Martin Lynn Whittington aka Marty

Martin Lynn Whittington aka Marty

Father, Brother, Grandpa and basically a 70’s wild child. Departed us in Draper, Utah, May 22, 2025. Born May 24, 1960 in Salt Lake City. Parents, Ada Marie Whittington and Maynard Lynn Whittington.

Formerly married to June Whitington.

Survived by siblings, Daniel Whittington, Sarita Whittington, Jeremy James Whittington. Preceded by daughter Crysta Whittington and survived by daughters Andrea Whittington Barrett and Melissa Ann Jakeman. Grandchildren, Shaydee Whittington, Alexa Barrett, Kymbrielle Lindsay, Damon Lindsay, Austin Jakeman, Lalea Walker, Kaleo Walker, Great grandchildren Jervonte KeSean Dickson and a baby girl, name unknown.

A private family gathering as was held in his honor. Many stories and memories were shared. A tribute book was passed around and the following thoughts were written down in his honor.

A Tribute from Marty’s family.

“Marty, the things I will always remember about you most, is you love of all things, water skiing, surfing, (and) ponds. Thank you for taking us with you every once in a while, to enjoy the water with you. -Angie-“ (Sister-in-law)

“Even though you were a pain, I will always remember the boat rides and the time you made a stick into a horse for me. -Ellie” (Granddaughter)

Thanks for always making sure I always checked my oil. -Shaydee” (Grand Daughter)

“Marty was my friend since I was 12 yrs. old (in) ’79. He gave me my first beer haha. He often told me that his girls and later his grandchildren were a Godsend to him and his family is what he cherished most.  Kevin Wolf” (Brother-in-law)

“You were my first male figure. We always got into trouble and you my life. So amazing. I am always able to call you and just talk. I loved him (you) and I’m going to miss you dearly. He gave me two daughters and my best friend. I love you Marty. Until we meet again. Edward-“ (Son-in-law)

“Marty will be surely missed. He had the funniest laugh.
See you sometime. Shelli” (Sister-in-law)

“Uncle Marty,
Tank you for always having us over to swim when we were kids in the summer time. I will also always remember going to the lake in your boat & learning to wakeboard. Until we meet again. -Love Bryson-” (Nephew)

“Uncle Marty,
You are the best uncle ever. I remember when you were backing the boat into the driveway and June was yelling stop, stop, stop, stop and I was laughing. Don’t know if you remember me but I remember you. Aspen.” (Niece)

“Grandpa Marty
I love that your always called me precious and I always liked that and I remember when you said “Coke and a smile.” I still do that till today. Love you Grandpa. Alexa” (Granddaughter)

“Marty, You were a good man. Have a great time in spirit! Steve Schmidt.” (Nephew)

“Thank you for so many memories growing up and teaching me everything I know today. You were an amazing Dad. Andrea.” (Daughter)

“My brother will be sorely missed, always there with his jokes good and bad, I will miss you.” Jeremy James Whittington (Brother)

“I’ll always(s) remember the goofiness of uncle Marty growing up and the careless way of seeing reality. Landon” (Nephew)

My favorite memory of Marty is from when we went to Denver for the Broncos vs. Patriots game. We all went to Hard Rock Café for breakfast. His sausage wasn’t cook(ed) well done and He told all of us not to eat our sausage because it wasn’t cook(ed) all the way and we were going to get worms in our booty. Taylor Wolf” (Niece)

“Marty; They say opposites attract and boy did we LOL :). We had many good times and hard times, which comes with all relationships. Thanks for always providing us a very comfortable life, nice home, boating, camping, skiing and family get togethers. Although we went our separate ways, are hearts will forever be together. Our children and grandchildren, will forever be our, connection. Love June.” (Wife of 41 years)

To my little brother, “Marty Farty;” I could always count on you to jump in on any of my bad ideas or come up with your own and we’d run with it! We had a lot of fun over the years. From GI Joe’s, playing trucks, Hot Wheels, Match Box Cars, chasing after girls and generally getting into trouble.

I have tons of fond memories. I’d like to share a small snippet of them.

One of our favorite pass times was hiding in the back yard at our neighbor’s house and throwing goldenberries at unsuspecting passerby’s. I remember it being a lot of fun. If we could get them to chase us, that was a bonus! However, I remember one fellow in particular, driving an orange Corvette. We pelted his car pretty good and he came to a screeching halt. He somehow found us. He didn’t think it funny at all. He was mad as hell and gave us one hell of an ass chewing!

The “field” (an area, which is now I-215 and about 20th east) by our house is where we spent many, many hours riding bikes, building jumps and exploring life. One of my favorite wild ideas. is when we grabbed some shovels and created a huge opening in the ditch that ran along the north of the field. By the next day it had created a huge lake. We spent a few days building rafts and floating out on the lake. It was absolutely awesome! People still talk about this today. Then much to our surprise, someone fixed the ditch. Seriously, who would not want a neighborhood lake there? So as not to be dissuaded, we soon did it again. Apparently, as we found out, the farmers were using it to irrigate their crops and didn’t like our lake. They finally installed a cement ditch stopping any of our future attempts.

I remember another day, vividly, when you brought home a Green, shackled up ‘69 GTO, aka as a “GOAT.” One of the fastest production cars made in the day. It Had a 3/4 cammed, 400 cui, race engine and you asked me to detune it, so dad would not object to you buying it. It was still crazy fast and didn’t help tame it at all. It would do 80 MPH in first gear! I don’t think we ever lost a race. Picking you up from jail at 3:30 in the morning, because you were running form the cops on State Street, was classic Marty.

Over the years, we learned to hunt, fish and work on cars. How to fire shot guns without hurting our shoulders. Eat rabbit, Skin a deer, off-roading, how to drive and a little about life.

Our Grandma Whittington had a farm, in Nephi. She had a horse, that wouldn’t take a bit. That horse was very smart and cunning and didn’t like to be rode. Dad taught us to plug his nose, so when he gasped for air through his mouth, you could shove the bit in. You’d better have the halter ready to put over his ears or you’ll have to start over, again. I guess he figured if you couldn’t put the bit in, you couldn’t ride him. I remember while you were riding him one afternoon. He ran you straight at the barbed wire fence. He stopped, suddenly just before reaching it, ducking his head and dumping you off, head over tea kettle into the fence.

Moab was a lot of fun. Hanging with Chuck and Charlie was often outrageous and often outta control.

One hot sweaty afternoon the three of us, were on their horse riding bareback, down an old canal road. Chuck in the front, you sandwiched in the middle and myself in the back. Chuck kept shouting “Go, Go, Go!” He thought it would be funny to make the horse run at full gallop! The idea was to have us bounce outta control and fall off the back and leaving you and I to walk home. Each time he said the words “Go, Go, Go,” that horse would run even faster. After Chuck’s first couple attempts, I devised myself a strategy hoping it would stop chuck from running the horse. I held on to Chuck’s belt loops for dear life. However, it was wish-full thinking that this would help us stay on. Eventually it became too difficult to hold on with my legs and as I bounced over and off the horse’s hips, the ride came to its inevitable end. Gravity and bouncing had taken over. Since I was on the back, I was the first to take flight and as I fell off. I held on tight to Chuck’s belt loops and dragged all three of us to the ground. We had a long walk back, picking dirt, gravel and grass outta of our hair and skin. Holding Chuck’s torn off belt loops in my hands was hilarious. I still remember it, like it was yesterday.

Another time, while visiting in Moab, Chuck and Charlie decided to take us down one of their Uranium mines. Stopping somewhere in the depths of hell and turning off the lights, making it pitch black. I remember we couldn’t see our hands in front of our face. Of course, they were doing their best to try and scare us. We held our ground never showing any fear. It seemed it was always a competition to see who was tougher. The city or the country boys!

Our sister Sarita must be a saint. We pretty much teased her all the time. In particular, I remember a road trip the family was on. Dad had a ‘68 Ford T-Bird with beautiful black leather seats, Quadraphonic 8 track stereo and rear suicide doors. One of the coolest cars I can remember from the 60’s. I don’t remember where we were going. But I do remember you and I had an unspoken plan to make her pee her pants. And so, it began. We made her laugh her ass off! However, when she stopped laughing and became deathly quiet, we knew we had succeeded! Seemed like a good idea at the time. Not so much as we soon found out. She had peed her pants in the back seat of that beautiful T-bird and an extremely pissed off dad gave us an ass chewing, which I will never forget.

Making so many memories. So little time. Some ideas were good and others not so good. Looking back, it’s amazing we made it to adult hood.

Solem days were also a part of our journey together. Like the time when Dad was in that horrific motorcycle accident at Strawberry Reservoir and ended up in intensive care hanging on for dear life. He was a changed man after that.

Soon after the accident, our littlest brother was born. He was 16 years younger than myself and 3.5 months premature. In those days, they didn’t have the current technology or understanding of how to treat preemie babies like they do now. Jeremy somehow survived. I remember olding him in my hand. Legs hanging off my fingers and his head on my wrist. You somehow managed to talked mom and dad into naming him Jeremy James. Thus wanting to call him “JJ.” An intended football nickname that never really stuck. I will never forget that.

Growing into adults, we had some pretty rough times, as well. To many times, family issues clouded our journey and separated our family. They always seem to happen when we needed each other most.

Over the years I enjoyed your family and watching them grow from toddlers to adults. We had fun boating, camping and roasting sausages by the fire.

Your grandkids were your world and when Crysta died, it took a part of you away that no parent should ever feel.

Life is way too short and I could go on for hours. What I wouldn’t give for one more day. Just one more afternoon getting into trouble. Playing golf and trying to out drive each other. Boating, jumping the waves. Sitting by the fire and roasting wieners. We were always competitive and always having fun.

You were my best friend. My partner in crime. I miss you. Thanks for being my brother.

Love and miss you forever; “Danny Fanny” aka, “Dan, Dan the Chicken Man.”