Elizabeth Rodolf Brooke

January 18, 1918 – May 11, 2017

Betty was the eldest child in the family of Frances Hemphill and McKeriel Rodolf. Born at her grandmother’s in Neillsville, Wisconsin, she grew up in Tulsa, Oklahoma. As a lovely teen, she fell in love with a handsome, impulsive man who was a bit of a daredevil. At the age of 18 she left Tulsa to attend the University of Colorado where she majored in French and joined the Alpha Phi sorority.

Other men were part of the picture there, but the war began, and the high school beau, now with a degree in Engineering, was going to California to work at Convair, in San Diego. He asked her to join him there as his wife, so one year short of graduation, she married him on June 11, 1941.

Once married, her pattern emerged of humbly and quietly adjusting, building a solid foundation that supported the vagaries of her creative but unpredictable husband. She would have chosen to live in La Jolla, but he wanted to live in Rancho Santa Fe, a small rural, largely agricultural community north of San Diego. They purchased their first house on Paseo Arbolado, a small stucco ranch home on an acre of land in 1942 for $9000. He commuted to San Diego for work in an unpredictable car that had a hard time chugging up the Torrey Pines grade. Their first child, Penny, was born in 1942. While he was experiencing sympathetic labor on the couch, Betty figured out how to get herself to the nearest hospital. The second child, John, was born in 1946, and a third, Rex, in 1949.

So what was her life about? She was committed to doing well by her family. Betty tended to the home and family, while Hubert, in addition to working at Convair, tried a variety of business ventures that provided the challenge to his creativity that he craved; ultimately he founded Rancho Santa Fe Engineering

While Hubert, the optimist and dreamer, had all sorts of lofty aspirations for their children—athletics, academics, and fun, Betty, the pragmatist, provided the structure. Dinners were a sit down affair where manners were essential. Hubert stressed conversation, and she provided the motivation and the rules that made civil conversation possible. She provided the definition of an ample space within which the children could roam, made sure they were always well dressed, well fed, and well spoken. They both made sure the children were schooled in music, tennis, golf, dancing, and that Penny could sew and cook.

When Hubert retired from Convair to work full time at Rancho Santa Fe Engineering, she stepped in to be sure the basics of the business were organized. She did all the billing, the filing of papers obtaining permits—all the necessary infrastructure to make things work in the same way she created the structure that allowed the family to work.

She delighted in her friends. As soon as the young couple was settled, Betty began her life long friendships with the early settlers of the community: Gloria Hellyer, Betty Hillman, Fran Johnson, Midge Duncan, Beverly Randol, Pat Manion, Thyra Fellows, and Merle Dutton among them. She loved the beach, riding the waves on wind bags, later on luxurious rubber rafts. She loved bridge, and the bridge ladies played regularly until there were no longer enough of them who could see, or who could hold their cards and remember what they bid. Even then they gathered and played and enjoyed each other’s company. Many of these same women played tennis regularly, and into their late 80’s. Golf was sometimes in the mix.

She loved to read. In the early years, she always had a stack of books from the visiting mobile library, later a regular patron of the RSF Library, and finally when her visual impairment no longer allowed her to read, she listened to books on tape from the Braille Institute. Very few days were days without reading.

She felt strongly about being of service. Beginning with her work as a plane spotter during WWII, she had volunteer commitments. Her favorite was Country Friends, a consignment shop that dealt in fine furniture, art, china, silver and the like, giving the proceeds to county charities. She worked there for 20 years in the office, getting donations appraised and doing the bookwork. It was probably the work she most loved, combining as it did, her love of beautiful things and her organization skills. She loved art, especially Asian art, and collected a sizable number of interesting pieces. She loved the intellectual challenge of ferreting out the value of a piece. She also volunteered for Meals on Wheels with her sister-in-law, Betty Lou Brooke.

She enjoyed seeing the world first hand. After Hubert retired, they took a number of trips, and after his death she continued traveling with friends and her children.

She continued with tennis and bridge and travel as long as she could, as one by one her friends left. She declined slowly, losing mobility, sight and hearing over the years. Yet she maintained a determined good humor as the circumference of her life tightened around her, only railing occasionally that there was no longer able to do meaningful work. She began falling around age 95, and needed a caregiver during the day who would cook and help her. Mentally, she was sharp as a tack until she died. Her accounting was to the penny, and she loved hearing news of the community, that she had lived in for 75 years..

When she was 96, it became clear that she needed assistance around the clock, and so her youngest son, Rex, moved in with her. She would do a crossword puzzle every afternoon before she had her glass of wine, and then together they would listen to the news and then to Jeopardy while eating Rex’s masterful dinners. The evenings were topped off by a piece of See’s candy.

Since a teenager, she had always had at least one dog, a trait that was passed on to her children. Her favorites were her Shih Tzus, feisty, funny independent dogs who left their marks on her heart and her house. The last of her beloved dogs died when she was 97.

Betty died at age 98. She was ready to go, and ambivalent about going to the end. Several days before she died, after five days of sleepless agitation and two days of exhausted sleep, she woke up and announced she didn’t think she would die. She did a crossword puzzle and asked for a glass of wine. Two days later, on May 11, 2017, she moved on. She was a stoically loyal, self-depreciating, generous, no nonsense woman, with a wry sense of humor, and a clear sense of social order: a class act. She leaves behind her 3 children and 10 grandchildren, all of whom have benefited in some way from the person she was.