Betty T Davis

She was under hospice care and surrounded by family members at the end. Only a week prior, she had been able to celebrate Thanksgiving with four generations, which she knew would be her last.

Betty was at peace with her impending death, buoyed by faith and the knowledge that the family she had worked so long to preserve would endure. She was a daughter, a wife, a mother, a grandmother and a great-grandmother.

She was also a beloved friend, confidante and companion to generations of friends all across the country. Her vibrant and effervescent personality made her an unforgettable presence in the lives of her many friends. As one of them said after she passed, Betty was “the absolute definition of a hoot.”

The two landscapes that defined her life could not have been more different—the bayou country of South Louisiana where she grew up, and the mountains of northern New Mexico, which she came to love thanks to her husband’s family.

Betty T. Davis was born at home in Canton, MS on April 11, 1931. Not long thereafter, the Thompson family moved to Louisiana, first to Lafayette and then to Lake Charles, where she spent the majority of her young life. She attended Louisiana State University in Baton Rouge and McNeese State University in Lake Charles. She worked for a short time as a secretary, but her most cherished roles were as a wife and mother.

Betty met her future husband, John D. Davis, on a blind date arranged by her future brother-in-law, Sam Davis. She was a Southern girl who pretty much thought Gone With the Wind was a documentary and the Kentucky Derby was a High Holy Day; he was a product of the West Texas town of Lubbock who had served during World War II and attended Texas A&M University. He came from a

long line of coaches and teachers and grew up believing the Southwest Conference basically invented the sport of college football, and dust was a primary color. They were married on May 23, 1953 at her parents’ home in Lake Charles.

For the rest of her life, the surest way to incur Betty’s wrath was to make a disparaging remark against either the Fightin’ Texas Aggies or her beloved LSU Tigers (“Geaux Tigers!”)

After their marriage, the couple moved to Midland, TX where Johnny began to pursue a living as a petroleum geologist. Not long thereafter, they relocated to Dallas where he joined the prestigious petroleum consulting firm of DeGolyer & McNaughton. The pair had three children, John Terry, Scott and Kelly.

It was through Johnny’s family that Betty was introduced to New Mexico, specifically the Sangre de Cristo mountain country north of Santa Fe. Johnny’s parents, both teachers, had established a summer camp called Camp Davis, where their students and their friends’ kids could escape the Texas heat. Camp Davis eventually grew to be a summer-long tradition that included boys’ camp, girls’ camp and family camp. It endured as a family-run business for over 75 years.

It was a long-running joke among Johnny and his three brothers that any girl they brought to Camp who wasn’t enamored of the place was automatically disqualified from future courtship. Happily, Betty was instantly smitten with the gorgeous locale and returned as often as she could for over half a century. Later, when she and Johnny left Dallas to make their home in Santa Fe for nearly three decades, Camp was just a 90-minute drive away.

After Johnny passed away in 2011, Betty remained at their Santa Fe house, courting new friends and becoming involved in the civic fabric of the city. She remained in Santa Fe for a few more years before deciding to uproot and relocate to Austin, where she rented an apartment in an independent living facility close to her son Terry, his wife Kathy, and her granddaughter, K.C. Murphy and her family.

Until the end of her life, she had an embroidered pillow on the couch of her apartment that read “Love You To the Mountains and Back.”

Betty Davis grew up in an era of epochal changes—a Great Depression, a World War, a moon landing, a global pandemic, and too many marvels and tragedies to count. But her throughline was always family, and she never ceased to preach its essential importance to whoever would listen. Her ceaseless efforts in that regard would result in four generations of relations who will in turn spend the rest of their lives trading “Betty stories.”

Betty Davis was preceded in death by her husband, Johnny. She leaves three children, John Terry Davis, Scott Davis, and Kelly Davis Murphy, and their spouses, Kathy, Kris and Bennett, as well as four grandchildren, K.C. Murphy, Patrick Murphy, Drew Davis and John Truman Davis. She is also a great-grandmother several times over, whose ranks include Gabriel and Cameron Murphy, Ellie and Charlie Davis, and Sullivan Davis.

No formal services are planned, although a memorial gathering will be announced in the near future. Betty will be cremated and laid to rest next to Johnny at Camp Davis. Her resting place has a splendid view of the mountains.