Boyd Harmon Winder

March 31, 2020

Boyd Winder, who passed away on March 31, 2020, does not do obituaries. He does not do funerals. So, in lieu, his children would like to share what our family will reminisce about Dad around the campfire for the rest of our lives. 

We called him Dad, Pops, and Grandpa. We loved him, we talked back to him, we laughed with him, we hunted and cooked with him, we pulled pranks against him, and we ate crow many times when he got the drop on us. 

Boyd had many friends growing up in Springdale, Utah. He was raised by Floyd Enos Winder and Ramona Firm with three sisters and two brothers. This is where he pulled a lot of pranks, did some stupid things, got yelled at, and ran from a lot of people chasing him. He was a Hurricane High School Graduate where being left tackle in a line of great men and shop class were second to hunting and the mountains. 

Dad loved to hunt, and in the offseason, he’d sit on Kolob or East Zion and think about the hunt. He was dirt poor at times, rich at times, responsible all the time, and never lazy. 

Boyd loved two women in his life. Our Mom, Jill Wilkins and our bonus Mom Kristine Wayman. He was very proud of his four children and 13 grandchildren and talked about them often. We drove him crazy, made his hair turn grey, and in the end … became just like him. He once said his children turned out better than he ever was or imagined they would be.

Taught by his father, Boyd excelled at the chemistry of food and vocally admitted he would never be as good as his Dad. This tradition of the father continues for his children. Despite Dad’s teachings, we question if we will ever be as good in the kitchen as our Dad and not being able to ask cooking advice over a hard dish will remain a void for the rest of our lives. His homemade bread and pies, the Saturday Navajo taco specials, hot chicken noodle soup, and prime rib were just a few of his talents that are fondly remembered by his loyal customers. Boyd extended that talent to dutch oven campfire dinners on different game hunts, family campouts, and catered events. If Boyd was in the kitchen, you knew it was a good meal. 

Aside from his first Moose hunt with his son this year, Boyd did just about everything he ever wanted to do in his life. He experienced the joys of a family, cooed his grandkids to sleep on his chest, gave jobs, money, and guns to people around him, mastered the dutch oven, watched the Alaskan wildlife from his cabin porch, and taught his son to hunt. 

Due to the virus apocalypse, we are unable to have services at this time but will gather for some good food, laughter, and share lots of Boyd memories the first chance we get. 

Thank you to everyone who has shown love and compassion to Boyd Winder, Kristine Wayman and their children. It’s incredibly overwhelming to see how many lives have been affected by Boyd’s presence.

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