When I was a missionary in Trinidad one of the leaders that I worked closely with used to entertain groups of missionaries by playing the piano as we waited to be interviewed by our mission president. His name was Rich Lloyd, and he had a gift.
He would invariably begin by playing church hymns, many times without a hymn book. He would then sprinkle in hits from the Beatles or Motley Crue, which made some elders extremely happy. One of his favorites and a favorite every elder that I ever spoke with was his rendition of 'The Flight of the Bumble Bee,' which he played with such skill it was breathtaking.
I bring up Rich Lloyd because tonight I just found out he is dead.
I was scouring the Internet for any shred of news about BYU football or basketball and stumbled upon an article written by Gordon Monson of the Salt Lake Tribune. The article was about a friendship Lloyd, an avid University of Utah fan, forged from his deathbed with his BYU fan doctor.
It was clear from Monson's article that while cancer robbed Lloyd of his body, it couldn't touch the man's indelible spirit.
I remember attending leadership meetings and eating dinner with him on my last night as a full-time missionary. If I remember right, he loved to play basketball on P-day and was an intense but level headed competitor.
He was bold, talented and overflowing with class. He was so good to people, so selfless, that at first I thought it was an act. I quickly learned I was wrong.
When I read his name in the article today and saw his age, I wondered if the story was about him. I saw the picture of his wife and three children and hoped it wasn't about him. I knew that if the article mentioned his gift for playing the piano that it was going to be him.
And it was.
I knew for sure when I read a quote from his wife where she said she thinks about him whenever she hears 'The Flight of the Bumble Bee.' I do too.
I'm so grateful that I dedicated two years of my life to teaching others about the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I met so many great people that made an impact on my life. Elder Lloyd was right at the top of the list.
The world learned recently that a certain famous golfer is nothing like the image he wanted to portray. The Lloyd I knew was always willing to share his talents but he was understated about himself. The contrast between him and the golfer could not be more striking to me.
I thought this short story that his doctor shared in the article tells you all you need to know about the depth of this man.
From the doctor's journal, he wrote: "I saw Rich, pale, breathing shallow with an oxygen mask on and looking terrible. I introduced myself and walked to the bedside and grabbed and held his hand. His eyes were closed. I asked, 'How are you doing?' He opened his eyes, looked at me, and said with a smile, 'So, good. I feel great.' I laughed loudly as I thought he was being sarcastic. As I found out the rest of the night, sarcasm is a word that is not in Rich's vocabulary."
From what I could gather from the article, it appears Rich has been gone for about two years now. I'm glad Monson took the time to tell just a small part of his story. I believe he captured the essence of the man.
It reminds me of a quote I used in a story I wrote this week.
"It was good to be reminded that some things, good things, never change."
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