E. Varyne Von Durr

Varyne lived to be 94 years old. She would be happy to know it was a peaceful end surrounded by her two children: Gayla Brashears (75) and Bo Durr (69). In her final days, all of her granddaughters visited her bedside. She was cracking jokes until the end, conjuring gossip about the doctors and nurses to make her stay “more interesting.” Her sense of humor was unmatched. She could make anyone laugh.

Born in 1928 to Elsie and Thomas A. Hicks, she was the youngest of four children. She was their wild child, a rebel from the start. She once burned down the outhouse by hiding in there to smoke cigarettes. Her siblings were Evelyn, Leon, and T.A. Hicks.

She was born and raised on a farm outside Marshall, Texas. Her favorite activity was going into town patrolling those brick paved streets to “see and be seen” cruising the courthouse square.

At 17, she attended North Texas State Teachers College (now known as the University of North Texas) in Denton, Texas. It was there that she met her first husband Leland Brashears, a journalism major. They eloped in May of their freshman year. In 1947, their daughter Gayla was born. Six years later son Bo was came along.

They moved from Laguna Beach to Austin, with a few stops along the way, as Leland pursued his education. She even worked as a typist at the State Capitol, supporting her family. (Many years later her eldest granddaughter followed in her footsteps working under the pink dome.) But in the end, Leland couldn’t keep up with an ambitious, spitfire woman like Varyne.

After about a decade of working and raising her kids in Houston, Varyne followed her second husband, Marshall Durr, to Cameron, Texas where they bought a farm outside of town. There she owned a horse named Doc that she loved to ride.

She was very musically inclined. She played drums, tambourine, maracas, and anything else that made noise. She played piano by ear. She was disappointed to discover none of her offspring inherited her musical talent but there is still hope for her great grandchildren: Aiden, Cameron and Skylar.

She was very proud of her children. You won’t find a trio more tightknit that Varyne and her kids. She spoke to one or both of them almost every day, providing much needed counsel for all of life’s big and small challenges. Many friends and family members sought her advice…er…strong suggestions. Her bond with her granddaughters was extraordinary. She often kept the girls on weekends and for weeks at a time during the summer break taking them on adventures all over Houston. The void of her absence will be felt for years to come.

In the 1970s, she moved back to Houston. She took the banking and mortgage loan industry by storm and worked in many capacities until she was 77 years old. She bought a condo in the Museum District in 1973 and lived there until her final days. She was a great boss, a born leader. She mentored many younger women throughout her career. Her beauty, sharp wardrobe and quick wit made a lasting impression on all who were lucky enough to have met her.

She liked bright colors, good makeup and high heels. Her favorite neon sweatshirt is a coveted item amongst her granddaughters. While staying with friends in Seattle in the 1980s, the fire alarm erupted in the night. Varyne refused to evacuate the building stating she would “rather burn alive than let anyone see her without her makeup on.”

She liked to read autobiographies and gossip magazines, and her daily morning ritual since retirement was sitting down with a bottle of Starbucks Frappuccino and the Houston Chronicle, which she read cover to cover (especially the obituary section) before passing it on for a neighbor to enjoy. After her second divorce, Varyne legally changed her last name to “von Durr,” a name of her own creation inspired by a dear family friend.

She loved to send greeting cards to her friends and family for every holiday. As a quintessential Leo who strongly identified with her bold astrological sign, she leaves behind a vast collection of lion figurines and artwork.

This matriarch’s exit has left her kingdom adrift without a rudder. She lives on through her surviving children, grandchildren, great grandchildren and many lifelong friends. There are many ways to measure a person’s impact on this world. Anyone whose departure after 94 years leaves three generations feeling lost must have been a life well lived.

Thankfully she has left us all with tokens of wisdom for every occasion. Her witty catchphrases will be echoed by friends and family for years to come. Her watchful gaze continues to observe her people from above, so don’t mess up!