Janet Cannon Randall

Mother
Our Mother was an amazing person. Beautiful and brilliant, elegant and vivacious, she graced every room she entered. She could be very funny, but make no mistake, at her core she was a very serious woman. She had an irreverent sense of humor, a very sharp wit, a great curiosity about all things, and she deeply loved her family. She was wonderful, and she will be missed.
Mother was born on August 3, 1922 in the old Logan Hospital. Her parents were Ida Mae Burton and Collins Telle Cannon. She spent her early years and all of her adult life in the city where she was born.
She met the love of her life, Pete Randall, in Logan when she was 16, on a blind date, after hitch hiking to Logan with a friend on the back of a flat bed truck. They were married on March 2, 1946 at the Lion House in Salt Lake City.
She graduated from the University of Utah with a degree in Microbiology, and was first licensed in 1944. She chose to stay home with her growing family until the early 60's when she went back to college at Utah State University, to refresh her knowledge and skills. She was then relicensed and worked at the Logan Regional Hospital lab until she retired in 1985. I well remember going to see her in the lab. She'd meet me there, wearing a lab coat and her perfectly round glasses, surrounded by beakers, Petri dishes and microscopes, and I'd think to myself “My mother is a scientist.” That was really something quite wonderful, then and now.
Mother was a woman ahead of her time. She was a professional in every sense of the word, a new woman of the 80's really, independent and autonomous, but was also anchored in the values of home and family. All through the years she worked, she was always home when we returned from school, and dinner at our house was sacrosanct. She was determined about this. It was an important part of our family day; we were always together for dinner. These dinners were not just about food, but they were about conversations; points and counter points. We discussed the Viet Nam war over burned pork chops, Watergate over luke-warm spaghetti and women's rights over lumpy mashed potatoes. The table was always beautiful, candles were always lit, wine was always served, and it was always interesting, noisy and argumentative. We all waded in about everything. But it was Mother's court, and we were simply in attendance. She was the queen, the judge and the jury, sometimes to our dismay, and occasionally to Dad's.
Mother thrived on being with people. She always had a busy social life, and I grew up thinking that
everyone's parents spent evenings with friends two or three times a week. Her friends were always extremely important to her, and they counted in the hundreds. She loved nothing more than sharing a cup of coffee with anyone who dropped in, getting dressed up to go out with Dad, or having friends in for dinner. She continued to love and enjoy her many friends until the very end, and was a great and trusted friend to have. Much later in life, Dad told me about all the times she cleaned someone's bathroom, too sick to get up, dropped in with flowers for a friend going through a difficult time, or simply listened. She was one of those wise women, and many friends would come by just to talk things over and hear her perspective. She never talked about these gestures, and looking back, I am amazed at her generosity and selflessness.
Mother was always quick to volunteer her many organizational and leadership talents; serving on the Hospice Board in its infancy, performed volunteer work at a home for disabled children and even taught a primary class. She was frequently the Room Mother, helped at all the Halloween Festivals, cooked for the Friday night socials at the club and belonged to a Literary Guild for over 60 years. She served on the Institutional Counsel for Utah State University, but resigned after becoming frustrated by financial decisions that she felt lacked the basic things she believed about managing money; don't spend what you don't have, save for the future, build what you can afford ... old depression era lessons. The hard lessons she and her family learned during those tragic years.
All of my life I watched Mother perform the fine art of being a wife. She was good at it, and I think it
was her favorite occupation. My Dad was always busy. There were so many projects or business
involvements or groups for whom he served in leadership positions. Mother invariably typed his letters, advised him, helped him, supported him, encouraged him, picked him up, pushed him forward, kissed it better and cheered his every success. And whenever Dad had an important golf match, she was always his caddie. She was the wind under his wings and he knew it. He depended on her for her advice and counsel with every important decision in his life. Dad always said, "If it weren't for Janey, I would never have accomplished anything." She was always absolutely in his corner, and if they had differences, and knowing them I can't imagine that they didn't, they were discussed and resolved very privately. I never heard a hard word between them. And there was never any reason to ask Dad something after I had received a firm 'no' from Mother. They were always on the same page.
She and Dad had a great retirement. They had planned carefully for these years, and they spent them as they had planned; traveling, wintering in Florida, playing golf and bridge with friends, skiing at Beaver Mountain, and just being together. In truth, I believe that those times spent together, just the two of them, were the absolute best. They were a great team, their marriage was a real love affair, beginning to end, every day for 68 years, and an inspiration to their family and all who were lucky enough to know them.
Lessons from Mother that I am still trying to learn:
1. Never say or write anything you don't want to read on the front page of the local paper.
2. Always save. Always.
3. Manage your money, or it will manage you.
4. Always have a clean handkerchief in your pocket, and always wear clean underwear.
5. Say where you'll be, and be where you say.
6. Take great care in who you place trust.
7. Always be sure you have cab fare in your purse. (Mother actually called it 'mad money.')
Mother's was a life well-lived; productive, useful and ethical. Her life is an example of what it can mean to be an American woman. When I spend time with her grand-daughters, it is so easy to see and feel her influence and marvelous qualities in them.
It was Mother and Dad's wish to have their ashes spread on the top of Beaver Mountain, just off the ramp at the top of the old Face Lift. It was their favorite place in this world. So we will wait for a perfect winter day, and grant this last wish; a final tribute to these wonderful parents and friends.
Janet Cannon Randall is survived by three of her children; Clarence Cannon Randall, Carolyn Cannon Randall Farrell and Annette Randall Haws. Her eldest daughter, Charlotte Ann Randall, died in infancy.
She loved and treasured her 8 grandchildren and 6 great-grandchildren. They are her legacy, and the world will be a better place for their presence.
Mother and Dad both believed that Sunshine Terrace provided a great service to our community. In lieu of flowers, please send a contribution in Mother’s name to the Sunshine Terrace Foundation.
A luncheon in honor of Janet Cannon Randall will be held at the Logan Golf and Country Club, January 21, 2017 at 11:30 a.m. Please arrive at 11:00 a.m., lunch will be served at 11:30 a.m.
Condolences and memories may be shared with the family online at www.allenmortuaries.net