I knew the father in this one well. He was an adult, about my dad's age, in my ward growing up. The sons were a bit younger than me growing up.



I was taking a class from Dr. Bennion the semester that he died in a plane crash. He had already flown up from somewhere in the south like St. George, stopped in Provo and dropped off his wife, then flown on to Rexburg to drop off his son. His son tried to get him to stay the night and fly back to Provo the next morning, partly because he was tired, partly because weather didn't look good.