"Droddy" Looks Good on a Nametag!
No one in my family has ever been a missionary. No one. Okay, I'm fibbing. Well, actually, I'm not. To the best of my knowledge, no one named Droddy has ever been a missionary. Someone named Fredette was, though: my cousin Dan served in Spain and in Kingman, Arizona during 1989-1990. The story of his mission is inspiring: he reactivated himself, paid his own way, was sent home midway through to have surgery and returned to finish his mission. That's pretty awesome, and I do not mean to discount his service just because he's named "Fredette". In fact, my heart bursts with love for him and for his dad, who taught him the gospel but died when Dan was just eleven. I really grew to love Dan when I was able to write to him on his mission and again at BYU, where we enjoyed Sunday nights in Sandy together with our family. And he holds a special place in history for being the first (and so far the only) Fredette missionary...