Matthew Montgomery
I’ve never really thought of myself as a writer. I’ve written a few poems and even a song once, but I’ve never felt like I was very good at putting feelings into words in a way that feels adequate.
But I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.
Ever since I learned of Dennis’s passing, I’ve moved through a flood of emotions, memories, and thoughts. It wasn’t until his funeral today that I truly understood just how much I loved and respected him.
I met Dennis when I auditioned for Liken The Scriptures: One Smooth Stone. He and Aaron Edson ran my audition and offered me the role of Shammah, one of David’s brothers. I loved working with Dennis and Ken. During that time, I met Suzanne on set and fell in love with her and their girls almost immediately. I also grew close to Ken’s daughter, Aria. I loved their families and the production so much that I spent as much time there as I could. I built sets, cleaned, and helped with whatever needed doing.
That was when Dennis and Ken offered me a job at One South Studios. The challenge was that I lived in Ogden and the studio was in Provo. Without hesitation, Dennis and Suzanne offered to let me stay in their basement apartment during the week while we were filming. So I moved in.
I grew to love Dennis and his family deeply. I was welcomed into their lives in a way that was quiet and unassuming, but powerful. They had a way of showing me I mattered without ever making a big show of it. That meant more to me than I can say.
I got a front row seat to watch how their family worked. I watched how Dennis and Suzanne parented their girls with calm, steadiness, and intention. I paid attention. I learned from them. I even called Suzanne later for advice on how they handled things like allowance with their kids. The influence they had on me as a father is real and lasting.
Dennis was steady and solid. He was like a boulder in a river. Everything rushed around him, but he didn’t get swept away. In the chaos that comes with production, he was constant and grounded. He was present. He always had a quick wit, thoughtful advice, and that smile. The one that, if you know, you know.
Over the years, I stayed in touch with the Agles. I’ve always loved getting Suzanne’s Christmas letters and hearing about their lives. Their family, Ken’s included, has remained beloved to me. They welcomed me during a strange season in my life and made me feel normal, valued, and loved simply by being who they are.
So many beautiful and true things were said about Dennis today. I could go on forever, but the one thing that stands out most to me is this.
Dennis was present. Always.
His awareness gave him insight. That insight became humor, wisdom, patience, and unconditional love, especially in moments when many of us might react too quickly or too harshly.
The highest praise I can give Dennis is this. He was and is a great husband and father.
I can think of no greater legacy. His writing and creative work are significant and meaningful, but even those accomplishments pale in comparison to the beauty he leaves behind in Suzanne and his daughters.
My greatest hope is to be the kind of husband and father he was.
