Tuesday, July 15, we gathered to honor my father. We had a really good gathering. Many of his ward members and dance people attended. In addition, we had us (Becky, Ruth & I), our spouses, our kids and our grandkids. A zoom link was shared so there were some people that were able to attend remotely as well.
It was a warm sunny day and everything went really well.
Life Sketch for Raymond George Laurito
Delivered by Shelly Griffin, Rebecca Chase & Ruth Laurito
Good morning everyone,
Thank you for being here today to honor the life of our father, Raymond George Laurito—a man of quiet strength, humble intellect, and unwavering kindness. I am Shelly Griffin, Ray’s oldest daughter, and my sisters and I are going to share a glimpse of dad's life and some of our fondest memories..
Early Life (Shelly)
Dad was born on July 23, 1938, in New Kensington, Pennsylvania. His parents, Nick and Helen, were Italian immigrants who could never have imagined the skilled engineer and deeply devoted father he would become. Yet, that's precisely who he was—an unassuming man who left an enormous impact, not through force or fame, but by simply living with integrity, patience, and love.
His parents, Nick and Helen, were from Italy. My grandfather, Nick, came to America first, settling in Pennsylvania, and then sent for Helen for what was an arranged marriage. Together, they built a life on a 70-acre farm in rural Pennsylvania, raising five children: Rose, Nick, Helen, Joe, and Ray. Their home, which has incredibly stood for 150 years and was recently sold, was a testament to their modest living. I fondly remember its unique circular back staircase from the kitchen to the bedrooms, separate from the main staircase in the front entry to the bedrooms—a perfect setup for endless games of chase. We loved playing in his childhood home.
My grandparents deeply desired to embrace American life. They spoke exclusively English at home, a choice that showed their commitment to their new country. While my grandmother, despite her thick Italian accent, embraced the language beautifully, my grandfather was a man of few words. After long days working the farm, he'd often sit on the bottom steps of the circular staircase, quietly observing the lively commotion our family brought to their home.
It's interesting how my dad mirrored his father in this way. He, too, was a quiet man who seemed to genuinely enjoy the family's energy, preferring to observe and soak it all in rather than join the boisterous noise. The farmhouse, with its three porches, offered countless hours of peaceful country living. We'd often move from one to another, following the sun or seeking relief from the heat, simply visiting and enjoying the peaceful green fields and hills sprawled out around us.
Their hard work and profound frugality left an indelible mark on my dad. I remember my grandmother had only five dresses she'd rotate, wearing them until they were threadbare. My mom eventually had to insist on replacing them, a hard sell that underscored their commitment to living modestly. This frugality was a defining characteristic of my dad too. He had a favorite striped sweater he wore for as long as I can remember, preferring to care for his clothes rather than chasing trends. Similarly, he'd buy a car and care for it for years, diligently logging every gas stop, mileage, and calculating miles per gallon—a true engineer's dedication to efficiency.
Our family was what you might call "part-member." My mom converted to our church early in their marriage, but my father, for many years, resisted. While always supportive of our church attendance, he never got baptized. This was a deep sadness for my mother, who longed for the priesthood in her home and an eternal family. She remained steadfast in her faith throughout her life, but when she passed away, Dad was still a non-member.
Then, a couple of years after her death, he completely surprised me. He called and invited us to his baptism, even asking my husband, Andy, to baptize him! Andy had served a mission in New Jersey, where I grew up, and had taught lessons in our home as a missionary. It truly was the longest conversion story from his mission!
After his baptism, Dad embraced the gospel wholeheartedly. He accepted callings, teaching primary, helping arrange assistance for ward members in need, and serving as an usher at the LDS Conference Center. He also went to the temple and was sealed to my mother. I know, without a doubt, that she was overjoyed to have her lifelong desire fulfilled.
Dad had a mischievous side, a subtle humor that always brought a twinkle to his eye. On long road trips, he'd let the gas gauge drop to empty, feigning concern about making it to the next gas station. He knew exactly how far he could push it, of course, but his sly grin always made us nervously laugh along. And while he wasn't one for boisterous laughter, when something truly cracked him up, his unique belly laugh was infectious, making you laugh with him regardless of the joke.
He wasn't much of a game player, but I have a hilarious memory of him trying to play Taboo. Being Italian through and through, he couldn't speak without using his hands. When we'd try to hold them down, he'd simply start to stutter, unable to form a sentence!
Growing up, I never once heard my dad raise his voice. Not once. He possessed a rare gentleness, a calm that could steady an entire room. Even discipline, when it came, was measured and meaningful. I only remember being spanked once, and honestly, I'm still convinced I didn't deserve it—my brother had done something, and I took the fall for him!
Dad had another funny quirk: he would "watch" football games stretched out on the couch, his head turned completely away from the screen. If you dared to change the channel, he'd immediately exclaim, "Hey, I was watching that!" We quickly learned not to mess with the TV if Dad was "watching."
One of my most cherished memories involves the early mornings when he'd wake me up to help with my math homework. He worked long hours, yet he always found time to patiently teach me algebra, geometry, and calculus before the sun even rose. I hated math, truly, but now, reflecting on his sacrifice, I appreciate those mornings more than words can say. He taught me the value of tackling complex problems, working hard, and the importance of education, service, and sacrifice—the kind you don't even fully grasp until you become a parent yourself.
I always felt incredibly cared for. I had what I needed, and often much of what I wanted. He had a special place in his heart for me, and if I asked nicely, he would come through time and again. One of his favorite phrases was, "If you'll earn half, I'll pay the rest." That's how I got my Schwinn bicycle and many other things throughout the years. Even after I left home, when he learned I wanted LASIK eye surgery but couldn't afford it, he offered to pay for one eye if I paid for the other. He even chuckled, saying it was probably his fault I couldn't see, so he didn't mind helping correct it.
Growing up, I often felt a stronger bond with my mother because she was the louder, funnier, noisier parent. Her death 20 years ago was incredibly difficult; she was like the bridge between me and my dad. But over the years, I've realized more and more how much my father did to make my entire childhood possible. He worked tirelessly, provided for us, and always ensured we were taken care of. He taught us, by quiet example, how to work hard, pursue education, and become good people.
I am so grateful for all that he provided for me in life. Thank you, Dad. I love you.
Education & Career & Family (Ruth takes it from here)
I am Ruth Laurito, Ray’s youngest daughter and I’ll be sharing more about his Education, career and our family .
Deanna Jane Davis and Raymond Laurito were married on June 10, 1960. He was 21 and she was just 19. They worked hard for 8 years to complete his education. She worked as a legal secretary while he attended classes and worked part-time.
And yet, underneath his quiet and unassuming exterior was a sharp, curious mind. He was the first and only member of his immediate family that had graduated high school, and he didn’t stop there. Dad earned his associate’s degree in electrical technology from Penn State in 1962, and a few years later, a bachelor’s in electrical engineering from the University of Pittsburgh.
He studied hard while working as a veterinarian assistant—an arrangement that included an apartment, utilities, and a little cash, thanks to a generous vet who believed in him.
After that, he earned a master’s from the University of Pennsylvania in large-scale computing devices. These were not small achievements. This was a man who helped build one of the first digital telephone systems for Navy ships, and later helped convert outdated military software into cutting-edge systems using C++—long before most people even knew what that was.
He worked for three decades at Computer Sciences Corporation, which is now known as General Dynamics. I’ll be honest—we never really knew exactly what he did. We knew he had top secret government clearance and worked on computer systems for the military, but beyond that, it’s a mystery. I only visited the parking lot of his office once or twice, and we never got a straight answer when we asked him what he did at work all day. But what I do know is this: he worked hard and he shared that value with us.
He traveled often for work to places like Maryland, California, Florida, Canada, and London—always chasing down complex problems and quietly solving them. His work was as serious as he was modest about it.
As he successfully progressed through his career, he wanted to continue learning and improve his communication skills. He became a dedicated member of Toastmasters International and held various leadership roles in the organization. Through his dedication to improving his public speaking skills, mentoring others and service to the organization, he earned the Distinguished Toastmaster Award.
This award is the highest educational honor in Toastmasters International, recognizing superior achievement in both communication and leadership. It signifies a significant commitment to personal and leadership development within the Toastmasters program. Being the quiet man of few words he generally tended to be, he was very proud of this accomplishment and how these skills supported his career development and created better opportunities for him.
While he was certainly proud of his education and career successes, he was most proud of the family he created with our mom. After completing his education, they had been married 8 years and were seemingly unable to have children. In July of 1968, they adopted David Erik Laurito. He was just a week or two old when their dream of parenthood came true. Within a month of receiving David, mom became pregnant with Shelly who was born in May of 1969.
Five years later, in 1973, Rebecca arrived, and seven years later, in 1975, I completed our family.
They had many adventures and hardships as they purchased a home while David and Shelly were very little. I remember them telling us how they had saved and stretched to buy their home, knowing that the sacrifices now would pay off in the long run with improved financial stability. They remained in that home until all of us were raised, which was over 30 years. Our mom had big dreams and ideas, and could not wait for their next phase in life because they had continued to live modestly and could finally afford to splurge a little.
Our dad loved our mom, Deanna.. They were different in so many ways—she was lively and social and endlessly creative. He was calm and quiet, and deliberate. But together, they were balanced. Mom brought color and chaos, and joy to every room. She sewed, baked, painted, and created art simply because she loved it. She would have made a fortune, but she refused to sell a single thing, saying but, “Then it’s work…”... she would then explain that she didn’t want her creative art to be ruined by becoming work.
Living in Utah/Retirement Years (Ruth continues….)
In 1991, when mom was 50, she was diagnosed with cancer. She did chemo, radiation and all the things…she thought she had conquered it when she made it 5 years, and then 10 years…. But, we'll come back to this in a minute.
Education was very important to our parents and their expectations were made clear–it wasn’t IF we went to college, it was WHEN. Our parent’s support and commitment to our education had a profound impact on us…,all three of us daughters were accepted at BYU. Our dad wholly supported our individual journeys out west over the span of 7 years, not wanting us to worry about a thing so we could focus on our education. That didn’t stop any of us from getting jobs both in high school and while in college, which we thought they were adamantly against.
Although in retrospect, I wonder if they conspired to use reverse psychology on us, knowing their objection to us getting jobs would make us want to get one! If that’s the case, then they certainly got a two for one there, instilling in us not only the desire to complete our higher education, but a strong work ethic too.
It was clear that education came above all else and they made sacrifices to ensure we didn’t experience the financial burden they faced putting my dad through college and his masters degree. He sent Becky and I to school with a personal computer he built for us himself, and a printer, which was unheard of in the early to mid 90’s.
–Sorry, Shelly, that technology just wasn’t around when you left home. We got to go to Hawaii and California with mom and dad too, after you left the nest.
He worked hard and they continue to make sacrifices to be able to do those things for us. He even had a small business to make money on the side by building personal computers for people at the time when computers were just becoming obtainable for the average household.
Much to our mom’’s dismay, this also meant she had to wait until I graduated college before dad would agree to buy her a new car. You can imagine her mixed feelings when I finished my bachelor’s degree early but let them know my plans for graduate school. Dad was more than happy to keep supporting my education and delay buying my mom the new car she wanted for a few more years. She was on board with this too but would frequently remind me that her new car was dependent upon my graduation…a challenge I gratefully accepted and worked hard to make them proud.
In fall of 1998, mom’s dream of a new car finally came true and dad bought her a 1999 Buick Park Avenue Ultra Supercharged. She was elated and really looking forward to their next phase in life.
In 2000, our dad started to wind down his career as they prepared to leave New Jersey and move out west to live closer to all of us. In 2002, They built their dream house–my mom having literally dreamed about it, designed it and worked with architects and engineers to draw up the plans. They watched the house go up together, and my dad supported my mom’s dream of finally having a pool in their backyard. Having lived modestly and with a frugal mindset for years, you can imagine how much of a stretch this was for my dad, while my mom finally felt like they could enjoy the fruit of their labor after years of saving for their retirement.
And now the story takes a sad turn…our mom made it 12 years cancer free, but unfortunately it returned at the same time they were building their dream home, here in Riverton Utah. Though she only got to enjoy it a few years, she made the most of her time there swimming in the pool, living close to her grandchildren, making new friends, and enjoying the uniqueness of the home she thought about for decades and finally built. They were welcomed whole heartedly into the neighborhood and became beloved members of their LDS ward.
They had 44 years together, they raised four children, and while life had its challenges—including the heartbreak of a family member who struggled deeply—my parents never let bitterness take root. They simply kept going, doing their best to shelter us, teach us, support us, and love us through it all.
Mom passed away in 2004, shortly after her 64th birthday, when her body could no longer battle the cancer. She fought long and hard though, desperately wanting more time with her children, grandchildren, friends, and the spouse that she loved. Through surgeries, treatments, and even experimental therapies, she was always trying to stay strong for us. In her final days, surrounded by the people she loved, she left this world with grace.
After mom's passing Dad picked himself up and tried to keep busy while he was alone. He took Spanish classes and developed his love of dancing. His dancing led him to the second love of his life…
Suzanne Fitzgerald danced into his life and he married her on May 29, 2009. He gained a bonus son and daughter in law, Tony and Marissa Davis, and then several more grandchildren to love. Ray and Suzanne enjoyed square dancing, ballroom dancing, Spanish classes, and served as guest service missionaries at the LDS Conference Center.
They loved watching the grandchildren grow and welcoming great grandchildren into the fold. For every birthday, they greeted us with a card and took us out to dinner. We enjoyed family get-togethers and holiday dinners. They celebrated with us and grieved with us when life threw us hardships. They enjoyed 16 years of marriage together.
In 2022, dad was diagnosed with Lewy Body dementia, though we had noticed subtle changes in him prior to his official diagnosis. It’s been a long road of initially a gradual decline, which seemed to hasten in the past year.
We want to thank Suzanne for her tireless efforts to care for him, be byhis side, and help him with routine daily activities as his body was able to do less and less and he needed more and more assistance.
There’s so much more I could say. About Dad’s loyalty. His wisdom, his kind heart. But I think what matters most is that HE WAS GOOD… Through and through. The kind of good that stays with you long after the person is gone. The kind of good that leaves a mark not on headlines or monuments, but in lives. In people. In moments. In our hearts.
Raymond George Laurito passed away on July 10, 2025, in South Jordan,
just days before his 87th birthday.
So today we remember Raymond George Laurito not just for what he accomplished, but for who he was—a gentle father, a devoted husband, and a wise man whose love will echo through generations.
We thank you, dad, for being who you are and helping us all become who we are today. You’ve done so many things to ensure we had our needs met and to make our lives better. We appreciate you, We love you. And we’ll carry you with us, always.
Thank you
Becky
On behalf of our family, we want to thank everyone for coming to celebrate our dad’s life today. I can already picture the grin that would be on his face if he could see those who have gathered in his honor to celebrate him today.
I am Becky Chase. I am Ray’s middle daughter. My family and I live in Hooper, about an hour away. This is a doable distance if we want to get together for birthdays, holidays or backyard bbqs. But as our dad’s health declined, the distance made it difficult to be here as often as we would have liked. Thankfully Ruth was close and able to help and we are grateful to her. We want to give a heartfelt thank you to the members of their ward who have rallied around my dad and Suzanne. You were there to support them physically, emotionally, and spiritually and we are so grateful to you!
We also want to thank Suzanne for the love and support she gave our dad for the last 16 years, and especially as his health declined in the recent past. She sacrificed a lot to care for him and we want her to know we are grateful for her!
You’ve already heard a lot about our dad. I’ll just share a few stories that highlight some of the lessons he taught by his quiet example.
Anyone who knew my dad knew he was a quiet man. He was also incredibly smart. His idea of a good time was watching the CNN stock ticker channel. I think all of us wondered how that could possibly be entertaining, but he genuinely enjoyed it. He loved numbers and math. I remember asking him what I thought were super hard multiplication questions as a kid, and he’d rattle off the answers right away. You might think he just made up the answers but I often had a calculator in hand to check his answers!
Education was really important to him. As the son of two Italian immigrants who came to this country with very little, he valued learning deeply. He was proud to be college educated and made sure we understood how important school was too. He was always helping us with homework—no matter the time—and showing up for every band concert, choir performance, and school play. Whatever we were doing, he was there, cheering us on.
And he didn’t just tell us to keep learning—he lived it. When he lived in New Jersey, he learned French. When he moved to Utah, he took up Spanish. In fact, just last month he asked me where his Spanish book was and if he had missed Spanish class. It was fun hearing him test out new words and phrases. He also joined Toastmasters in NJ to improve his public speaking and practiced his speeches on us. He truly believed in lifelong learning—and he passed that passion on to us, which I’ll always be grateful for.
My dad also really cared about his health. When I was young, he bought a lifetime gym membership and was one of those guys that actually used it! He’d go to the gym most every night. I used to tease him about some of his health habits... until I realized he was right. Now I do many of the same things he did to stay healthy!
Our dad had such a generous heart. When I was in high school, it seemed like we had a revolving door at our house. The adult children of family friends would come stay with us one at a time, and my dad never asked for anything in return. He just welcomed them in.
And he was generous with birthdays too. He had this tradition of taking the whole family out to Chuck-a-Rama to celebrate each birthday. He was always the fastest eater—he usually had two or three plates polished off before anyone else was even halfway through their first. But that gave him time to sneak away and ask the waitress for a birthday serenade while we were distracted. We always knew it was coming, but it still made us smile every time.
For much of my early childhood, my dad worked in another state or country. We’d take him to the airport early Monday morning and pick him up Friday night. But no matter where he was, he’d call us every single evening—without fail. You could practically set your watch by his 5 p.m. phone call. He taught us that we were a priority to him!
Some of my favorite memories are riding bikes with my dad to the tennis court to play tennis and working together in the yard. It’s probably because of him that I have loved gardening and yard work so much—though I’m sure my kids wish I hadn’t inherited that particular hobby and I’m not sure I have passed down that love of yardwork to them!
My dad loved children—especially his grandkids. Even though all of us girls moved to Utah for college and stayed here to raise our families, he and my mom didn’t hesitate to pack up and move across the country after he retired. He once told a friend that he thought grandkids should know their grandparents, so they moved across the country to be closer to them.
My kids have their own special memories of their grandpa. Like the time he surprised everyone by dressing up as Darth Vader for the twins’ Halloween birthday party—we had never seen him dress up before. We know this was Suzanne’s fun influence on him and we could tell he loved every minute of it-- he was all smiles that day. They also remember stockings full of candy from our dad and Suzanne, swimming in the pool at grandpa’s and that there was always a full candy bowl at their house that he let them sneak treats from.
Though my dad joined the Church later in life, he still took our family to church every Sunday as we were growing up. He wasn’t able to baptize us when we were 8, but when my twins turned eight, our daughter Sydney asked him to baptize her. That was a special moment for both of them.
I’m so thankful for the man I got to call Dad and for the lessons he taught. We’ll miss him at Chuck-a-Rama, racing us through the buffet. We’ll miss his quiet jokes and the way his face lit up when the grandkids walked into the room.
But more than anything, I am grateful for the knowledge that families can be together forever and that we will meet again. I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.
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