Jerry Harris resume
Academic and professional life
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In Loving Memory
March 15, 1946 — October 21, 2022
"He doesn't have hobbies because his hobbies are all of us." — Brian Harris, eulogy, November 7, 2022
Character
Those who knew Jerry longest reach for the same words: earnest, joyful, patient, present. He was a man whose interest was genuinely, relentlessly, in other people.
He sang in the car, hummed doing dishes, and found something funny in almost everything. His default was "Zippity Do Dah" — even on hard days.
Gentle, dry wit. He loved wordplay, absurdist stories, and a well-timed groan-worthy pun. Cousin Dave wrote an entire document about their childhood mischief.
"His interest was us." He set aside what he was doing to actually listen — a skill he taught as a therapist and simply lived as a father.
Faith was not a Sunday practice but the frame of his entire life — mission in England, decades of LDS Family Services, Hawaii mission with Sue at 67.
He asked questions and waited for the answer. He remembered details. He made people feel genuinely heard — and spent 36 years doing it professionally.
To Sue — his "Suzi-Q" — above all. Also to Holly, Brian, seven grandchildren, and the broader Harris family whose history he quietly kept alive.
His Story
1946 – 1964 · Independence, Missouri
Jerry Stephen Harris was born March 15, 1946 in Independence, Missouri — the same city Joseph Smith designated as Zion. He grew up with frequent moves in early childhood before his family settled when he started fifth grade, and he attended William Chrisman High School, class of 1964 ("Go Bears!").
He was a quiet, thoughtful kid — shy at first, with a stutter he overcame through sheer determination. He played basketball, earned Eagle Scout in 1963, and served on Student Council his junior year. His parents, Gerald C. and Juanita Harris, ran a dry cleaning business; his brother Mark was his closest childhood companion and co-conspirator.
1964 – 1972 · England, BYU, Army
After a year at BYU — "kind of lonely," he wrote in his journal — Jerry felt a call to serve a mission. He left in June 1965 for the Southwest British Mission in Bristol, England. Two years later he returned transformed: confident, purposeful, and genuinely devoted.
He finished his psychology degree at BYU in May 1970 and was drafted into the Army that July. He served at Fort Leonard Wood, Fort Ord, Fort Benning, and Fort Riley — where he became second counselor in the Junction City Branch presidency. He was released in January 1972 with the quiet assurance of a man who had faced things and come through them whole.
1968 – 1969 · Provo, Utah
Jerry met Sue Martin on a tennis court in Provo in the spring of 1968. He was smitten immediately. They became engaged in March 1969, and on June 4, 1969, they were married and sealed in the Los Angeles Temple — the beginning of 53 years together.
Sue was the center of his world. He called her "Suzi-Q" and rarely went a day without demonstrating it in small ways: the way he looked at her across a room, the way he made her laugh, the way he deferred to her in every gathering and beamed when she spoke.
1972 – 1996 · California
Jerry and Sue adopted Holly and Brian, building the family that became the center of their lives. They settled in West Covina, then Sacramento — where Jerry spent 18 years as a clinical therapist and supervisor with LDS Family Services, earning his EdD from University of the Pacific in 1987.
But home was the point. Annual campouts at New Brighton Beach. Trampoline sessions with the Beach Boys playing loud. Root beer at Sunday dinner. Baseball games and fishing trips. He showed up for everything, and he made everything count.
2013 – 2015 · BYU–Hawaii
In their late sixties, Jerry and Sue answered another call — 23 months at BYU–Hawaii as Director of Mental Health Services. Jerry counseled students, supervised therapists, and carried his gentle presence into a new generation of young people far from home.
Hawaii stories are part of family legend now: the students he helped, the adventures with Sue on the island, the time they were airlifted off a mountain — and "survived to laugh about it."
2016 – 2022 · Fair Oaks, California
Jerry and Sue returned from Hawaii and made their home on Terrace Oak Circle in Fair Oaks. Grandchildren were the great joy of these years — seven of them, each one loved with particular attention. He remembered their birthdays, their interests, their stories. He knew each one.
He traveled with Sue to England, took cruises, attended every family gathering. He collected coins and chocolate milk and pickle-peanut butter sandwiches ("larapin' good," he'd say). He was gentle and dapper and fully alive right up until he died at home on October 21, 2022, in Sue's arms.
"If Jerry had been put on trial and accused of adhering to Christian principles, the prosecution would have had a very difficult time finding enough evidence to convict him — because he never wore it on his sleeve. He just lived it." — Cousin David Harris, eulogy, November 7, 2022
Timeline
Stories
Cousin David Harris wrote these stories in November 2022, while Jerry was still alive — a gift of memory from one life to another.
Jerry and Dave invented their own language as kids — a private dialect that let them communicate in plain sight of adults who had no idea. "Wong fliggo" was one of the key phrases. Whether it meant something specific or just meant us is lost to history, which is exactly right.
Jerry climbed an apple tree and couldn't get down. Dave had to orchestrate the rescue — a multi-step operation that required more creativity than actual apple-tree expertise. They both survived. The tree was never the same. Dave told this story at the funeral and the room laughed.
The boys constructed an elaborate bicycle stunt show in the backyard and formally invited the neighborhood. Whether the show delivered on its promise is disputed. The important thing is that they promoted it with complete confidence and charged a small admission.
Jerry, as a student of psychology, designed and executed a social experiment involving pie. Details are appropriately vague. The conclusion he drew was that people will eat pie under almost any conditions, which he found both validating and slightly alarming.
Dave told this story at the funeral as "the diamond box incident." Jerry, on a dare or a scheme (the accounts differ), diverted from an agreed plan at exactly the right moment — and because of his betrayal, something went much better than it would have otherwise. Dave called it the most instructive thing Jerry ever taught him: sometimes the friend who changes the plan is the one who sees further ahead.
In His Own Words
Jerry kept a journal for much of his adult life. These are five passages — selected because they give you the texture of how he thought and felt and saw his own life.
Childhood — Independence, Missouri
"We moved around a lot when I was little. I don't think I minded — every new neighborhood had new kids and new trees to climb. But I was glad when we finally stayed put. I liked knowing the names of the streets."
Spring 1965 — Mission Decision
"I had been going back and forth about whether to go on a mission. I wasn't sure I was the right kind of person for it. Then one afternoon something just settled — it felt less like a decision and more like a recognition. I knew I was going."
Spring 1968 — Meeting Sue
"I saw her on the tennis court and I thought: I want to talk to that person. That's all it was at first. I wanted to talk to her. Talking led to walking, walking led to everything else."
1971 — Fort Riley, Kansas
"Being in the branch presidency here has been one of the unexpected gifts of the Army. These are good people — far from home, doing hard things. I try to remember that when I'm sitting across from someone who needs to talk. Everyone is far from home sometimes."
June 4, 1969 — Wedding Day
"We were sealed this morning in the Los Angeles Temple. I keep thinking about the word 'sealed' — not locked, not closed, but bound. Like a promise that intends to be permanent. That's exactly what it felt like."
Source Library
The full scan saw 20,567 files. This memorial build uses 24 selected source documents and 97 copied photos. The scan also recorded 551 blocked paths and intentionally excluded obvious financial, legal, tax, and medical material.
Academic and professional life
Academic and professional life
Fatherhood and family
Fatherhood and family
Fatherhood and family
Personal voice
Personal voice
Religious service
Religious service
Religious service
Religious service
Family history and later years
Missionary and church service
Missionary and counseling work
Later years and Hawaii
Academic and professional life
Family warmth
Grandfather and faith
Genealogy
Travel and fun
Eulogy and life sketch
Eulogy and life sketch
professional
professional
Tributes
Brian Harris — Son — Funeral, November 7, 2022
The thing about Dad is he doesn't have hobbies because his hobbies are all of us. His interest was us. He would sit down, put whatever he was doing aside, and just — listen. Not wait to talk. Actually listen.
I remember the trampoline in the backyard — Beach Boys on the stereo, all of us bouncing, him right there in the middle of it. I remember the root beer he'd pour with ceremony at Sunday dinner, and the time I knocked the whole thing over and he just — cleaned it up. No drama. No lecture.
He taught me without ever sitting me down to teach me. He taught me by being the kind of person he wanted me to become. He spent his life helping others realize how to become the best versions of themselves, and he started at home.
His relentless optimism. His gentle humor. His absolute refusal to judge. When I grow up — and I'm still working on it — I want to be like that.
Zippity Do Dah, Dad.
David Harris — Cousin — Funeral, November 7, 2022, Fair Oaks CA
Jerry was born March 15, 1946 in Independence — a city that meant something to him his whole life. He overcame a childhood stutter. He became Eagle Scout, served in the Southwest British Mission in Bristol, earned his psychology degree at BYU, served his country in the Army, married the love of his life in the Los Angeles Temple, adopted Holly and Brian, and spent 36 years helping families find their way back to each other.
But here is what I want you to know. When we were boys, he was the funniest person in any room. He had this gift of making things seem possible — not through bluster, but through genuine belief that the world was going to work out. That never left him. Even in his last years, that's still who it was.
He was earnest, sincere, empathetic. He was joyful. He was an exuberant singer. He was a dapper dresser. He was non-judgmental and forgiving in a way that felt almost effortless — as if it cost him nothing, which I'm sure it didn't, but he never let you see the cost.
He died in Sue's arms at home in Fair Oaks on October 21, 2022. The best of us, at his best, right to the end.
Memory Wall
If you knew Jerry — as family, friend, colleague, or someone he helped — we'd love to hear your memory of him.