Elder L. Tom Perry was an amazing man whose life spanned nearly a century and took him from a Cache Valley farm to high levels of American industry and retailing and then to the apostleship of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. But beyond that, he was the kindest of men, a true disciple of Christ and champion of the family. He was a great listener and personal adviser, a man who thought of himself as no better than anyone else, and a man we all should continue to learn from and emulate.
We count it a great joy to have had a lifelong association with this giant of a man, who died May 30 at the age of 92.
Elder Perry and his remarkable wife, Barbara, are among our dearest friends. But more than that, they have been our mentors.
Our children think of them almost like grandparents, and Elder Perry performed most of their marriages. The Perrys made the time to stop by our Bear Lake reunions on the way to summer gatherings in Barbara’s hometown of Cokeville, Wyoming, near my (Linda’s) hometown of Montpelier.
We love them. Our children love them. And we could not pass up this chance to extend a personal tribute.
My (Richard’s) mother was a classmate of Tom Perry's at Logan High School, but my first personal association with him came when I was an LDS missionary in New York City and Westchester County and Elder Perry was the stake mission president. He was a leader at the Mormon Pavilion at the New York World’s Fair, and his enthusiasm and zeal for the church and his deep dedication to Christ made an indelible impression on me and the other young missionaries who were guides at the Pavilion.
Three years later, when we packed ourselves up and moved to Boston for graduate school, Elder Perry became our stake president. He was also my boss when he hired me during the summer to work at Lechmere department stores, where he was financial vice president. We house-sat for him and his first wife, Virginia, while they traveled.
We remember one church meeting where he stood at the podium and asked, in his booming voice, “How many of you men will join with me in a commitment to take our wives on a date once a week to continue our courtship?”
A few hands went up immediately, and then there was a lull. Elder Perry just stood there, hand held high, looking at us. He waited until every man in the large hall had put his hand up.
Elder Perry was always family oriented, always positive and always enthusiastic, and he always had time for everyone who needed him.
After graduate school, we moved to Washington, D.C. Elder Perry, by then an apostle, visited and stayed with us a few times. Wanting him to be comfortable, we put him in our bedroom on the large round waterbed we were so proud of. (Remember, this was the 1970s.)
It wasn’t until years later that Elder Perry told me that those were the worst nights of his life. “I felt like I was at sea all night,” he said, “and whenever I rolled over, it was a storm at sea.”
It was during the nation’s bicentennial celebration that we learned more deeply about the patriotic side of L. Tom Perry. He was the chairman of the church’s bicentennial committee, and I was his assistant. He wanted the church’s observations to fully celebrate America’s freedom and the unmatched leadership of the Founding Fathers. He taught me again and again the exceptionalism of this country and the privileges we owe to God and to those who fought and died for our freedoms. We traveled with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir on their bicentennial tour to Boston and Philadelphia, and it was Elder Perry’s leadership that gave the trip energy and light.
During our mission presidency in London, Elder Perry toured the mission and stayed at the mission home whenever he and his wife Barbara, whom he had married in 1976 following Virginia's death in 1974, came through. This time when we gave them our bedroom, 18-month-old Saydi, soaking wet, crawled into bed between them in the middle of the night and, thinking she was in bed with her parents, stayed right there until morning.
In typical fashion, Elder Perry said, “I loved it. It made me feel young. It was like when I had a toddler of my own.”
As I consulted on some of his committees and assignments, I came to learn that behind his management expertise and his big voice and smile were a deep humility, a gift for listening, a willingness to give the credit to others and the kind of meekness that will inherit the earth.
We had a tradition of attending two basketball games a year with the Perrys, one a Utah Jazz game and one a BYU game. Neither team ever had a better fan or a bigger cheerleader than Elder Perry. He knew the game and he knew the players.
And he had suggestions for the Jazz coach, though I think he mentioned them only to me. I’m pretty sure his suggestions for the BYU coach were delivered more directly, though, because he always made a visit to the BYU locker room either at halftime or after the game. He motivated everyone with whom he came in contact. When our boys played for East High and one of them for BYU, Salt Lake Community College and Weber State, Elder Perry attended their games when he could.
The remarkable thing about attending games or other public gatherings with him was that he always had time to shake everyone’s hand. No one was insignificant to him. Instead of leaving early to avoid public contact, he stuck around and spoke with everyone who approached him, and was among the last to leave. And everyone got a smile and a word or two of encouragement in that booming voice.
Richard and Linda Eyre are New York Times No. 1 best-selling authors and founders of JoySchools.com who speak worldwide on marriage and parenting issues. Their next book is "Life in Full." Visit them at valuesparenting.com or TheEyres.com.