Stacy Burton

Stacy was born December 11, 1959 in Stockton, California to E. W. LeSourd and Ferol Vivian Kunz where they lived for several years. Her older sister, Sandra, lived with them occasionally while they were in Stockton. When she was in junior high school, her parents retired and left the craziness in California and took Stacy and her brother Kehl to live in Gardnerville, Nevada.

She was always passionate, caring, faithful, intelligent, and a champion for those that were at a disadvantage. Shortly after arriving in Nevada, the missionaries found their home and Stacy immediately embraced the gospel and her faith and love for Jesus never faltered.

She met Kenneth Burton in 1975 when he returned from his mission in Mexico and they were married in 1977. She eagerly welcomed her children, Moroni, Jamin, Taylor, Shasta, and Zachary into this life.

She began struggling with health issues in the mid 1980’s and with constant effort to stay healthy, she raised her children, served three years as a service missionary, visited the Kunz family residence in Switzerland, “Les Miserables” in Alaska in February, the home of her future daughter-in-law in Venezuela, and multiple cross-country trips to visit relatives.

In addition to the 5 children born to her, she was “mother” to several others. She is survived by her husband of 48 years, Ken; her brother Kehl, sister Sandra; her natural born children Moroni (Maria), Jamin (Jenny), Taylor (Jen), Shasta, and Zachary; and Marah (Myles), Marcela (Beto), Manuel (Maribel), and Geo (Ramon); and 37 grandchildren and 3 great grandchildren. Family was her entire focus and she dedicated all of her energy to making each one feel uniquely loved. Her family reunions were fun, creative, and rowdy and she always had an artsy project available for visits.

After 40 years of fighting pain and handicapping health issues, she died at home surrounded by people who loved her deeply. This tribute was given by a granddaughter, Macy: “My grandma is the best role model of showing me that everyone you meet becomes part of your family. I went to her house every Sunday for over 10 years. I got to know my grandma very well, and over those ten years, I also met a lot of random people at her house.” “They would walk in and say ‘oh, I knew Stacy when she lived in New York’, or ‘I knew Stacy when she was a young woman's president’, or ‘I'm the next door neighbor and she invited me over’.” “People from 5 states away [and even foreign countries] would come to visit because she invited them to and they felt at home. Her neighbors would come to our family gatherings and become part of the family. Soon enough, anyone that knew just one person in our family was welcome to come to her house anytime. She refused to shut anyone out and invited all the people she could, every time.” “She taught me that families consist of the people we grew up with, the people we shared homes with, the people we're friends with, the people that you share memories with.