Ruth
HALL, RUTH DOROTHY, Passed away April 28, 2001 at home. Ruth was born December 6, 1915 in Wyoming. She will be remembered as a loving mother, grandmother and friend, who touched the lives of many. Memorial services will be Thursday, May 3, 2001 at 2:00 PM at LaTijera United Methodist Church, 7400 Osage Ave, Westchester (L.A. 90045) CA. In lieu of flowers, family requests donations to your favorite charity in Ruth's memory.

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  1. I remember that Ruth let us, as kids, ride in the back of the station wagon with the door open. We would ride past the stinky machine to the beach or POP for a day of salt water and blazing sun. I remember Ruth doing her crossword puzzles at the table with her reading glasses on. And she would read the race results from the day before and holler things like, “I knew I shoulda gone for that Trifecta!” I remember Ruth\’s laugh, a hard “heh” that came from years of smoking and whiskey. I remember that she never, ever missed my — or my daughter Zoe\’s — birthday. She always sent a card and a check. Every Christmas, too. I remember her telling me the story of having to cut Grandma Helen\’s toenails. It must have made quite an impression on her, because she told me that story many times. Ruth was one great woman. She didn\’t let the terrible tragedy of her life turn her into an embittered woman. She continued to care for her family — all of us — until her last breath. She never lost her sweetness or kindness. I\’m not a religious person (and I doubt if she was either), but if there\’s a heaven, Ruth is up there. And I bet she\’s bowling.

  2. A lovely woman with great courage and a winning sense of humor. I\’ll also treasure the memory of her husky laugh. She\’ll be sorely missed.

  3. I remember Momma: Helping to print the Osage School paper with the “Mimeograph machine”. Driving rowdy girlscouts to special events. Working the crossword puzzle, and picking her “nags” every morning . Playing cards with the family, while our parakeet, “Budgie”, perched on her glasses. Playing Basketball with the neighborhood kids. Riding on the back of Kevin Lynch\’s motorcycle one summer. Playing the “Indian War Dance” on the piano, to the delight of all. A very spirited performance it was. Cheering in her longshots ! Worrying about what to wear to the Bridge Club, or the bowling Alley. Never forgetting a birthday. Always wanting her loved ones to visit, and have dinner. She had a special twinkle in her pretty blue eyes, a most endearing laugh, and snow white hair that felt like cotton. And, towards the end of her days, her snoaring sounded much like a Dove cooing.

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