Christi Nash: A Tribute to My Sister

Today, the world as I knew it stopped, when my sister, Christi Wendigo Sagers Nash, passed from this life into the next. She was only 68, but she packed a lot of living into those years.

Briefly, she had the flu and pneumonia, went into cardiac arrest and lost oxygen to her brain. After a few days at the University Hospital with no brain activity and a ventilator keeping her alive, her organs began failing. It was apparent that the big lifesaving miracle we prayed for wouldn’t happen. Perhaps the real miracle will be if we can somehow manage to get along without her.

Since this is supposed to be a food blog, let me say that Christi was a foodie before there was such a word. Sitting in the waiting room at the hospital this week, we shared memories and joked about her dinner experiments. Her daughter Chelsea remembered an innovative lasagna when she was short on ingredients, and son Chism recalled one of her chicken casseroles that he referred to as Swamp Chicken. By and large, she was a great cook and could improvise a few ingredients to turn them in to something wonderful.

In her lifetime, I think she fed half of Tooele. Living across the street from the high school, her home was a popular lunch hangout for my younger siblings, her own kids and their pals back in the day. Then there were team dinners, when her kids were involved in sports and theater. There was the concession stand when she was involved in the girl’s softball league. There were many, many family cookouts, picnics and holiday dinners. As Relief Society president, she oversaw funeral dinners, and brought lots meals to ward members in need. She made sweet rolls, cookies and treats for her kids, grandkids, friends and coworkers.

“She was Martha Stewart, Julia Child and Galloping Gourmet Cooking rolled into one!” said our cousin, Connie Ahlstrom Littlepage. “She and Luz used to bring me dinner at the hotel when I worked late. It was always good homemade stuff she made up, it was all so good! Whenever I went to her house, she was always making something. She was so crafty too. Making curtains, decorating, making things for the house. I would sit in her living room and wish my house looked this cool. She is just an all-around talented person.”

Attesting to her crafty talents, I have several quilts — including Batman and Power Rangers — that she made my kids when they were little. My daughter took her cute Minnie Mouse quilt with her when she married. They are not just displays of handiwork, but displays of love.

She had a dry sense of humor. When I lived in Saudi Arabia in the 1980s, she sent me a homemade birthday card of magazine photos of celebrities who were supposedly celebrating my birthday. There was a photo of Margaret Thatcher with Ronald Reagan and other dignified-looking officials. Her caption said, “And Maggie’s bringing the boys!” Whenever I see a photo of Margaret Thatcher, I think of that line and laugh out loud.

Our cousin, Teresa Sagers Hansen, says of Christi: “Our family lost my beautiful, bright cousin, Christi Nash, yesterday. She was a cute little ray of sunshine when she was young and she never lost that quality. She really was the life of the party (even when there wasn’t a party). She was the dancer who tried to get everyone on the floor and she kept us laughing with her sense of humor. She was loving, kind, generous and supportive of her family and friends. She loved her family with her whole heart and showed them through her actions.”

Since Christi was three years older than me, she was always present in my life growing up. She was the role model. I think one of my first cooking forays was when Aunt June and Mom went somewhere and left us kids to make dinner. My cousin Shannon and Christi made elegant lettuce wedge salads garnished with mayo, very chic back in the 1960s.  My cousin Deanna and I made hamburgers that turned out to be a pretty rare on the inside and had to be re-cooked. The fact that I still remember this shows that it was a lesson learned. I’m pretty picky about having well-done burgers to this day.

She was confident enough that she could laugh at herself, and didn’t mind sharing stories such as her prom date fiasco. For dinner, they drove all the way from Tooele to the Heidelberg in Farmington, which at the time was one of Utah’s top restaurants. It was a historic grist mill turned into a high-end restaurant — sort of the LaCaille or Log Haven of its day. Just as Christi started to sit down at their table, her date decided to be a gentleman and pull out the chair for her. The chair went out from under her and she landed on the floor! Most people would’ve died of humiliation, and scrambled up to hide themselves in shame. But in a prom dress, it’s pretty tough to scramble. So Christi just sat on the floor and laughed, as everyone laughed with her.  Eventually her date managed to get her up off the floor, but it made for a very memorable night.
During our last phone conversation, the talk turned to a comparison of our childhood with a certain set of sisters who always got the material things they wanted when growing up, yet have never been satisfied, feeling that life wasn’t fair to them and taking offense when none was intended. We concluded that we had a comfortable upbringing, but we did without some of the “in” things, or settled for knock-offs. And we got things mainly for Christmas or birthdays, not any time you thought you wanted something. When Barbie dolls first came out, I got the iconic one with a black ponytail and Christie’s had a poufy blonde hairdo. That was so cool! But aside from the clothes they came in, we didn’t have the fashion outfits and thus made our own doll clothes with varying success, such as a skirts or dresses made from old tube socks. I would drool over the little brochures showing cute outfits and accessories. But they cost $4-$5, which was a lot of money at the time. So, we did without, and turned out fine!

I remember one Christmas that was pretty exciting because Christi got a Chatty Cathy doll where you pull the string in the back of her neck, and she would talk to you with the same recorded phrases. I got a Kissy doll where you would push her arms together and she would make a puckering motion with her lips. Those were the Cabbage Patch dolls of their day, and we loved them!

Christi always knew the latest dances as soon as they came out, from the twist, to the jerk and mashed potato. Our old home movies had a segment of her doing the twist, and Matt loved to speed up the projector so she was twisting faster than humanly possible. It always got laughs.

Another Christmas — I think I was 4th or 5th grade — we got white go-go boots and Mondrian-style dresses which were so cool. There we were, doing cool dance moves in our ‘mod” clothes. Christi taught us a dance that was all kicking and jumping — your partner kicked left as you kicked right, then you jumped your legs out and your partner kicked through your open legs. You had to be pretty good with your timing, or you would end up getting kicked in the shins. Dancing like that to “Just My Style” by Gary Lewis and the Playboys summed up that era of our lives. We were stylin’!

One of Dad’s best pals back then was Ken Bennett, an Army GI from Chicago stationed at Dugway Proving Grounds where Dad worked. Ken was the first African American that I remember getting to know. On weekends he spent the day at our house, a city slicker becoming expert at riding horses, herding cows, and deer hunting. When he got out of the service, he took a job at the Salt Lake Airport, took flying lessons and took us flying in his plane. He joined an acting group in Salt Lake City, and always gave us tickets. Christi and I — and probably the rest of our family — felt rather cosmopolitan dressing up to go Theater 138 to watch Ken act and sing in performances such as “Finian’s Rainbow.” Being young and hip, Ken knew what was cool and cutting edge. One Christmas he gave me the Beatles’ highly prized “Rubber Soul” album, and Christi got a “Supremes” album. Unfortunately, Christi borrowed my Rubber Soul album to take to a party, and someone took it. For a year or two, every time we got in an argument, I would bring up my missing Rubber Soul album, much to Christi’s annoyance.

Besides dancing, Christi could sing! And hit all the high notes! In high school she went through a Joan Baez phase where she and her friends played guitars and sang folk songs like “This Land is Your Land,” “The Cruel War is Raging,” “Blowin’ in the Wind,” and “House of the Rising Sun.” Gary Russell added extra pizazz with his accordion. They performed in many local programs and became the town’s “Peter, Paul & Mary.” Of course I wanted to follow in her footsteps, so Christi taught me several guitar chords and how to strum them. (My brother Matt, who took a few years of guitar lessons, was a much better musician, but I wasn’t patient enough to learn from him.) My friend Vickie Ahlstrom and I started playing and singing together, and were asked to perform at the Future Homemakers of America’s candle-lighting ceremony and a few other local programs. I wouldn’t say we had tons of talent, but it was a good learning opportunity. And again, it came from following Christi’s lead.

A few times I’ve mentioned Gary Russell. He was artistic, funny, and musically talented — qualities not valued as much in farming towns where guys lift hay bales, herd cows and move sprinkler pipes. He was often teased and bullied. Through their music and dance interests, he and Christi became friends. Christi had lots and lots of boyfriends, but Gary was a platonic friend. Because she was outgoing and popular, most of the guys who made Gary’s life miserable left him alone. I remember tagging along to a few movies with them, such as “Lion in Winter,” as part of their English class. It was pretty risque for my innocent eyes, but Katherine Hepburn and Peter O’Toole were amazing! A few years after college, I traveled to a work conference in San Francisco. I was alone and didn’t know anyone in the city, but I remembered that Gary had moved there. I looked his name up in the phone book and miraculously, called the right Gary Russell. He came to my hotel and took me out sightseeing and to dinner, and gave me advice for avoiding trouble that might befall a newbie in the big city. Yep, Gary was gay, something he never mentioned while growing up in our hometown. He told me that his teen-age years would have been hell if it hadn’t been for Christi’s friendship. I realized that she was wise to buck the tide of popular opinion, and befriend this guy who added so much fun and talent to her life! include, and a bit brave, to include this guy who added so much fun and spice to her life! I was sad to hear a few years later that Gary had died of AIDS.

At the time that Christi was born, my mom, Patricia (Sagers) Dymock, taught at St. John Elementary in Rush Valley. It was a one-room school with grades 1-4. Grandma Doris Sagers lived down the block from the school, and she tended Christi. My cousin, Carol Cluff, was an older, responsible student, and she once told me how Mom would put her in charge of the students for a few minutes, while she ran down to Grandma’s house and nursed Christi, then ran back! I imagine that wouldn’t go over in today’s schools!

Christi was always more daring and confident, and talked me into things. Such as doing a tap dance at the Sagers family reunion with her and my sister Hallie. I was reluctant because I was 7 months pregnant at the time. “We’ll do “Singin’ in the Rain” and wear big rain ponchos to cover you up,” she told me. I managed it, although the audience probably wondered if I would go into labor at any moment. Years later at my daughter’s wedding, she and I jumped up to dance our own improv routine to “My Girl.”

She taught tap and ballet dancing to hundreds of kids over the years. My cousin Bobby Sagers reminded me that when the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter day Saints held it worldwide Dance Festival, she and a friend, Gary Russell, were “called” (i.e. begged) to teach our ward the dances (“Cupid,” “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head,”) and even choreograph one song, “Hitchin’ A Ride.” And whenever I hear the lyrics, “A thumb goes up, a car goes by,” I start doing the “skate” step in my mind!

“There weren’t enough kids from Rush Valley who would participate, so we also had some couples from Dugway ward,” Bobby recalled. “Christi and Gary worked hard to make up that (Hitchin’ a Ride) dance and to teach a bunch of 8^th and 9^th graders the steps to all three songs.  I’m sure we were a bunch of brats to try to teach.  Some of us had no talent for dancing, and some had no rhythm, but she kept teaching us and we were able to perform in Rice Stadium for the festival.  It is one of my favorite memories from that period of my life.  I’m sure Christi had better things to do and that it was a hard job, but she always told jokes and made it fun.”

Another memory Bobby shared was Christi taking Matt, Bobby and me to the high school rodeo. It may have been coercion – “Yes, you can take the car as long as you take your brother and sister with you” and I was just lucky enough to get to go along,” said Bobby. ” I’m sure Christi would have rather just gone with her own friends and not have to worry about all these little kids.  It was nice of her.”

I think Christi’s performing arts talents started a bit earlier in the three-room St. John Elementary, when she had the starring role in one of Mr. Anderson’s operettas. Mr. Anderson, the principal and teacher for 5^th and 6^th grades, could be terrifying. But he also created a student orchestra and directed a great annual operetta. When she was in 6th grade, Christi was the heroine of the operetta about gypsies, and had a lot of singing.  In one scene she skipped through the forest when the evil henchman (Floyd Ahlstrom) jumps out, causing her to scream and throw her basket. It happened that it was a big, heavy wooden basket. Our cousin Bobby Sagers remembers this because he and Jamie Nielson were in first grade, and got to play the role of the evil minions. “When you’re in first grade it’s hard to keep a mask in place, so we were blind much of the time because our masks would go askew and cover our eyes.  One day we were practicing.  Floyd, Jamie and I were huddled down hiding, waiting for Christi to come.  When Floyd jumped out, Christi screamed and threw her basket, hitting me in the head with it. It nearly knocked me out!  There was no blood and I was still conscious, so the rehearsal went on.”

“Popcorn popping on the apricot tree” was a real thing in Christi’s backyard, with her gigantic apricot tree. We would pick bushels together. She turned hers into all kinds of great pies, jams and such. I turned my share into smoothies and fruit leather. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten an apricot without thinking of her tree.

My family had a rough Christmas one year, with my newborn in the hospital and husband was temporarily out of work. She showed up with a big box with all kinds of practical pantry items. I put everything to good use, and I was so grateful for that!

When Christi was a young mom, she watched a TV cooking and craft show with Beverly Nye. I think it was called “A Family Raised on Sunshine.” Christi cooked all of Bev’s signature recipes, like Chicken Magnifico (Hmmm. Maybe that was what Chism called “Swamp Chicken?”) and followed her ideas for family fun and homemaking. Many years later when I worked at the Deseret News, I did a story on Bev, who was now retired. We arranged a day when Christi, Chelsea and I took Bev out to lunch at Kneaders. It was so much fun watching the two of them meet and talk cooking and homemaking tips.

She was also a HUGE Martha Stewart fan. When I became the Deseret News food editor, she gave me a subscription to Martha Stewart Living magazine, so I could keep up on food trends. When I went to a Pillsbury Bake-Off that Martha Stewart was hosting in 2012, I was determined to get her to autograph a cookbook for Christi. I bought a book and took it on the plane with me, but I was told that the media were not allowed to talk to Martha. At the dinner event, I spotted Martha with a woman that I’d chatted with earlier in the elevator. I realized she worked with Martha. When she recognized me and smiled, I cautiously asked her about getting the book signed. She took me over to Martha, and quickly pulled my book and pen out of my purse and she signed it. The whole time I was blathering on about how my sister Christi was her biggest fan, how she watched her show, read her magazine and cooked her recipes. Martha simply handed me back my pen, obviously unimpressed. But it was a fun surprise for Christi when I got home!

According to my daughter, Amy, “Aunt Christi really was the kinder and more joyful version of Martha Stewart. I loved receiving the gifts she gave us because she put a lot of thought and work into them, always making us feel special. She sewed me a stuffed elephant that I still cherish. The warm blankets were so enjoyable to receive for Christmas. I remember immediately snuggling in them on the cold drive home Christmas night. Another time, I stayed over and had one of the most comfortable sleeps ever because she put this big heavy demin qult on me to keep me warm by the fireplace. Oh I was in heaven and felt snuggled and tucked in like I was her own kid!”

When Christi visited Ghirardelli Square, she brought me a home a Christmas present of a 10-pound bar of milk chocolate! What fun that was, cutting off chunks for chocolate chip cookies, hot chocolate or fudge. I wrote a newspaper column figuring out all the things I could make with that huge slab of chocolate.

One summer Christi and my brother Travis watched a Doug Miller Outdoors TV episode on crawdad fishing at Strawberry Reservoir. They wanted to try it, and headed our family to Strawberry, and proceeded to follow all of Doug’s instructions right to the letter. “Now, this is how Doug did it….” Christi would tell us. Not one to let a good story go to waste, I wrote a humorous column in the Standard-Examiner about our crawdad feast. A year later, when I moved to the Deseret News, I got a call from Doug Miller, who had read and remembered my column. He invited our family to participate in his next TV crawdad expedition. What fun for all of us to catch and cook crawdads with Doug, and watch the whole thing on TV.

Also when I was at the Deseret News, Christi and Jerry volunteered with me during the Deseret News Marathon. It made for an early morning, but it was kind of fun handing out water to the passing runners…mostly made us glad we weren’t running. Another year, Christi’s daughter, Chelsea and I did the Des News 10K run…er, walk. We were the last people in, but we finished in grand style.

When my kids were young, they all loved going to Aunt Christi’s house. Besides treats, there were exciting movies, and the big bin of action figures that Chase and Chism had outgrown.

“I’ve been thinking about those times we watched X Files or when she forced me to get up and dance to “The Mask,” my son, Lonn said.

“I remember feeling very loved and always allowed to be a kid and play with Army guys and Star Wars and GI Joes in the trees outside,” said my son Jess. “And watching movies together, and having an adventure every time we would stay with Aunt Christi.”

When her son Chase got married, Christi had my three boys take gifts in suits and sunglasses, a la Blues Brothers.

Easter at Aunt Christi’s was always lots of fun, because she and Uncle Jerry had a huge backyard for hiding Easter eggs. The kids loved filling their baskets to the brim with Easter eggs and candy. She had these cool crafty Easter baskets made out of Clorox bottles that we used until they finally fell apart. Or maybe they’re still hanging around somewhere?

When I worked at McKay-Dee Hospital and was in charge of the hospital’s parade float back in the 1980s, Christi and Jerry brought their kids to ride in the Ogden Pioneer Day parade. Years later, when I had young kids, she had them come and ride on a float in the Tooele Pioneer Day Parade. After, we had a cookout and sat around the campfire telling scary stories. We erupted with laughter when our 5-year-old nephew, Austin, put his empty root beer bottle up to his ear and told Christi, “Hey! I can hear my brain in this! Do you want to hear yours?”

She always enjoyed young kids and got a kick out of the funny things they would say. So often when we talked on the phone, she would tell me something hilarious that one of the grandkids, or the school kids where she worked, had said or done. Already this week, I’ve thought of funny little incidents that I’d want to share with Christi. And then remembered that I can’t.

I’ve thought about the times we met up and went to the temple together. There was our incident when Chism took his endowment at the Salt Lake Temple, which I’ll only refer to as “Lost in the Temple.” The last time we went, her granddaughter Olivia was taking her endowment before her mission. I kept saying that Tooele deserved a temple of its own. I was excited when they named a temple to be built in Tooele Valley. Sadly, we won’t be able to go there together, unless she’s there in spirit. In the week following Christi’s funeral, I attended the Bountiful Temple. While I was sitting in the celestial room, the words came to my mind, “In my Father’s house are many mansions. I go to prepare a place for you.” I realized that once again, Christi had gone on ahead to prepare the way, and sooner or later the rest of us would be following in her footsteps.

In 2012 when my dad was sick, Christi had him stay at her home and took charge of his care. An infection, surgeries, and a month in the ICU left him without being able to swallow. He was fed a nutritional liquid through his stomach, which did little to ease the desire for familiar tastes and textures. We theorized that being at Christi’s, with the aromas of baking bread, grilling beef and hearty soups, would perk up Dad’s taste buds and stimulate his throat muscles. And maybe it did, because a few weeks later, he was able to take tiny bits of watermelon and soup (I was proud that it was my Turkey & Wild Rice Soup!). I think he also perked up just being in Christi’s household, which hummed with activity from her and Jerry, their grown kids, grandkids, friends, etc. Once Dad could hold food down, we indulged his appetite with homemade ice cream, pies, seafood, Dutch oven dinners, mashed potatoes and more. Although his body suddenly gave out several months later, we felt we had accomplished something in helping him enjoy his last few months on earth. I feel that Dad was there to take Christi by the hand when she passed over. And, she’s been able to meet our two sisters who died soon after birth, Laurel Ann and Mellenie Fay.

I’ve heard that Heaven is a wonderful place. But I know this, that if Christi had any choice, she loved her family so much that she would have stayed here with them. But her body simply wouldn’t let her.

Now, all we have are the memories. But you’ll never be far from our hearts!

Please, if you have memories of Christi, I’d love to have you share them in the comments. She had so many friends and family who will miss her dearly, and this can be a place to share those thoughts and feelings, and to read other people’s memories as well.