Russell Carlson Hansen

Russell Carlson Hansen

"All gardeners live in beautiful places, because they make it so."

June 22, 1924 ~ September 19, 2010

Russell Carlson Hansen, age 86, passed away September 19, 2010 in Salt Lake City, Utah. He was born June 22, 1924 in Salt Lake to Peter Raymond and Mary Matilda Carlson Hansen. He married Naoma Drechsel on March 3, 1946 in the Salt Lake Temple. Russell served in the Air Force during the Second World War flying B24 bombers. He graduated from the University of Utah in Business, working 17 years for International Harvester, and 24 years at Commerce Clearing House in retail sales.
His life of service in the LDS church included Bishop, High Counselor, Scout Leader, and 2 missions with his wife, serving in the Mexico Guadalajara, and The West Indies (Barbados) Missions.

His achievement as a Master Gardener qualified him to serve in the gardens at Temple Square, and as a host at the Conference Center.

His favorite things were family, church service, and gardening. If you were lucky enough to have enjoyed his flowers, his bountiful harvests, his pool and beautiful yard, you were lucky enough.

Russell is survived by his wife Naoma Drechsel and five children – Kent Hansen; Kathy (Wade) Noble; Marsha (Rod) Nelson; Ross (Janice) Hansen; Alisa (Paul) Canova; foster child Anita (Tom) Leak; 22 grandchildren and 24 great-grandchildren.

My sister Tia, cousin Taylor and I drove up Friday morning. I had all my kids dropped off by 7am (this fact alone caused rejoicing and tears - all at the same time - Matt was still in Alaska and my To-Do list was very overwhelming.) Once we were all in the car it was good. Tia supplied us with good humor and stories and "Conversation Cards". I'm not kidding on this one...she read off conversation topics to Taylor and I, and MADE us answer them. Taylor was actually really good. Taylor supplied us with the 90s on 9 channel and we all named the memory that popped into mind the second we recognized the song. A road trip was a good way to start the weekend.
The service was wonderful and yet another reminder at how they give us each an opportunity to celebrate the accomplishments of life, and to bask in each other's company. I love my family. I am so thankful that we can pick up right where we left off (which happened to be only 8 weeks ago.) As the family walked into the service we were greeted with lovely harmonica music - a passion of my grandfathers'. My mother gave the eulogy and she was beautiful and eloquent. She told stories of my grandfather's hard upbringing and how he was able to shed a somewhat rough life and start a new one with my grandmother. He was a master gardener and we all obsessed over the fruits and vegetables that he would grow. He always had a book that he was reading - this obsession with reading stems from both my grandmother (who would like to come back in her next life as a librarian) and my grandfather. Following the eulogy, the grandchildren were coerced into singing - we did this ONLY because our grandmother requested it of us, and all said a silent prayer that the congregation would forgive us our singing shortcomings - I think everyone had a secret plan to just start crying so they could blame the Tone Def-ness on the tears.
My uncle Ross also spoke. He gave several wonderful stories and managed to even work a river-rafting story in complete with a nudist colony as one of the elements of the story. (It also occurred to me that he is similar to my Father-in-law when it comes to outings and NOVICES. "It's just a small _____ (insert torture of choice: hike, canoe, raft, walk, swim, biking) expedition." The next thing you know - you're scaling the side of a mountain...He quoted poetry a favorite in the Hansen family - where anything other than a degree in English - is ridiculous! He spoke of my Grandfather's favorite poem by Myrna Welch "The Touch of the Master's Hand". I'm sure that as everyone sat and listened to him, they also tried to see how much of the poem they could recall from memory - without having to turn the program over to check their lines. It's a status symbol to be able to throw down on the poems ya know. A sister in the ward sang "Goin' Home" and it was stunningly beautiful. It made me think who I could recruit for my own funeral to sing such sweet, beautiful, comforting lines to those in attendance. Funerals are like that - they make you reflect on your own. (Taylor and I have ours all planned out - I prefer Invictus for my poetry- Scatter Sunshine for my hymn - and we both would like a tasty machaca throw-down dinner to follow - in case anyone is interested.)
The rest of the afternoon was spent in wonderful company. Laughing, storytelling, eating, internet searching and enjoying family. As I was browsing through my vast photographic history of my family - I couldn't help but smile at the wonderful relationships that we share. I am grateful for the legacy that my grandfather has left us and for the family that he and my grandmother have raised.

Tonight - we will be having a family home evening dedicated to Grandpa Great.