A Tribute to Bryce G. Quinton

My Dad. My Friend. My Hero!

By David B. Quinton

Bryce Quinton

My father, Bryce Quinton, was a pioneer and prominent member of Lake Havasu City, Arizona for many years, working for and retiring from McCulloch Corporation, which was eventually sold to Black & Decker. He was loved and greatly respected among the community.

Originally from Canada, he immigrated to the United States as a child with his family and later obtained his citizenship. He grew up with his family in Spokane Washington.

He went on to attend college at Brigham Young University in Utah, where he met my mother May. They were married and moved to Mesa, Arizona.

He was a master electrician working as a superintendent for Crescent Electric in Mesa when they sent him to organize and supervise the electrical wiring and electrical system installations for the construction of the McCulloch chainsaw factory in Lake Havasu City. During this time he helped form and was a member of the Lake Havasu City Contractors Association for the preservation of quality building construction in Lake Havasu. They helped in setting up building codes and helped regulate and assist in inspecting construction work.

When the factory construction was completed, he saw the potential for business in Lake Havasu and decided to move there. The McCulloch Corporation's executives were impressed by his work during the construction of the chainsaw factory and offered him a position as superintendent overseeing electrical systems and maintenance at the factory. Although he initially declined their offers multiple times, they continued to enhance their proposal with additional benefits. Eventually, they presented him with an offer he couldn’t refuse, leading him to accept the position and stay with McCulloch Corporation until his retirement.

After Dad's retirement, when my sisters Connie and Sandy and I were grown and on our own, my parents relocated to Tempe, Arizona. After several years, they eventually moved to and settled in Surprise, Arizona, next door to my niece and nephew April & Jay, who loved them dearly and took care of them until their passing. Both Mom & Dad were deeply loved and respected by all who knew them. Mom was born May 1, 1931 and passed away at 82 years of age on March 23, 2014. Dad was born October 24, 1934 and passed away at 91 years of age on March 1, 2025.

The two attributes I loved most about Dad were his genuine love for others and his desire to make people happy. He was happiest when he was helping someone. 

I recall how he was always the first to lend a helping hand to anyone in the community who was in need. His most significant contribution came when he served as Bishop of the LDS church in Lake Havasu, dedicating much of his time outside of work to helping church and community members with their spiritual as well as their secular needs. He served as Bishop for eight years.

Once the LDS church congregation grew large enough, there was a decision made to build a chapel. Dad proposed, since many church members were skilled construction workers, that it would be a good idea for the members to pool together and build the chapel. The church purchased some land and paid a local general contractor for the use of their license. Dad took charge of obtaining the necessary building permits and oversaw the construction, fostering excitement among the members and strengthening their bonds as a congregation.

I remember a later time during Dad's tenure as Bishop, when a larger LDS chapel was constructed to serve as a chapel and LDS church regional center. Around that time, another community church suffered a fire that destroyed a significant part of their chapel, leaving them without a place to gather. In response, Dad generously offered our smaller chapel for their services while they worked on rebuilding their chapel.

Dad had a knack for making people laugh, often delighting in practical jokes and harmless pranks. A good example was during one memorable Christmas. My older sister Connie was always determined to discover what was in her presents under the Christmas tree by picking them up, shaking them, and flipping them over. This year, Dad had rigged up a special gift for her - inside the box were bells that jingled when shaken, and a battery connected to a loud horn with a mercury switch that blared when turned upside down. Naturally, her curiosity got the best of her, and when the horn blared it startled her so much that she promised to stop her gift-snooping forever.

Another Christmas, I recall my younger sister Sandy eagerly waiting for a stylish pair of boots she hoped to find under the tree. She was convinced that a certain present was the one she wished for. On Christmas Eve, while we slept, Dad had slyly swapped her boots with a pair of his old work boots and rewrapped the gift. The look on her face when she tore open the wrapping on Christmas morning was priceless!

​One memorable occasion of Dad spreading joy was on a Halloween night. He convinced us to transform part of our home into a spook house. We draped black plastic at the entrance leading to the dining room. Each of us donned scary costumes in various spooky roles, starting from the spooky entrance greeting, through the haunted hall and into the witches den where Mom was dressed as a witch, stirring a cauldron filled with dry ice that looked like something brewing. She cackled while trick-or-treaters had to pass by her to collect their candy.

The event was a huge success, drawing families from all around, creating a long line down our driveway, with many returning to enjoy the experience again and again.

As a teenager growing up in Lake Havasu, I remember coming home from school and having to follow Dad's strict rules: Homework first, then chores, before enjoying any playtime. I HATED this! I considered it child abuse! While all my friends were out having fun, I couldn't join them until I completed all my homework and chores. However, as I matured, I grew to appreciate his wisdom and insight, recognizing the value of hard work and responsibility that have stayed with me throughout my life.

Dad often took us on family trips filled with adventures to reunions and wonderful destinations. One of our favorite places was the magnificent Redwood Forest, where we drove through a tunnel carved into the trunk of a living redwood tree.

Dad enjoyed taking me hunting and fishing. I learned a lot from him about deer and elk hunting, duck hunting, quail hunting, pheasant hunting and bass fishing. I vividly recall one duck hunting trip near the lake when we shot a few ducks that landed in the center of a small cove on a still winter day. There was no wind so they didn't move toward the shore where we could reach them.

The water was freezing cold, but Dad bravely stripped down and dove in to fetch them. My HERO!

There's no end to the stories I could tell about Dad's unwavering love for people, his commitment to helping others, and his desire to make people happy. He was the epitome of a great man, an exceptional father and a pillar of the community wherever he lived.

Story by David Quinton

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