June Murphy Caldwell

of June Rae Murphy Caldwell

June Rae Murphy Caldwell lived her long life the way she tended her garden: with patience, positivity, and loving care for others. She cherished life’s roses but also embraced its thorns. At nearly 96 years old, she passed away peacefully on November 25, 2025, surrounded by her children. She deeply impacted all who knew her with her quiet strength and wisdom: three children, six grandchildren, three great-grandchildren, and lifelong friends.

Born in Portland, Oregon, on February 11, 1930, just months into the Great Depression, June was the first child of Raymond Murphy and June Hurt. When June was just four years old, she and her little sister, Billie, were taken from their mother by Ray’s family. The Mormon side of the family feared that Ray’s philandering might cost him his marriage and the two girls, so they took June and Billie to Salt Lake City. After this, the girls never saw their mother again.

When June was six years old, Ray sought a divorce in Las Vegas and found work as a desk clerk at the Apache Hotel. He met and married the glamorous Pat Condon, also in Las Vegas for a divorce. Las Vegas in the ‘30s was a dusty boomtown, rising out of the desert with equal parts grit and possibility. Ray moved the girls to live with him and Pat, along with Pat’s daughter, Jeanne, who was June’s age. From that moment on, Jeanne, June, and Billie formed a tight bond that lasted all their lives; the “Murphy girls” stuck together through thick and thin.

After winning an undeveloped ranch property in a card game, Ray and Pat relocated their young family to this partially-built new home with only one finished bedroom. Without indoor bedrooms, June, Billie and Jeanne slept on army cots on an outside porch. Never bitter, but merely reporting the facts of her colorful childhood, June and her sisters later recalled how the legs of the cots sat in cans of water to keep scorpions from reaching the girls.

Meanwhile, June’s birth mother went on to marry again and had another family in Oregon. She never stopped looking for her two lost girls, and was not able to find them in her 74 years of life. However, much later in life, fate connected the Murphy girls with June Hurt’s other children and this unknown side of their family. Her half-siblings shared an 18-page letter that June Hurt had written explaining her side of the story, and her unfulfilled quest to find her two precious girls. From an early age, June had an uncanny ability to tolerate hardships, never complaining about her peculiar childhood.

Luckily for the Murphy girls, as Las Vegas grew into the corrupt and hedonistic “Sin City,” Ray and Pat moved to Westchester, California in the 1940s. The girls attended El Segundo High School where they thrived. As a self-motivated and intelligent young woman, June was the first member of her family to attend college. At 17, she enrolled at UCSB and joined the sorority chapter Kappa Alpha Theta. Her social life blossomed, even making headlines with accolades such as “Homecoming Court” and “Easter Queen.”

After graduation, with a yearning to travel the world, June landed the coveted position of a Pan Am stewardess, relocating her to San Francisco. The early days of working for an airline was a noteworthy honor. Pan Am hired her despite falling one inch short of their 5’3” height requirement, and they never regretted making an exception for this affable, young woman who always looked iconic in her blue uniform and hat. Though she did not have seniority, Pan Am chose her to accompany the Prime Minister of Thailand and his wife on an around-the-world trip. Newspaper articles featuring her journey remind us of the special responsibility she was given, an experience that widened her world forever and launched a lifelong love of travel.

In 1955, June embarked on a new chapter of life with marriage and children. June later reflected that her role of being a mother was the most important job she ever had. She married John Toellner, a rising young engineer, in 1956. They lived in San Francisco and New York, and had their first child, Jon, in 1957. Their first daughter Jolie was born 18 months later in 1958, and soon after, they settled in Manhattan Beach, bringing June back to the South Bay and her early roots. In 1963, they had their third child and second daughter, Jaye.

Shortly thereafter, June and John moved the family to Los Feliz, where they built a life and a community with their family during the 1960s and 1970s. An early devotee of wellness, June was a pioneer in raising her family on health foods, a habit that lives on in her children and grandchildren today. She worked as a teacher at Pilgrim School, where all the children attended. June also worked at John’s management consulting business along with her sisters, uniting the Murphy sisters in the workplace. She was progressive well before her time, balancing both a domestic and professional life. June also had a natural eye and a distinct personal style, always looking polished and chic.

When John divorced her in her late 40s, June discovered a newfound sense of resilience and ambition and earned her master’s degree in psychology at Pepperdine University. June relocated to Manhattan Beach, once again returning to the South Bay. While she built her psychology practice, the older kids attended college, and Jaye finished out high school. June opened the American Counseling Institute in Redondo Beach, which she ran for 40 years until she retired at the age of 88. She also did pro bono work at the South Bay Wellness Community, helping people with terminal illnesses. June’s career as a psychologist and her early adoption of “wellness” before it was an industry drew everybody who met her to seek her advice. Meditation, “active” listening, and positive affirmations became a signature part of her lifestyle in the 1970s.

In a time when disco dancing, permed hair, and golden tans were in fashion, June was an icon. In the 1980s, June met and fell in love with Bob Caldwell, and they married in 1984. During their 25-year marriage, they had a vibrant social life in Manhattan Beach, where they lived. June used her minimalistic decorating approach to create a very happy, blended home for the Caldwell and Toellner Families. Both sets of kids enjoyed spending time at their house. This era was full of volleyball tournaments, USC football games, costume parties, and Christmas sing-alongs. In addition to enjoying their Manhattan Beach sunsets, June and Bob traveled the world.

June created a Manhattan Beach legacy, by replacing the city's ice-plant with a thriving flower garden in the area across from the Strand. If anyone could grow roses and sunflowers in the sand, it was June. The other neighbors eventually followed suit; today’s gardens on the Strand all originated with June. With a natural green thumb, she was able to identify any flower she saw. After Bob

passed away in 2010, the Caldwell house was sold. June relocated back to her original house, remaining in Manhattan Beach. Resilient as ever, she continued her counseling, running her household, keeping fit, traveling, and spending time with family and friends.

Always cheerful, she answered the phone with a bright, unmistakable, “Happy Days!” She rekindled a friendship with her El Segundo High School friend Walt Puffer, a recent widower. They would attend their alma mater’s football games, as one of the few “couples” who were part of the graduating class of 1947. This later-in-life romance, based on a shared past, thrived while they traveled together and celebrated milestones.

June was a dutiful grandmother—known lovingly as “Tutu”—to Jonno, Julia, Charlie, Chelsea, Chloe, Hattie, and Eva. She made countless trips to visit them wherever they lived, be it Washington, DC, London, or Los Angeles. She took great pride in being able to take her children and their families on adventurous trips around the world, sharing her love of travel and experiencing other cultures.

Unbeknownst to us all, June wrote letters to her grandchildren, over 30 years, mailing them to herself and storing them unopened. In this legacy, along with her many journals, she chronicled life and marked time by sharing nine decades of experience and wisdom, all in her beautiful cursive writing. She recorded observations from all over the world, intending for them to be opened years later by her grandchildren—now in their 20s and 30s. She was able to meet three of her great-grandchildren, expanding the circle of those who knew her as Tutu.

After she turned 90, what started as a Thanksgiving visit during the pandemic became a 5-year stay in her daughter Jaye’s household in Los Angeles. John, Jaye, Hattie, and Eva welcomed her with open arms. Even after the kids went to college, June stayed on and spent her final years surrounded by the hustle and bustle of family life. She was cared for tenderly by devoted caregivers, especially Maria Benavidez, who became her beloved ally. As June became more frail, she took up a perch in her bedroom with the three Rogovin dogs, one of which, Leelo, never left her side.

June passed peacefully in her sleep on November 25, 2025, just months before her 96th birthday. She was surrounded by her three children, who said goodbye with heavy hearts but were very grateful that she lived a full and meaningful life. June is survived in life by children Jon Toellner (Laura Kaiser), Jolie Nelson (Chuck), Jaye Rogovin (John); grandchildren Jonno Toellner (Julie), Charlie Nelson (Lexi), Julia, Chelsea, and Chloe Nelson, Hattie and Eva Rogovin; and great-grandchildren Luke and Keiran Toellner, and Charlotte Nelson. She is predeceased by her fellow Murphy sisters Billie Jean Ryan, Jeanne Wacker, and half-siblings Glenda and Fred McClaskey.

In lieu of flowers, June believed in charitable giving and would love anyone to give to their charity of choice in her honor, or to United Friends of the Children, benefiting foster youth in Los Angeles. No one who ever met June ever spoke ill of her. She led her life with a sense of humor, spirituality, and incredible generosity. Tutu would tell us she is “now with the angels and visualizing positive energy to all she loved.”

Her ashes reside at Pierce Bros. Mortuary with a small plaque that reads, “I’m in my garden.”

Keep thriving and growing, dear June, until we see you again.