{"id":965,"date":"2016-08-02T22:13:42","date_gmt":"2016-08-02T22:13:42","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.artfoodsoul.com\/?p=965"},"modified":"2021-01-29T14:58:44","modified_gmt":"2021-01-29T14:58:44","slug":"rhody-a-swell-gal","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.artfoodsoul.com\/?p=965","title":{"rendered":"Rhody — “A Swell Gal”"},"content":{"rendered":"

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\nRhoda Jane Hurley died the evening of Friday, July 22 surrounded by many loving family members. To be honest it was a shock. She was very much like the Energizer Bunny, always rallying and roaring back stronger than ever. Not this time.<\/p>\n

She was born in Claremont, NH on October 8, 1938 to Lottie Mae and Clifford A. Densmore, the fourth \u201csurprise\u201d with much older siblings. Her fondest childhood memories were of her mother\u2019s beautiful home and gardens, and she used to reminisce about the fresh garden vegetables — tomato sandwiches, cucumber sandwiches, radish and butter sandwiches and gorgeous salad plates her mother would lay out. She had a pet pig, who would meet her after school and she was allowed to shoot at cans for recreation. Her parents\u2019 deaths in her eighth year haunted her all of her life, but she persevered, raised by her older sister, Carol, and traveled to a bigger world than Claremont. Her sister was married to a Navy man, and they lived on Chicago\u2019s North Shore in a striking Art Deco apartment building at 5200 Sheridan Road for a few years. When she was 11, she traveled by plane to her maternal Grammy Angela\u2019s in Maine, a place she felt cared for and well-loved. She had deep roots throughout New England, with ancestors having fought at Bunker Hill and in Shay\u2019s Rebellion.<\/p>\n

Rhoda finished her school years in Rhode Island, graduating from No. Kingstown High School in 1956, where she was known as \u201cRhody,\u201d a swell gal with a terrific personality, the nicest girl in the senior class or any other class. Just a blue-eyed blonde, never known to wear a frown, her sunny disposition won her many friends. She planned on entering the nursing field, but met a dashing young Marine named Bill Hurley at the Hingham Marine Barracks pool, and nursing school became a distant memory. Roller coaster rides at Nantasket Beach, followed by Bill\u2019s many trips to RI while courting, led to marriage on January 16, 1957 in E. Greenwich, RI. They had no real honeymoon, but in March of 1957, they were off to NC and the journey began.<\/p>\n

Within six years, there were many moves to various bases throughout the South. Four daughters were born, and her husband was off to the Mediterranean and the Caribbean for the Cuban Missile Crisis, and other assignments. Through it all, she held home base together while her husband did his job, all this by the age of 25, with four girls, ages 5 and under.<\/p>\n

In Quantico, life settled down for a bit, with Bill back on base. She pursued Altar Rosary, ceramics classes and decorating her home as the girls grew a bit.<\/p>\n

In the summer of 1967, after a Cape Cod vacation, Bill moved her to a house in a brand new Hyannis neighborhood. Within a week, he was off to Vietnam and Rhoda settled into an unfinished house with her girls, ages 3 through 9. Throughout his \u201ctour,\u201d she set about finishing their house, had a midnight sled ride one snowy night with neighbors down the only hill around, and set about worrying about Bill during the Siege of Khe Sahn while caring for their daughters. Her girls were her life and she particularly loved their school vacations when they were home with her. The winter of 1968, she finally had that honeymoon in Hawaii with Bill when he had his R and R from Vietnam. When he returned for good that summer of 1968, the next move was to Ohio Steel Country to run the Marine Recruiting Center. It was the turbulent times of Kent State and Vietnam protests, but after two years they returned to the Cape for a couple of years so Bill could finish college, before it was off for another tour, this one in California. In 1974, they returned to the cape for good, with Bill doing tours of duty that didn\u2019t require moving the family.<\/p>\n

Rhoda loved interior design, refinishing furniture, and making a home. She was a long-time subscriber to Better Homes and Gardens, she loved reading, especially history, biographies and mysteries, and she was an avid map collector. Her love of geography she shared with her son-in-law, Patrick with a yearly subscription to National Geographic. Although a homemaker, she was also very much a business manager, keeping a meticulous household and records. She dressed impeccably, and Kathleen Needham used to tell Rhoda’s daughter \u201cyour mother was always so glamorous.\u201d<\/p>\n

Her daughters\u2019 friends all loved her as she did them, particularly Holly Murzic Romotsky, who predeceased her in 1986. She swapped her car for Holly\u2019s 1960\u2019s battered Rambler wagon one weekend so daughter \u201cPatti Ann\u201d and her friend Holly, would have a safe, reliable vehicle to travel off-cape in. She knew what she was in for and loved to tell the story, as sometimes you had to lift the Rambler\u2019s hood and use a wrench on the choke to get it to start.<\/p>\n

Rhoda was a great storyteller, and she could tell you a good one, full of colorful details if you had the time to listen. A smart, independent woman with a sharp tongue and a memory like an elephant\u2019s, she had a sense of humor, loads of personality and was known as a \u201choot,\u201d \u201cfeisty,\u201d and a \u201ccool lady.\u201d She adored dogs, particularly Bucky, her beloved Obi (with his own room and loveseat), Joey, Bob, and numerous Sullivan canines. It was a mutual admiration society.<\/p>\n

It was hard letting go of her daughters as they left home, but fortunately there were grandchildren to sustain her for a few more decades.<\/p>\n

Daughter Jacqueline remembers most \u201cmy mother calling me JJ, how much she loved me, how much she loved her son-in-law Patrick, and how much she loved our daughters Meredith and Caroline. I will always know these things to be true.\u201d Betsy recalls the time when she was three and Rhoda left her at the Base Nursery Care while she shopped once. Afterwards, in the car Betsy stood in the back seat, ranting at her mother, \u201cDon\u2019t you ever leave me. I am not ready for you to leave me!\u201d Betsy remembered “Oh I was mad at her. She was so flustered I think that was the time she ran a red light and got a ticket.”<\/p>\n

Niece Debbie recalls wild times — \u201cone that immediately comes to mind includes flying dishes,\u201d and her mother, Patsy, Rhoda\u2019s older sister — but also healing times. \u201cReconnecting with your mother was a wonderful thing. It helped me in dealing with my mother\u2019s death, and it helped with some of my unresolved anger. I love your mother as if she were my own, but without the hurtful baggage.\u201d Spirited Densmore girls, flying dishes, sisterly shenanigans, but always love in the end.<\/p>\n

A few years before she died, Rhoda reminisced, about Betsy’s birth, life in Chicago, her mother’s garden, her own beautiful penmanship and how daughter Kathleen’s penmanship was just as beautiful. She’d cry sometimes, saying how much she was going to miss her children when she was gone.<\/p>\n

According to Marty, Patricia\u2019s mate, \u201cWe never agreed on anything. She was a conservative Republican. I was a liberal Democrat. She loved the Mannings. I loathed the Mannings. She loved horse racing and hated baseball. Quite the opposite for me. The one thing we did have in common is that we would never concede defeat when we got in an argument. After a time, we tended to avoid hot topics, knowing that it was futile to think that either one of us would concede to the other. More recently I would call her on a regular basis, usually in the evening. Rhoda tended to take her frustrations out on Patricia so I decided I would take up some of the burden. After a short while I ended up enjoying our conversations. We eventually were able to even talk politics, as she became a disgruntled Republican and I a disillusioned Democrat. We found a common ground. I miss our evening chats already. I suspect we\u2019ll resume them in a future life — another place, another time, but never recalling our past. Until we meet again.\u201d<\/p>\n

As granddaughter Molly writes,\u201d To my best friend, spirit animal, and the woman who gave me all my sass, style and sweet tooth, my heart is in a million pieces without you. Wherever you are, Gram, I hope the decor is impeccable and the Manishewitz is flowing. I\u2019ll meet you there someday. I\u2019ll miss you forever. I\u2019ll love you for always.\u201d<\/p>\n

Besides her daughters Patricia (mate Marty Gravelle), Kathleen, Jacqueline (Patrick Sullivan) and Elizabeth (mate Vincent D\u2019Olympio), Rhoda leaves behind her grandchildren Anthony and Molly Pizzo, Sophie Larios, Helen, Mairead and Albert Hurley, Meredith and Caroline Sullivan, great-grandson Isaac, niece Debra Coderre Woodman, and numerous friends and relatives.<\/p>\n

A closing note in her yearbook from high school pal Bub \u201cLanky\u201d Ramstead read, \u201cTo Rhoda, If in heaven we don\u2019t meet, hand in hand we\u2019ll stand the heat. Lots of luck.\u201d<\/p>\n

The last word: If Rhoda were reading this she\u2019d snap, \u201cThat\u2019s not the way it happened!\u201d and she\u2019d proceed to set the record straight. The story never ends. We miss you, mama.<\/p>\n

**We always pronounced it Mum or Mumma.
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Rhoda Jane Hurley died the evening of Friday, July 22 surrounded by many loving family members. To be honest it was a shock. She was very much like the Energizer Bunny, always rallying and roaring back stronger than ever. Not this time. She was born in Claremont, NH on October 8, 1938 to Lottie Mae … Continue reading “Rhody — “A Swell Gal””<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[625],"tags":[607,609,608,606],"class_list":["post-965","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-soul","tag-grief","tag-longing","tag-loss","tag-mum"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artfoodsoul.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/965","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artfoodsoul.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artfoodsoul.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artfoodsoul.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artfoodsoul.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=965"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.artfoodsoul.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/965\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":969,"href":"https:\/\/www.artfoodsoul.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/965\/revisions\/969"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artfoodsoul.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=965"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artfoodsoul.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=965"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artfoodsoul.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=965"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}