893. Why strong Mormon women stay in the church! So True! I know many of them!
I read the article below this obituary about "Why Strong Women Stay in the LDS Church." Then I read this obituary of Fae Picklesimer, and needed to remember her in this entry! I was her one of her visiting teachers for several years before I left St. George last April. She was delightful -- her mind was clear all her life. She taught school with my own mother, Ruth Allen Miles, (another strong LDS woman!) when she was beginning teaching, and my mother was nearing the end of her teaching years. They were great friends. She truly was an icon in St. George, and with all knew her. It was a privilege to know her, and be a friend to her!
BYU Speeches screenshot
Fae Garda Anderson Picklesimer
March 15, 1919 – Aug. 9, 2017
Fae Garda Anderson Picklesimer returned to her Heavenly Father on Wednesday, Aug. 9, 2017 after stuffing more into her short 98 years than most people fit into 125 years. She was an educator by profession and was instrumental in the early days of Utah’s reading and special education programs, raised three children and hordes of grand and great-grandchildren, traveled and hiked the world over, quilted and handstitched for over 40 years and served faithfully as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. She knew the Gospel of Jesus Christ was the perfect way to raise her children and believed giving service to others was the way to show her love of Christ. She gave often and freely.
Fae was born on March 15, 1919, to Neils Albert and Amy Deslie Lowe Anderson at Anderson Ranch, a sprawling fruit orchard and roadside stop located a short dusty stroll from “Toker” (Toquerville), Utah, and nestled in the shadows of the rugged volcanic and sandstone formations of Southern Utah that forever held her fascination.
Flight itself was just 15 years old when Fae was born, and when she passed, humans were on the verge of sending commercial flights into space. No doubt she would have signed up for a trip if it had been possible. Incidentally, it was her love of flying that led her to Ben Oakley Picklesimer, her ex-husband with whom she had three children — Mike, Gary and Colleen. Though she and Ben later divorced, Fae always adored Ben and even helped to care for him when his health declined before his death in 2003.
A wrongfully-failed eye exam kept her from becoming one of a select group of female civilian pilots who assisted with the U.S. war efforts during World War II, and she (jokingly) vowed to come back and “haunt that doctor who failed me, because I could have been a pilot!” Fae celebrated her 95th birthday in a helicopter buzzing the Virgin River and cresting the plateaus along the southwestern edge of her beloved Zion National Park.
And to her, the park truly was Zion. She instilled her love of Zion in her children and grandchildren who (eventually) looked forward to her summertime 4 a.m. wake-up calls. After all, to her there was no point in hiking if one didn’t hit the trail before dawn when all of nature’s wonderful sounds and creatures are just bedding down after a playful night.
Fae was educated at Dixie Junior College (now Dixie State University) and Brigham Young University where she earned a master’s in education. She turned down a teaching job so that she could join the Civil Aeronautics Administration as a control tower operator during the war.
After the war, Fae and Ben moved to St. George and she returned to teaching. She eventually helped to create a new reading program that later turned into a special education program. She loved her work and helping her students find the joy and confidence that comes through reading. Fae herself was an avid reader her whole life, typically bringing home (and finishing) a stack of books from the library every week.
Fae built a network of close friends with whom she traveled, hiked and quilted throughout her retirement years. Her Roadrunner friends were some of her dearest, with whom she shared birthday luncheons, Christmas cookie parties and worldwide travels. For 60 years these gals enriched each other’s lives. They were as near and dear to Fae as family – creating eternal bonds. Fae also loved her quilting circle. In addition to the many quilts she provided to those in need, she also served for many years in the St. George Temple, among other time spent serving others.
She loved traditions. One of her grandchildren’s favorites was the annual summer trip to the Veyo, Utah, swimming pool and recreation area. Fae and her friends coaxed the owners into opening the pool early for them and all their grandkids, and everyone would enjoy the refreshing spring water before sitting down for a made-to-order lunch of hamburgers, pronto pups and crinkle cut fries. Another beloved tradition was the annual New Year’s Day Glider Flying. Everyone gathered at a local hill to fly gliders, throw rocks and eat sloppy joes … all of which was merely a distraction to bide the time until returning to her house for her famous homemade carrot pudding and caramel sauce.
The family would like to thank Fae’s friends, neighbors and ward for being ever mindful of her needs. She will be truly missed.
Fae was preceded in death by her ex-husband, Ben Oakley Picklesimer, and her son, Gary. She is survived by her children Michael (Dotty) Picklesimer and Colleen (Greg) Thornock; daughter-in-law, Elsa Picklesimer; and numerous grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
Services
- Funeral services will be held Monday, Aug. 14, 2017, 11 a.m. in the St. George East Stake Center, 449 S. 300 East, St. George, Utah.
- Viewings will be held Sunday, Aug. 13 from 5-7 p.m. at Spilsbury Mortuary, 110 S. Bluff St., St. George, and prior to services Monday from 9:30-10:30 a.m. at the Stake Center.
- Interment will be in the St. George City Cemetery.
Why strong Mormon women stay in the church
Eva Witesman speaks at a BYU Devotional earlier this month.
Editor's note: This article from Eva Witesman is part of an ongoing Deseret News opinion series exploring ideas and issues at the intersection of faith and thought.
People often wonder why strong Mormon women stay in the church. As though a secular, godless, power-driven reality would be better suited to our intellects, our ambitions, our self-respect. As though the mere idea of religion (and the Latter-day Saint religion in particular) might be antithetical to our tenacious temperaments. But I have found that, at least for me, nothing could be further from the truth.
I was born knowing — knowing — that there was divinity in me. In the words of Sheri Dew, I was born for glory. We all were. I saw it in my mother, my grandmother, my sister. I think this is at the core of every strong woman: This knowing. This fire. This sense of eternal destiny. This greatness.
I remember learning about the restoration of the gospel — about angels reinstating long-hidden powers so that we could prepare ourselves and the world for the second coming of Christ. I knew that I was meant to be part of this throng of Latter-day Saints. These fulfillers of prophesy. These waymakers. I heard these things and somewhere inside of me, a burning voice said yes.
I remember learning each gospel truth like a crescendo of dominoes. I am a child of God. Yes. The Book of Mormon is His word. Yes. Joseph Smith was a prophet. Yes. There are prophets on earth today. Yes. The power of God is moving on the face of the earth. Yes. I am His daughter and meant to be like Him. Yes. I can become an heir of God, a creator, a goddess in the eternities. Yes, yes, yes.
There have been times, however, when that affirming voice has been silent. It is a favorite argument of the critic to suggest that the confirmatory spirit deep in our souls is merely some optimistic hope — that we are deceived by appealing stories that we wish were true; that we fall prey to pretty lies.
But there were no pretty lies to console me when facing the greatest challenges of my life. Mere hope, mere idealism, mere desire for some beautiful reality did not resonate so deeply as the knowing — the yes — of faith. In the depths of my own life’s pain, there was no comfort in empty promises. No consolation in lovely words or aspirational fantasies.
The only true hope I felt was when I discovered truth through the still, small, burning yes. Here, in the crucible of experience, I clung to this power of discernment. This is how I learned that there is more than yes. There is also no — a lonely, cold, confusing emptiness. And there is not yet: a whisper of understanding accompanied by knowing that the truth is just beyond my reach.
Why do strong women stay in the church? I cannot answer this question for anyone else. But I can answer it for myself. I stay because of yes. Because when I keep my covenants, I have the power of knowing — seeing — in a way I cannot achieve without my Father in Heaven. No man or woman can; we are all equally reliant on the God who fills the empty vessels of our humanity with His love and His power.
I stay because through the power of yes I have seen and felt and understood transcendent truths about the eternities and my role in them. I stay because through the power of yes I have learned what real authority is, and what it is not. What is true, and what is counterfeit. What is real, and what is misunderstood. What has been revealed, and what is yet to come.
I stay because I understand that we are a church comprised of imperfect people figuring out how to safely use the fire given to us by the heavens. With this charge come mistakes, failures, misunderstandings, and sometimes even inequity and injustice. This is why our pleading for more knowledge continues to be met with not yet. But some day, not yet will give way to a glorious yes, just as it always has before — line upon line.
I stay because I know — have always known — that there is greatness in me. And through the gift of the Holy Ghost, through yes, I have learned what that greatness is. That in addition to the transcendent gifts I already possess, there is more inside of me that is just beyond my reach. Present but hidden. Real, powerful, essential and necessary, but veiled. Something new and great that builds on the greatness I already have the privilege to exercise. By the power of yes, I see not subjugation but preparation and the promise of more to come.
Eva Witesman is an associate professor at the Romney Institute of Public Management at Brigham Young University.
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