Louis Gail Sponseller

A lot of people like to rest their thumbs on their belt, and some even like to hoist one foot onto any random object at least two feet high. But no one has ever done it quite like Lou Sponseller. From the moment he woke up every morning and tucked a collared shirt into a pair of khaki pants, it was only a matter of time before a raised object met the sole of a tasseled loafer.

But if his mannerisms and daily habits were at all memorable or unique, certainly his deeper characteristics are what we will always remember with fondness and admiration.

His kids and grandkids were no strangers to a private tour of young Lou Sponseller’s former stomping grounds in whichever red sedan he happened to own at the time. All throughout Portland and out to Battleground he loved to show the many places he had been as a young kid and teenager. He was raised by his grandparents and attributes his spiritual foundation to his grandmother. “My grandmother,” he said, “the source of my spirituality. Her love and concern for my physical and spiritual wellbeing was unwavering.”

But as much as his grandmother gave him a spiritual foundation, Lou often spoke of his wife, Maxine, as being the one who gave him a spiritual direction. It was while they were dating that Maxine met the missionaries. Although already a member of the Church since childhood, Lou was not immediately comfortable with it all, and probably felt a bit uneasy when she said, “I believed every word I heard.” But it did not take long for him to reconnect with the church his grandmother had introduced him to. And, as Maxine wrote, “Our family started March 24, 1967, Friday night at about 7 p.m. in Portland, Oregon, (30th and S.E. Harrison) at The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”

That family and that church became the two most important things for each of them. As they moved to different places throughout the country, they raised their children as dedicated parents. Their service in the church mirrored that same form of dedication. Some people have careers and serve in their church on the side. Lou Sponseller served in the church and had a career on the side. It did not matter where he was.

By the time they returned to Portland years later, Maxine was in the early stages of Huntington’s. As the disease progressed, he responded with degrees of patience and positivity not often witnessed. It was not uncommon for him to chase after her saying, “no Max, wrong one,” as she entered the men’s restroom. Many men might find that to be extremely uncomfortable, but Lou did it with a giant grin on his face. Even when the physical labor and mental strain brought him down, he always spoke in praise of his wife and what an angel she had been for him and many others.

Eventually, when she became completely immobile, Lou took on the role of full-time caretaker as he fed, dressed, and cared for her constantly. And every night for five years he would drag a twin-size mattress into the living room where he would fall asleep right next to her.

His favorite author, Elder Neal Maxwell, said: “Perfect love is perfectly patient. Loving patience with a disobedient child, long-term service in the sickness of a loved one who needs to be waited on hand and foot – these are things that will stretch our souls more than so many other forms of service. To write a check, though the financial sacrifice is real, is not quite the same thing as, day in and day out, providing brotherhood for the bedridden. Those of us who see others so ministering are privileged to see a gallantry that is Godlike in the regularity and in its selflessness.”

Elder Joseph Wirthlin said: “At the final day the Savior will not ask about the nature of our callings. He will not inquire about our material possessions or fame. He will ask if we ministered to the sick, gave food and drink to the hungry, visited those in prison, or gave succor to the weak. When we reach out to assist the least of Heavenly Father’s children, we do it unto Him. That is the essence of the gospel of Jesus Christ.”

He did all of those things – every hour of every day - until his own body began to give out. However, as those who were close to him know, watching his wife being put into a nursing home seemed to tear him up more than the work as a caretaker ever had—yet another testament of his great love for her.

Within weeks, Lou Sponseller died fittingly in the very living room of his greatest trial, test, and triumph. He was surrounded by his three children.