healthy set of lungs. Ruthie was looking very well and seemed to have that special look of motherhood about her.

Mom prepared lunch for us in their apartment.

The local Elders came by to get a glass of cold water. Apparently the local Elders are in and out of the Stoneman house. Their names were Rhodes and Nielson from Rigby, Idaho and Nephi, Utah respectively.

We all left (Dad, Mom, Ruth, Benjamin and I) for our beach motel room. We are checked into the Breakers Motel. After all was unpacked, Mom left for the store to buy groceries and Dad watched Benjamin sleep and ruminated in the room.

Ruth and I walked down to the surf with her twelve-string guitar. .  .  .  Ruth played and sang for me a song she wrote six months ago for her unborn child, and one which I think is called, “I Love November.” Ruthie’s art is tremendous.  . .  . Ruth told me that she only writes when her emotions are in an extreme, melancholy or joy, etc. She plays the chords that match her mood and then writes the melody and then later the words and poetry fall in place. .  .  .

Allen arrived at the motel at about 7:00 and we had dinner in our little kitchen.

After dinner Ruth, Allen, Dad and I took the Frisbee down to the sunset-lit beach while Mom stayed in the room with Ben.

Dad and Allen and I played catch until Dad tired out. Allen and I gradually went further and further away from the dry beach to retrieve and throw the Frisbee until we were both soaked through in the warm sea.

After our invigorating swim, we returned to the room to change and dry out. Ruth and Allen took Ben and went home but will return tomorrow.

Wednesday, July 21, 1976

. .  .  The day was spent swimming and relaxing or doing whatever seemed appropriate at the moment. The cloud cover burned off around noon and the sun shone through.

Mom arrived with Ruthie and Ben after she helped with the Stoneman wash.

Allen got here at about 6:00 after work and we had a nice dinner here in the motel. After dinner Allen and I went swimming. I was extremely tired this evening from a day of swimming and sun and went to sleep shortly after dinner.

Thursday, July 22, 1976

. .  .  We are in unit number 2 of the Breakers Motel just south of La Jolla, California. The unit consists of living room, bedroom, kitchen and bathroom. See map.  The bedroom sleeps 2 and 2 more can be accommodated in the living room on the two combination bed/couches. There is a television set in the living room where Dad, Mom, Allen, Ruth, Benjamin and I have watched the Olympics every night.

Ruth and Benjamin arrived with Mom in the afternoon. Benjamin is a rather funny baby. He has an extremely powerful set of lungs and he lets everybody know when he is displeased. He has picked up many nicknames in his short life. Mom calls him “Garn.” Allen and Ruth often call him “Ben-Ha-Meen.” Also he is called “Cargo” boy.

. .  .

Allen arrived here at about 5:00 or 5:30 and we had dinner and then watched the Olympics on T.V. until Allen and Ruth left.

Friday, July 23, 1976

Allen told me the other day that the LTM is the greatest experience on a mission. I am excited about my mission though I feel a little apprehensive and nervous about it.

Yesterday Ruthie and Allen and I took a walk along the beach after dinner last night. It was a pleasant experience in the sunset. We stopped and made a sand castle before returning.

Mom and I left the motel apartment at about noon and drove to the Stoneman’s apartment. We found Ruthie with Benjamin, who had just completed his breakfast and was burping.

Mom helped Ruth with the wash while I mowed, edged, raked and watered the yards. There are many interesting varieties of unusual tropical plants around the apartment.

When we returned to the room, I went swimming for several hours.

We had dinner after Allen arrived from work and then spent the evening relaxing. A game of Frisbee outside came to a speedy halt after Dad missed a catch and was hit embarrassingly in the mouth by the Frisbee.

Saturday, July 24, 1976

Ruthie, Allen and Benjamin arrived late in the afternoon and we enjoyed their company all afternoon.       

Sunday, July 25, 1976

Dad and Mom and I drove to the Stonemans house and picked up Allen, Ruthie and Benjamin and took them to their Sunday School at the College Branch. The branch meets in the San Diego Institute Building. We attended the Sunday School class taught by Allen. Allen is a great teacher. He is a member of the Branch Presidency.

We dropped Mom, Ruthie and Ben off at the Stonemans’ apartment and then Dad and Allen and I drove to get dinner. We bought five quarter-pounders, five french fries, five root beers and three apple and two cherry pies at a McDonalds drive in and then took them to the Stonemans’ house where we ate it.

After we had relaxed for a while, Ruth and Allen drove along with us in our car and gave us a guided tour of San Diego.

First we drove through Balboa Park. The park is beautiful and the way they have preserved the great trees and natural setting along the freeway is ingenious.

We went to the Mormon Battalion Memorial visitors center operated by the Church and looked through. .  .  . 

We drove through Coronado and I was impressed by this elegant, beautiful city.

Monday, July 26, 1976

Andy Gibbons and his wife Marsha and their children Andy, Steven, Emily and Rebecca came and had Family Home Evening with us on the beach and in the apartment. We had a dinner of Kentucky Fried Chicken and “MacFeasts” from Mac Donalds. It was quite cold and overcast, but Allen and I went for a swim after dinner.

We all retired to the room where we had ice cream bars for dessert.

Dad organized a program for Family Home Evening. Andy IV offered the prayer opening the meeting. Andy III brought his guitar in and sang several songs with his family. Ruthie played and sang the song she wrote for her unborn child. I played 2 songs on Andy’s guitar. Allen told of an experience from his mission. Mom told about President Kimball and about their trip to England.

Andy and Marsha have a real houseful. I was amused, when Allen began to tell the story from his mission, at the very outset one of the little boys said, “I don’t believe it.”

Tuesday, July 27, 1976

This is our last day at the beach. .  .  .

After our dinner, Allen, Dad and I adjourned to the beach where we played Frisbee. Ruthie joined us later.

When Dad tired out, Ruthie, Allen and I took a walk to the north of our motel.

Ruthie and Allen, according to my inexperienced estimate, are well matched. I can see them in a few years with a houseful of boys and still laughing and having fun. It is my wish that I may marry a wife who will be as suited to me as Ruthie is to Allen.

On the return walk home, Ruthie and Allen introduced me to a favorite pastime of theirs—composing poetry impromptu. One person starts the first line and the other person completes as quickly as possible with a second, rhyming line. The results are great!

Allen Blesses Ben

A couple of weeks after this California trip, Ruth and Allen and Ben returned to Salt Lake, where Ben was blessed. Allen’s blessing to his firstborn son impressed me greatly as a young man of nineteen. It has probably affected me more in my role as a father and grandfather than almost any other event of my life, other than the blessings I received from my own father. I saw Allen with new eyes dating from this experience. He spoke like a true patriarch, filled with love and power and vision as he pronounced a prophetic blessing upon little Ben. I recorded the event in my diary as follows:

Friday, August 6, 1976

In the afternoon Ruthie and Allen arrived with the boy Benjamin. Bill Stoneman was married today and they attended his wedding. 

Tonight was one of those nights where one enjoys family. The Gibbons and Stoneman families met in our shaded backyard where 12 of us brethren holding the higher priesthood took Benjamin Bannatyne Stoneman and stood around him as his great father gave him a fine father’s blessing. Those in the circle were myself, Mark, Dad, Grandpa Bay, Allen, Harper Stoneman, John and Bill Stoneman and some of the Stoneman relatives.

Allen pronounced the most beautiful blessing I have ever heard.

Allen's Posterity

Ruth Bay Gibbons Stoneman with her
grandchildren at the viewing of
Allen Bannatyne Stoneman

Allen and Ruth have five children, Ben, Sam, Molly, Max and Augie, and twelve grandchildren so far. At the viewing a few nights ago it was so touching to see the grandchildren gathering around my sister, Ruth, as they mourned their "Jumpertz," as Allen is known in the family. It brought to mind the line from the movie, Shadowlands: "The pain now is part of the love then. That's the deal!"

Assessment of Allen Bannatyne Stoneman

Sixty-five seems an awfully young age to “shoot on over,” as we say euphemistically in our family. On the other hand, when you’ve finished your life’s work, as Allen has, there’s never a better time to say finis. The night before Allen passed away, he returned home from receiving some outpatient surgery and spent several hours writing letters and finishing up some duties as Bishop of the Canyon Road Ward. He then wrote a letter to his siblings. Finally, before falling asleep, he spent some time watching videos of his grandchildren on the video app, Marco Polo. 

Allen’s early death reminds me of one of my favorite quotes:

Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming ‘Wow! What a Ride!’

—Hunter S. Thompson, The Proud Highway: Saga of a Desperate Southern Gentleman, 1955–1967

What a ride, my friend and brother, Allen Stoneman! What a ride!

Allen and I graduated the same day from the
University of Utah in 1983
Julie and Ruth were both pregnant at the time
and later that year delivered Jenny and Max