Alice Irene (Tiefenthaler) Harper, age 98, passed away peacefully on November 16, 2025. Born on March 20, 1927, in Anaconda, Montana, she spent nearly a century proving that life is best lived with curiosity, movement, laughter, and just the right amount of mischief.

After World War II, Alice and her husband, Vernon Harper, built their life together in Ogden, Utah, raising three sons and creating a home rooted in stability and warmth. Alice spent her career as a librarian, serving students at the Utah School for the Deaf and Blind, the Utah Bookmobile, and later at Washington High School, where her patience and compassion touched countless young lives.

Alice's retirement years were rich with time spent outdoors with Vern, snowmobiling in the mountains near Monte Cristo and camping at Pineview Reservoir at the Ogden Boat Club during long Utah summers. These memories now carry a special ache for the family members who shared those moments with them.

To her grandchildren, Alice was a steady and loving presence, someone who brought joy simply by being near. Most of her family will remember many holidays spent at her home with long tables stretched end to end in her basement, filled with food and memories. Alice believed firmly in staying active, daily walks for almost all of her life, crossword puzzles, and always looking forward to the next family event. But when pressed for her secret to a long and happy life, she delivered one of her most memorable lines: "Bacon isn't really optional at breakfast, and sangria never hurt anyone either." Her family suspects this may actually have been the real formula. Alice is survived by her three sons—William Harper, Wayne Harper, and Jerry Harper—as well as her ten grandchildren, twenty-two great-grandchildren and six great-great-grandchildren. Each carries a part of her with them, along with the sorrow of saying goodbye.

Alice spent her final year at Sunridge Assisted Living in Roy, Utah, where she continued to share warmth and wisdom until her passing. The daily walks may have been replaced with daily mahjong games, but her mind and spirit stayed just as powerful until the end. A celebration of her remarkable and spirited life will be held in spring 2026. Further details will be extended to family and friends early next year. She leaves behind laughter, love, a reminder to keep moving—and to never underestimate the power of bacon and sangria.