Randall P Bingham

Randy and I were best buds growing up. When he moved to Brigham, we were both about 7 years old. His birthday is exactly one month after mine. We were the only two boys in our ward that age. We took turns being the President of each Quorum and the other would be the Counselor. We started dating at the same time, went on many scout camps and overnights together and had many conversations about how to "figure out girls". I'm not sure either one of us ever did. Randy's dad, Vernon, was our Bishop during our teenage years and sent us both on missions. Randy went west to Japan and I went east to Ireland. I spent lots of time in that brick rambler that Vernon built. I remember that it cost the Bingham's $20,000 to build, even with Vernon's labor. I thought to myself, they'll never pay that much off! After school at Lincoln Elementary, we walked to Primary a few blocks away. Ned Young moved into the ward and gave made us a threesome for awhile. His mother taught us Guide Patrol and we worked hard to get our Duty to God Awards and get all 13 numbers on our banalos (sp?) representing the memorization of the Articles of Faith. He was always so happy when I would offer to come and help him fold papers and do his paper route. Sometimes I was able to come in from our farm outside the city and play at his house. His mother Bernice was always like a queen to me. She was so nice and treated me like an adult when she would talk to me. She would usually say that Randy was downstairs in his room in the basement. The basement was mostly unfinished at the time, but Vernon had framed some bedrooms and at one end was Randy's. He had some cool toys that I didn't have. His erector set and Lincoln Logs were favorites. One time as I approached his room to play I could faintly hear him singing through the closed door. I opened it slowly to listen. He was laying on his bed with his pillow wrapped around his face and was rolling his head back and forth while singing Rock-a-bye baby. I listened for awhile before I let him know that I was there. His first question of course, was "How long have you been there!?" "I heard it all!" I said, and then he tackled me. The fun wasn't over. The very next week or two the same thing happened again. This is too good to be true right? This time as I approached the door, I heard a lot of commotion with noise and banging around. As I cracked the door open, I could see him in a desperate fight with an imaginary foe. He was on the bed and on the floor and all over the place. He was wearing a long tan trench coat. At the height of the battle and just in time, he opened the trench coat to reveal some small plastic swords (they were blue and grey and had obviously been removed from his tiny Civil War Army set). He pulled one of the swords from his pocket and inserted it hard into the body of the imaginary bad guy and the fight was finally over. The good spy won over the bad spy. I learned later that the tiny sword was coated with imaginary poison and that had helped him take care of the poor enemy spy quickly and efficiently. That's when he noticed me again. I couldn't contain my laughter at his expense. I didn't use these stories very many times against him, but he and I both knew they were tucked neatly away in our memories just in case I ever needed them. Randy Bingham was good to the core; one of the best men I've ever known. He was trustworthy and loyal. I am of course upset that we didn't see each other very often as adults, but when we did, we began right where we left off. True friends forever never have a hard time getting it all back quickly. Stacey and I visited him in Mesa a couple of times early in our marriages. We were in the Air Force and lived all over the place, so getting together was difficult. I was horrified when I found out that he and Donna had separated. I couldn't believe it. I'd never seen a man more in love than he was. His excitement when they were married was over the top. It scared me a little actually. The last time I saw him was at Vernon's 90th birthday celebration. He was still the same ol' Randy and I still loved him like our lives had never had any interruption. When Vernon passed, I was unable to attend the funeral, but I went out to Coalville on my own after I got home to pay my respects to one of the greatest me of my youth. Now I must do the same for the best friend of my youth. To you who have time to read this, please know that you have a heritage second to none! I love you all because I loved him. Marty Reeder 612 St Andrews Drive Midway, UT 84049 martyreeder7@gmail.com