A friend of mine attended the funeral of Robert Matthews this past Thursday. He told me that his favorite story came from one of the daughters. She says that her father was on an airplane a number of years ago, reading his triple combination (leather, with his name embossed on the cover in gold). The woman seated next to him was quite talkative, so he eventually closed his scriptures and had a pleasant conversation with her. When they arrived, as they were headed toward luggage pick-up, she shook his hand and remarked that she had really enjoyed meeting him, and congratulated him on his book. He was puzzled at first, and then realized that she meant his scriptures. “Oh, no,” he said. “I didn’t write that book.” “Don’t be modest,” she responded. “Your name is on the cover. The Book of Mormon is a very famous book, and it’s been a great honor to meet its author.”