Robert Burnell Morgan

Robert Burnell Morgan ~ beloved husband, father, grandfather, great-grandfather, brother, and friend was born on June 16, 1938, in Salt Lake City, Utah, and passed away peacefully on April 27, 2025, surrounded by his loving family and devoted wife, Sharleen. Fittingly, it was their 24th wedding anniversary… a day already written in love, now forever etched in memory. He passed on the very day they once said “I do,” as if the universe was gently reminding us that love never ends. He left this world hand in hand with the woman who was his whole heart.

He was the son of Conrad and Ann Morgan and graduated from Granite High School in 1957. That same year, he married Iva Jo Anne Chambers, they later divorced.

Bob served in the Army National Guard and was stationed at Fort Hood, Texas. He received an honorable discharge in the early 1960s. His service was a reflection of his strength, loyalty, and unwavering commitment to doing what mattered most.

On April 27, 2001, he married his forever sweetheart, Sharleen Schwinn Coon…the woman who brought light and happiness to his later years and stood by him until his final breath.

From his earliest days, Bob was a doer…hands in the dirt, mind always working. He picked night crawlers and sold them for 25 cents a dozen, learning early the value of grit and hustle. That same tenacity carried into his long and admirable career. He was a proud member of the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers (IBEW), where he spent many years mastering the world of electricity. Later, he brought that expertise to the Jordan School District as the Facilities and Maintenance Superintendent. For over a decade, he specialized in life safety systems… fire alarms, emergency lighting, and more. If it sparked, wired, or blinked, Bob knew how to handle it.

But Bob wasn’t just a Master Electrician…he was an inventor, a builder, a fixer, and a creative force. In the 1970s, he designed an automated bathtub system (before Alexa and smart homes were a thing), complete with electronic controls that let you set your preferred temperature and walk away. That was Bob: ahead of his time, and always creating and tinkering with something that most people wouldn’t even think of.

He was also a Ham Radio Operator… known on the airwaves as “W.S. Sugar Baby” and a favorite among both peers and curious neighborhood kids who looked up to his technical skills. He even installed antennas on LDS church buildings so that communication could continue during emergencies. He wasn’t just part of a community…he built it, one connection at a time.

If something was broken, Bob could fix it. If something was missing, he could build it from scratch. He fully restored a 1958 Ford Thunderbird… rebuilt the engine, reupholstered the seats, and painted it a brilliant cherry red, all by hand. It was a labor of love and a source of pride, and rightfully so. When his son took on the restoration of a 1967 Mustang, Bob didn’t just step in… he guided him patiently, teaching each step with care. From engine work to transmission removal, he passed down not just knowledge, but confidence. He was the mechanical heartbeat of the family…steady, skilled, and always there when something needed fixing. And when he wired a 1948 Ford to give a mild electric zap to anyone who dared touch it, it was just Bob being Bob: a little mischievous, always clever, and impossible not to love.

If you moved into his neighborhood, you probably learned pretty quick: Bob was that guy. The one who could fix your garage door, build you a bookshelf, repair your furnace, and… yes… even glue, bend, or perhaps most impressively… perform emergency surgery on a broken Barbie car his little girl would present like a tragedy, tears in her eyes and total faith in his skills …as if he were a certified Barbie mechanic with a license to repair tiny plastic fenders. And he always found a way…no eye-rolls, no shortcuts, just love and a know-how to mend his little girl's heart.

If you ever needed a little sugar rush, Bob was your guy. He seemed to have a hidden, endless supply of candy tucked away…in pockets, drawers, glove boxes…like a one-man candy store on wheels.

And speaking of lights… you knew Bob was filming a family gathering when the blinding beam from his camera lit up the entire room. Every birthday, graduation, and Christmas morning lives on in grainy home videos because Bob made sure of it. It didn’t matter if your retinas burned a little…he was capturing memories, and he never missed a moment.

He once transformed an old chicken coop that was on his parents property into a fully decked-out recording studio, where he and his good friend George Best recorded tracks for a local country artist. A self-taught guitarist, Bob especially loved playing the steel guitar… and if it was 7:00 p.m., chances are the loudspeaker was on and the music was already pouring through the house. He had a deep love for classic country…the kind with heart, grit, and soul..and his favorite songs didn’t just play… they echoed through the walls like old friends, and everyone knew: Bob was playing.

Bob was a man of many hobbies…not just doing things, but mastering them. He built and flew remote control airplanes, participated in competitions, and even earned awards for his craftsmanship and flying technique…though he never boasted about it. He built his first boat in his late twenties and proudly caught and mounted a blue dolphin on a deep-sea fishing trip. He was a skilled pheasant hunter and made his own ammunition from scratch… just another example of his “figure it out” mindset.

He helped build homes along the Wasatch Front with Darwin Smith through their company, “Kings Way Construction.” He could do it all…pour the cement, lay the brick, wire the house, and install light-up garage indicators that made you feel like you were living in the future. His imagination had no limits, and he loved turquoise so much he even painted one of his houses that color.

In the early 1980s, he and his dad tried their luck at striking it rich by building a massive conveyor belt system to dredge for gold in the Utah mountains. It didn’t bring fortune, but it brought memories…and that meant more. Whether digging for gold or crafting turquoise and silver lapidary jewelry, Bob poured love into everything he touched.

He was a lifelong member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and his love for the Savior and his faith ran deeply. He didn’t preach…he lived it. In the ways he served, loved, forgave, and stayed humble, Bob was a walking testament to devotion and grace. His membership was more than attendance… it was embedded in the way he showed up for others, especially his family.

There truly wasn’t anything Bob couldn’t do… and there was no limit to the love he gave. His legacy is not just in the inventions, the engines, or the home videos. It lives in the children he raised with steady hands and a steadfast heart, in every grandchild who adored him, in every friend and neighbor who relied on him, and in the unshakable devotion of a wife who was his true home and greatest treasure. He was steady, brilliant, funny, faithful, and deeply, deeply loved.

We already miss the sparkle in his kind blue eyes…the ones that always held a quiet joke, a steady confidence, and a tenderness reserved for those he loved most. We miss the laughter he tucked into every day, the jokes he slipped in under his breath, and the way he made us feel safe… like there was always someone who could figure it out, no matter what.

The hardest part isn’t just living without him… it’s learning how to move forward when the person who always knew what to do isn’t here to call. But we know he’s not gone. He’s just gone ahead. And now, from the other side, he’ll keep doing what he always did… watching over us, guiding us, helping us through the things we don’t yet understand.

We will learn to feel him in new ways…in the quiet moments, in the sudden sparks of courage, in the soft nudges we cannot explain.

And one day… on a day we dream of… with full hearts; we’ll see him again.

Until then, we’ll live in a way that honors him… with gentle hands, open hearts, and a quiet strength he taught us by example.

He is survived by his cherished wife and true companion, Sharleen, and his loving sister, Sharon Morgan Clarke. He leaves behind a large and loving family: his children Melissa (Steve) Anderson, Cory Robert (Kelli) Morgan, Amanda (Brandon) Murray, Shawna (Ron) Lavato, Steve (LaNell) Coon, Connie (Don) Carr, and David (Kim) Coon. Bob is also survived by 37 grandchildren, 39 great-grandchildren, and one great-great-grandchild…and many nieces and nephews… each of whom carry a piece of his heart.

Preceded in Death by his loving parents, his brother, Connie and his daughters Tabitha Morgan Neeley and Cynthia Yazzie.

A special thanks to the staff at Mountain Point Holy Cross Hospital and to the incredible nursing team and surgeon Dr. Darrin Hansen, who cared for our husband, father, and hero with such tenderness and grace in his final days. Your compassion did not go unnoticed, and our gratitude is endless.