Alvin Hall Davenport, age 75 died on July 29, 2021. He was born in Santa Monica, California to Clin Davenport and Rilla Hall. He was married to Loa Richie from 1968 – 1993. He was the father of four children whom he loved dearly.
Alvin had fond memories of growing up in Santa Monica and going to the beach and working in his father and uncle’s restaurant, Pickle Bills. He served an LDS mission in Brazil where he enjoyed the language and being among the good people of Brazil; Portuguese stuck with him his entire life. He had musical talent in playing the piano and organ, and was often called as the organist for the church. He graduated from BYU and received his masters degree from the U of U in pharmacy. He worked as a pharmacist until he retired. He had a natural brilliance as a student throughout his academic career. His pharmaceutical expertise was always appreciated by family members. He enjoyed family gatherings and playing board games with his children and grandchildren. He had a love of travel and seeing new places. He was always up for eating out and going to the movies. His “Far side” sense of humor will be missed by all who knew him.
He is survived by his siblings; Colleen Later, Betty Gubler, John Davenport, and his sister-in-law Barbara Davenport. His children; Lisa Sanchez (Russ), Tamara Fitzgerald (Patrick), Brian Davenport, Tiffany Diaz (Erick); 11 Grandchildren: Annalisa Kruger, Salinas Cardenas, Skyler Fitzgerald, Zane Diaz, Caden Fitzgerald, Mercedes Diaz, Teá Diaz, Ariana Rosa Sanchez, Belén Fitzgerald, Kai Diaz, Tiffany Fitzgerald; 1 greatgrandchild: Braden Jude Kruger.
He was preceded in death by his father Clin Lanor Davenport, mother Rilla Hall, and brothers Vance & Shannon Davenport.
His legacy will continue to grow for generations to come.
His children would like to express their gratitude to his sister Colleen and her late husband Bud Later for their kindness and care they provided him for many years.
“Don’t you quit. You keep walking. You keep trying. There is help and happiness ahead. Some blessings come soon, some come late, and some don’t come until heaven; but for those who embrace the gospel of Jesus Christ, they come. It will be all right in the end. Trust God and believe in good things to come.” ― Elder Jeffrey R. Holland
A viewing will be held Tuesday, August 3, 2021 from 9:00 – 11:00 AM at the Harvest Hills 10th Ward with a funeral service following from 11:00 – 12:00 PM, 368 Aspen Hills Boulevard, Saratoga Springs, UT, 84045. Interment to follow funeral services at the Provo City Cemetery, 610 South State Street, Provo, UT, 84606.
Affordable Funerals and Cremations is offering livestreaming of the funeral service and graveside via Zoom. Please join the livestreaming at 11:00 AM by clicking the link: https://zoom.us/j/8012878233
Life Story Info
Hey dad. I just had one of my favorite road trips to see Brian in Utah. It's been a long time since I've been back to my home state and this trip was actually very amazing and positive. I wish you could have been there with us! We had a great time together. Please watch over my little Brother. He's such a valuable soul....thank you
Hey dad. I imagine it wasn't easy to take us 4 kids in the old tan/peach colored Fairmont Ford station wagon (a car that you despised!!) to Dairy Queen (DQ) for Monday's "Family Night"....Yet, you still did. I'll never forget you driving us to the Layton DQ drive-in on a Monday night and ordering us all a Dilly Bar...At the time, it was 5 for $1....!! You had to listen to all of us shout out which flavor we wanted...We would all sit in the back and "very back" of the Ford station wagon with our Dilly Bars and just loved it! The little things were so very important. Thank you for the little things...
How in the world were you able to accompany me on the piano?? You really had the most difficult part but you made it sound so simply beautiful! You let me play at my own pace, and you made the entire song come together so perfectly, even with all my mistakes. I'm forever indebted to you for giving me the love of music.
Hey dad. Tonight, I was thinking of a quote...something to the effect of, "They may forget what you said, but they will never forget how you made them feel."
During your time on earth, of all the things you said and didn't say, you always made me feel important. You made me feel confident. You made me feel talented. You made me feel strong. You made me feel independent. You made me feel like I could do anything. Every time I felt like a failure, your simple words were, "Don't worry, Lis. You'll figure it out." And when I told you my worries that people don't like or accept me, you said the same thing, "Don't worry, Lis. You'll figure it out."
You made me feel like it was OK to do nothing more than just be me.
Hey dad. I just watched an amazing spy movie tonight, set during the Cold War era. It was a true story. You would have loved it. After all, you're the one who got me interested in the 1959 movie, "North By Northwest." I couldn't help but think about the time you came to visit me in D.C. right after I had my first awful skin cancer surgery. It felt like you being there made me heal faster. I'm really thankful that while you were there, I was able to take you to the Library of Congress to show you where I was doing my thesis research. I don't remember talking a whole lot during your visits but I do remember you being there. Thank you for being there so often in your own quiet way.
Hey dad. It's Lis. Wow...what I wouldn't give to be sitting across from you in Skippers! .....The "fast food" fish & chips restaurant in Layton, Utah. You introduced me to malt vinegar on fried halibut and ever since then, it's always been one of my absolute favorites! The little things were so very important. Thank you for the little things...
Hey dad. It's Lis. One thing I remember about you is you were such a good listener. I was able to tell you what I thought about so many things, from science, to politics, to religion. You never judged me or my thoughts. You just listened. Over time, it became more difficult to verbalize my thoughts with you. But, you were always good at communicating through writing. When I lived in Nor Cal, I was so distraught about some things going on in my life at the time so I sent you an email, not really expecting a response, but it was nice to be able to write out my worries to someone. To my surprise, you responded with a typical you, simple response. Your response/advice validated my worries and helped me overcome them at the same time. Thank you for that. Thank you.
Hey dad. Lis here again. I'll always remember how you helped me make one of my high school formal dances so unique during the early 1980s. It was a "girl ask boy" dance so me and Stacey Butterfield asked two guys to go on a double date with us. You are the one who suggested that we could have a formal dinner at our house (instead of an expensive restaurant) and you offered to be our formal waiter since you had restaurant experience. I'll never forget sitting at our rectangle table in Kaysville, with my friends, while my dad served us with a white cloth towel over his arm. You were so much fun. That's the dad I remember.
Hey dad. It's Lis. I truly love and appreciate the fun things you taught me in the kitchen during the 1980s...when I got home from school and was "hungry," you would offer Bread, Butter, and Sugar! On Wonder Bread, no less....,which I don't even think qualifies as a food group with all its preservatives! But you made it so fun and "rebellious." Oh, and I really want you to know that I finally understand your fascination with a good avocado. Southern California used to be famous for them. When I was in elementary school, I was so disgusted by them and I didn't understand how you could eat them plain with salt. But now...every time I see an avocado, I think of you. It's my favorite breakfast...
Miss you, dad. I'm very thankful I had the opportunity to go to Peru with you and risk our lives flying over the Nazca Lines! I don't think I'll ever do anything that crazy again!
You are the one who figured we should stay in Mira Flores, close to the ocean. Good call :) Thank you for going on that journey with me during that brief moment in time...
Hey dad. It's Lis. I miss you...the real you... Of my siblings, I was so lucky to know you first...and that's not really saying much, because anyone who knew you, knows that you didn't share much of who you were. I still don't know your favorite color! But, I always imagined it would be ocean blue, like the beautiful California coast you grew up on. I can't even think of California, the ocean, or the Beach Boys, without feeling such a loss! So many people say they didn't get to know you because you never talked much about yourself. But, that is why I DO know you. You were a reserved man. A simple man. So very private in all your personal matters. This always begged us four kids the question, "How can we really get to know our dad, who is so private?" But, unbeknownst to us, we DID know you. That WAS you. I learned that to know you was to observe, listen, and read between the lines to understand who you were.
You were accomplished, generous, and humble. You were kind and unpretentious. I am so grateful that I have so many amazing memories and I was able to know the real you for the first 25 years of my life.
You were smart, and I mean genius smart. I have always been in awe that you made it through Pharmacy school while having me as a baby at the same time. You IQ was such a blessing. But it was also a curse. You were a bright pharmacist, who knew organic chemistry and math like the back of your hand. Because of you, I knew the square root of 25 before my first day of Kindergarten! Strategic and gifted, you could outplay anyone in cards. I mean, you made sure I learned how to shuffle a deck of cards before I had my first sleepover with my friends from the 15th ward!
You were an incredibly talented musician, to whom I owe my passion for music. One of my favorite memories will always be playing the violin, with you sitting right behind me to accompany me on the piano. To calm my nerves before performance time, you always told me to play the music at my own pace, with confidence, because you were right behind me to support and follow my lead. You did the same thing for me in every aspect of life! I learned so much from such a quiet, reserved person!
As you know, dad, I was your dreaded rebel child...the black sheep...the restless spirit...and the non-conforming daughter. I always felt like the sibling on the outside of the family. But never, ever, did I feel outside my family when I was with you. I felt judged my whole life, but you never judged me. You never criticized me or put down my life endeavors. You were nothing but supportive of all my decisions. As a senior in high school, I told you I was now going to college but instead, wanted to start a regular job. You supported me and said, "Wow Lis! That is a good idea!" Even though I knew damn well you wanted me to go to college. Then, 16 years later, when I finally got my Master's Degree, you seemed to be OK with that idea too :) No matter what, you were always a quiet cheerleader in my life, and proud of who I've become.
You were always in the background as my musical accompanist. Both literally and figuratively. You were a loving grandparent to my daughters, Annalisa and Ariana. I wish so much that your great-grandson, Jude, could have known you. He could really use your cynical humor. He would have looked up to you so much!
I have missed you terribly. But now, I am comforted to know you are finally free from your physical and mental prison. I am comforted in knowing I can look forward to the day I will join you again and talk with you. The real you...Alvin Hall Davenport. Chief Pharmacist. Genius. Musician. My Dad. I hope you will reserve a place for me, your far-from-perfect-daughter, on a heavenly stage, where you will accompany me as we play Boccherini's Minuet together again.