Marvin O. Ashton
Born: 8 April 1883
Called as First Counselor in the Presiding Bishopric: 6 April 1938
Died: 7 October 1946
Called as First Counselor in the Presiding Bishopric: 6 April 1938
Died: 7 October 1946
Biographical Articles
Improvement Era, November 1946, Marvin O. Ashton of the Presiding Bishopric
Improvement Era, November 1946, Marvin O. Ashton
Relief Society Magazine, December 1946, Marvin O. Ashton
Improvement Era, October 1953, Marvin O. Ashton and the Understanding Heart
Improvement Era, November 1946, Marvin O. Ashton
Relief Society Magazine, December 1946, Marvin O. Ashton
Improvement Era, October 1953, Marvin O. Ashton and the Understanding Heart
"Marvin O. Ashton of the Presiding Bishopric." Improvement Era. November 1946. pg. 693.
MARVIN O. ASHTON of the Presiding Bishopric Bishop Marvin O. Ashton, first counselor in the Presiding Bishopric, died quietly in his sleep on the morning of October 7, 1946. During the last three days, in apparently good health, he had made two addresses, one in a bishops' conference October 4, and the other at the concluding session of the general conference, October 6. Marvin O. Ashton—there was magic in that name—its mere mention would lighten the burden of the downtrodden and would bring a smile to the lips of the depressed. He was one to aid his fellow man as an opportunity where others saw only a menial task to be done. This one quality paid him well in dividends of friendship—one of his most prized assets. He loved to cultivate the friendship of boys and girls and of anyone who was once a boy or a girl. When, in April 1938, he was called as a member of the Presiding Bishopric, he brought a winning personality that had been tempered and trained in the British Isles as a missionary in 1907-1909, as bishop of the Wasatch Ward in Salt Lake City, 1915-24; as a member of the Granite Stake high council, and later in the presidency; as president of the newly organized Highland Stake in 1935; and finally in the Presiding Bishopric — all the time doing his share and more. Bishop Ashton was never alone on the street—he was always chatting with somebody, and if he chanced to catch the eye of another friend of his, it immediately became a three-way, a four way, or a six-way conversation. Strangers would come into that circle with only one thing in common—they knew "Marv" Ashton, and would go their different ways a few moments later feeling like bosom friends. His sermons and his articles, many of which appeared in The Improvement Era, and soon to be released in book form, sparkled with an ever-flowing good humor. We'd congratulate him on an anecdote he had used, and he'd say: "You know, I got that story from President Clark . . . from Brother Callis . . . from Bishop Richards ..." or he might name a humble member residing in one of the outlying stakes, or he'd mention a book on history or biography that we considered to be the driest thing in the world. If he had a hobby in his Church work, other than building men and boys, it was the beautification of Church property as well as the homes of its members, and he was looking forward to the Utah centennial year in this regard. A special interest of his, too, was the care of the Indian members of the Church, and he had obtained better housing for a settlement of them near the Utah-Idaho border. He was civic minded. He was instrumental in the erection of the monument in the Sugar House area of Salt Lake City which honors the Utah Pioneers and their attempt to manufacture sugar in that area. He aided in obtaining the Sugar House post office. He was the first president of the Sugar House Rotary Club. He was a former president of the Sugar House Businessmen's League. He had been president of the Utah Lumbermen's Association. He was a director of the Salvation Army, and only recently had aided in their drive for funds. "You know," he used to say when speaking of the work of the Salvation Army, "they get into places where we cannot go." Bishop Ashton was born in Salt Lake D City, April 8, 1883, a son of Edward T. and Effie W. Morris Ashton. On December 30, 1905, he married Rae Jeremy, and much of his success she shares. While he ministered to the Church, she was tacitly behind him, keeping him and their seven children going. Five of these children, with their mother, survive Bishop Ashton. Those who knew him best loved him most—a never-failing test of character. At his funeral services rare tributes were paid him. From Elder Sterling H. Nelson, of the general Church welfare committee, who worked with him as a counselor in the Highland Stake presidency, said of him: We learned from him that if we wanted a sweet night's rest we could get it by going with him on visits to these people who were having difficulties and sorrow, or family problems that were hard to solve, or financial difficulties. This being the time of the depression, in which there was so much discouragement, suffering, and financial difficulty, they needed help to get them to try and try again. We learned, without his knowledge, that although his income had been greatly reduced, he was taking from his funds and paying the rent and providing food and clothing for unfortunate people who were not members of the Church, poor suffering humanity who were so handicapped by their incompetence and ill health, without friends to assist, yet his heart encompassed them, too, and he let the instalments on his home go unpaid to give of his means to help these people. Bishop LeGrand Richards, as whose able counselor Brother Ashton served for eight years, said: We [my counselors and myself] knelt in prayer every morning in our office, as we commenced our labors of the day, and when it was Bishop Ashton's turn to pray, in his humble way of saying things—it was just as if he were talking to his own father or to one of us—he would say, "Now, Father, give us the good sense to do what we know to be right to do." It was always, "give us the good sense to do the things that ought to be done," and I liked that. From President George Albert Smith: Now he has gone to receive his reward. Nobody can keep it from him. He has believed in laying up treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not corrupt and where thieves do not break through and steal. He knew how to do that. It was by sending those treasures over to the other side while he was yet here, and those treasures are waiting for him over there in the immortal lives and companionships of some of the best men and women who have ever lived. . . . This man has had the opportunity to amass wealth, to curry favor, and to gain the honors of men here, but he passed that by as a matter of insignificance. Instead he was found holding the hand of his Heavenly Father, dividing his means with those who were in need, speaking a kind word to those who needed encouragement. He had his choice, and his choice has been that which will make him happy forever. And from Elder Oscar A. Kirkham, who, while speaking early in the services, perhaps best sums it up for the man, the servant of God: He will live at campfires, at Fathers' and Sons' outings, in the services of the smallest ward, and at the largest gatherings of our people. He was a builder. He took pride in work well done. . . . The Church will long remember his leadership in the beautification program. He was a humble man, and in this he carried the mark of wisdom and true understanding. |
MARVIN O. ASHTON
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"Marvin O. Ashton." Improvement Era. November 1946. pg. 720.
Marvin O. Ashton
On page 693 of this issue are some of the recorded facts of the life of Bishop Marvin O. Ashton. But no mere cataloging of names and dates and positions held can give adequate estimate of the service and influence of such a one as he. In his death we have lost much more than a man who faithfully fulfilled the routine responsibilities of his office and calling. Many men do this. But beyond this we have lost one whose great heart reached out in active, helpful sympathy to all those he knew were in need, whether of material or spiritual help.
As he went about his work in his unassuming manner, one would little suppose, perhaps, that his activities were of such variety and scope as they were. But his acquaintance with life was broad. He knew what went into the making of a physical structure—not theoretically but actually; not merely in terms of money, but in terms of toil and sweat, and skill and planning. He knew what it took to make walls rise from the ground. He knew what it meant to move men and materials.
He knew what it meant to build a business and to watch it through good times and bad times.
He knew what it meant to be a companion, not only to his own children, but to other men's children less fortunate than his own. He knew what it meant to share in sweet association all of the problems of life with a wife whom he had taken unto himself forever.
He knew what it meant to sit with men of means, and to deal in terms of millions, and he knew what it meant to sit with men to whom a few dollars would have meant the difference between having or not having something they needed badly.
He knew how to work with an organization, but he also knew how to put his arm around people—-and no man whom Marvin O. Ashton put his arm around ever doubted but what he was loved and understood.
He was one of those to whose door men came and unburdened their troubles and problems, and revealed their hearts, and went away lighter and freer and better and happier. The specified duties of his office and calling were numerous, indeed, but the things he did beyond the call of duty are innumerable—even to sharing with others his own means when he could ill afford it. And whether they belonged to his Church or some other, or whether they spoke the same language or some other, mattered not nearly so much as that all men were his brothers. And he treated them as such.
To say that we shall miss him would be to understate what was assured from the time when first we knew him. And to say that we look forward to renewing the companionship of such men as Marvin O. Ashton in the kingdom of our Father is to approach, in part at least, a satisfying concept of heaven.
His memory is cherished in the hearts of unnumbered people in the Church and out of it, and his place among the servants of our Father in heaven is eternally assured. May peace be with his family whom he cherished in life and who are joined in their sorrow by the hosts of men and women whose lives have been touched for good by his life. — R. L. E.
Marvin O. Ashton
On page 693 of this issue are some of the recorded facts of the life of Bishop Marvin O. Ashton. But no mere cataloging of names and dates and positions held can give adequate estimate of the service and influence of such a one as he. In his death we have lost much more than a man who faithfully fulfilled the routine responsibilities of his office and calling. Many men do this. But beyond this we have lost one whose great heart reached out in active, helpful sympathy to all those he knew were in need, whether of material or spiritual help.
As he went about his work in his unassuming manner, one would little suppose, perhaps, that his activities were of such variety and scope as they were. But his acquaintance with life was broad. He knew what went into the making of a physical structure—not theoretically but actually; not merely in terms of money, but in terms of toil and sweat, and skill and planning. He knew what it took to make walls rise from the ground. He knew what it meant to move men and materials.
He knew what it meant to build a business and to watch it through good times and bad times.
He knew what it meant to be a companion, not only to his own children, but to other men's children less fortunate than his own. He knew what it meant to share in sweet association all of the problems of life with a wife whom he had taken unto himself forever.
He knew what it meant to sit with men of means, and to deal in terms of millions, and he knew what it meant to sit with men to whom a few dollars would have meant the difference between having or not having something they needed badly.
He knew how to work with an organization, but he also knew how to put his arm around people—-and no man whom Marvin O. Ashton put his arm around ever doubted but what he was loved and understood.
He was one of those to whose door men came and unburdened their troubles and problems, and revealed their hearts, and went away lighter and freer and better and happier. The specified duties of his office and calling were numerous, indeed, but the things he did beyond the call of duty are innumerable—even to sharing with others his own means when he could ill afford it. And whether they belonged to his Church or some other, or whether they spoke the same language or some other, mattered not nearly so much as that all men were his brothers. And he treated them as such.
To say that we shall miss him would be to understate what was assured from the time when first we knew him. And to say that we look forward to renewing the companionship of such men as Marvin O. Ashton in the kingdom of our Father is to approach, in part at least, a satisfying concept of heaven.
His memory is cherished in the hearts of unnumbered people in the Church and out of it, and his place among the servants of our Father in heaven is eternally assured. May peace be with his family whom he cherished in life and who are joined in their sorrow by the hosts of men and women whose lives have been touched for good by his life. — R. L. E.
Hinckley, Bryant S. "Marvin O. Ashton." Relief Society Magazine. December 1946. pg. 820.
Marvin O. Ashton Elder Bryant S. Hinckley A GREAT Commoner has gone. On October 9, 1946, all that was mortal of Bishop Marvin O. Ashton was laid to rest in the Sunset Lawn Cemetery Salt Lake City, Utah, attended by a vast concourse of people eager to pay tribute to the man they loved. He lived abundantly, generously, and finished superbly. In the afternoon of the last day of his life, he preached a great sermon before the general conference of the Church; and while the words scarcely ceased echoing in the hearts of those who listened, he passed away. Death came in his sleep early the following morning. Three score and three years make up the span of his mortal days. His way of doing things was different, original, individualistic. Marvin Ashton was interested in widows, orphans, poor people, and boys. No better example of Christian living can be found than the record of his deeds. "He went about doing good." The philosophy of his life was made up of common sense, human kindness, generosity, and humor. He was a rare type of man; one of the common people grown great, indeed a great commoner. There are few such men. You rarely meet them, and when you do, you never forget them. People in need of help went to Bishop Ashton and he never failed them. He was a good citizen, a devoted husband, a great father, a delightful companion, a friend of youth, and a leader whom the people loved to follow. The entire Church and the community have sustained an irreparable loss in his passing. He has left behind a sweet and shining memory and sons and daughters worthy of the name they bear. Chiefest among the mourners is the wonderful woman who has walked by his side for forty years, the mother of his children. May the sweet influence that emanates from above comfort and solace her heart and the hearts of all who mourn. |
BISHOP MARVIN O. ASHTON
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MacCabe, Naomi Shepard. "Marvin O. Ashton and the Understanding Heart." Improvement Era. October 1953. pg. 749, 793.
MARVIN O. ASHTON AND THE UNDERSTANDING HEART by Naomi Shepard MacCabe Many of us knew him as a member of the Presiding Bishopric. Some of us knew him at the Utah State Capitol, as a member of the House of Representatives, as president of Highland Stake, or as bishop of Wasatch Ward, (now) Hillside (Salt Lake City) Stake. Maybe you did business with him when he was president of Sugar House Lumber Company or of the Rotary Club or when he was working on one of the dozens of other jobs he always held. All of us will remember the twinkle in his eye that reminded us not to take ourselves or the world too seriously. He lived with a zest and enjoyment that few men know. Sister Ashton once said to me, "He has a heart of gold. It is big enough for every man, woman, and child in the ward." That was when he was bishop of Wasatch Ward, and I was a teenager living next door. In those days I never saw him walk. He always ran. Like the day he made up his mind to build a chapel in Wasatch Ward! He came running across the lawn that separated our homes, in his shirt sleeves. He took our back porch steps two at a time before he knocked at our door. "Get your picks and shovels," he called, as I opened the door, "We're going to build a church!" He never said, "You do this." It was always "We'll do this." His enthusiasm was so great, his sincerity so strong, that news spread fast. When the building committee turned the first sod, every man, woman, and child who wanted to take a turn at the shovel were numbered among the firsts. We all felt a keen responsibility toward getting that chapel built. He made every member feel that the completion of the building would be a personal accomplishment. While we worked, Bishop Ashton was there, along with the rest of us, in overalls. He never stopped until the last man had gone home. He went among us, smiling and joking, making us feel that it was not work but fun. He knew how to play, too. Some Saturday nights while we were working, he'd call a halt around eight o'clock. We'd all go the few blocks to his home, stretch canvas, and dance and eat ice cream and watermelon. We teen-agers adored him! Several of us used to ride with him in his Ford to the Irving Junior High School. That was when he was manager of the Sugar House Lumber Company, which is across the street from the school. He would come steaming out of his house, his overcoat flying as he took his porch steps two or three at a time. He'd honk his horn lustily if we were not already in the car. Then he'd start singing, "Never Be Late to the Sunday School Class." One morning when I was the only passenger riding to school, he was very quiet. Just before letting me out he said, "Abraham Lincoln once said, 'I have been driven many times to my knees by the overwhelming conviction that there was nowhere else to go, my own wisdom and that about me seemed insufficient for the day.' You can get down on your knees in your heart and ask for guidance. That's what I've been doing this morning. Thanks for keeping quiet." He loved Abraham Lincoln. He'd talk about him as if he were a living brother and quote his sayings. It was Bishop Ashton who first made me acquainted with the greatness of Edwin Markham's poem about Abraham Lincoln, "The Man of the People." Bishop Ashton always had time for everyone and everything. He lived by the commandment, Love thy neighbour as thyself. He used to say, "Love every man, woman, and child who need help. Then help them!" He was a man of action. He practised what he preached. One night, just before Christmas, we'd gathered around his kitchen table to help Bishop and Sister Ashton pack baskets for the needy. I remember his saying, "There's one thing you can always be certain of, you'll never want as long as you share with others and pay your tithing." He understood the needs of the youth of the ward. He'd pray and sing and play ball with them. More than once I've seen him fall flat on his face to touch a base with his hand that he couldn't reach with his feet. He knew their hobbies and dreams and he used to say, "Hitch your wagon to a star, then don't fall off." He was never too busy to listen to troubles. He never criticized or censured unless he had a suggestion or a solution to help. Marvin O. Ashton was a great man, in stature, in mind, and in deed. He was a man who loved life, who loved people, both young and old. He will live as a great humanitarian; a man of gifts and accomplishments. There is one virtue he possessed that stands above all the others; it is not engraved on a marble monument, but it is stamped indelibly on the hearts of the people who knew and loved him, it reads: Marvin O. Ashton The man with the understanding heart. |
Marvin O. Ashton
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