Obituary of Frances May VanderWel

Frances VanderWel quietly and peacefully departed life’s Great Ballroom on Friday, March 4th, shortly after a visit from loved ones. She was 100. Frances Bertha May Lattin was born in Butte, Montana, on November 28th 1911, and lived briefly in Spokane, but spent most of her life from 1919 on in Seattle, the city she loved with all her heart. As a kid her favorite games were hide and seek, mumblety peg (with a pocket knife), swimming at Madrona Beach , and rollerskating near Westlake and Denny in Seattle . She attended Lincoln High School, graduating in 3 ½ years, and was honored as the only member of her class to attend their 75th reunion several years ago. Frances grew up spending much of her time downtown working at Frasier/Patterson in bookkeeping and accounting, followed by a stint working at General Insurance. Decades later, she still took great pride in showing her grandchildren and great-grandchildren around Seattle, pointing out landmarks and what had or hadn’t changed with the years. Frances adored people-watching and never tired of studying her fellow Seattleites. She met Henry VanderWel II, saxophonist with the local jazz band Van’s Vampers and a sheet metal foreman, at a drinking fountain at a Broadway High School dance in 1928. They were married on St. Patrick’s Day (“easy to remember”) in 1935. They lived for over 48 years together at 34th NE and 70th in Seattle, raising three children, Hank, Johanna, and Louie, in a house known for its iconic “Season’s Greetings” sign spelled out in green neon during the holidays. They were the last family on the block to get a TV set, and only did so because Johanna was featured on KOMO. Henry passed away in 1984. In 1970, after a brief stint at another insurance company, Frances returned to business working regularly at her son Hank’s Commercial Laundry and Linen Supply in Renton doing bookkeeping and payroll. She moved to several apartments in the Seattle area, then to Enumclaw, then Tacoma, then finally to Sumner. She worked steadily into her 70’s and then “retired”—officially—from work at age 77. She continued to knit doll clothes and garments for babies and children and hats for the homeless until as late as age 99, creating literally hundreds of outfits and gifts for charity. Later in life she also traveled extensively, to places as far-flung as Scandinavia ( Denmark and Sweden ), Japan, and Hawaii. She also enjoyed taking local bus tours to see Washington’s natural wonders or to concerts. Again, she always loved to watch people and soak up the culture of wherever she was. She was also a fierce card player, “beating the pants off” of grandchildren and great-grandchildren decades younger than herself. She regularly went on trail walks and hikes with family and friends, and loved to swing dance well into her 90’s. She remarked at age 91, “I don’t plan to sit around at home until old age catches up with me." Unsurprisingly, considering how much she loved to dance, Frances adored music, especially swing and her beloved Dixieland; if there was live music playing, she would inevitably begin to nod her head, drum her fingers, and tap her toes. All of her children and many of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren also excelled at music by playing a variety of instruments, or even becoming a professor in music. Frances had a playfully wicked Sagittarian sense of humor her entire life. (A couple weeks before her passing, when an aide asked if she could lift up a sheet to examine her leg, Frances cracked “It’ll cost you a quarter.”) She was known for her outstanding cooking skills, including corn waffles, Swedish meatballs, and Parker House rolls. She received a congratulations letter for her 100th birthday from President and Mrs. Obama, as well as a letter of congratulations from NBC and Willard Scott. Her secret to long life, her bio explained, was “white wine, hot jazz, and ice cream.” When asked what important lesson she hoped all her children and grandchildren learned, she said "not to spend all their money!" Notably, Frances grew with the nation; she saw the horse and buggy give way to a man walking on the moon, the Roaring 20's, the hardships of the Depression, the war years, her children start families of their own, and a new century come to pass with her quick wit and charm intact. She was very lucky late in life to have had lots of friends and family regularly visiting and caring for her, especially her granddaughters Ginny and Sara, her son-in-law Jim, the staff of the Mountain View Adult Care Home, and her friends Joe and Annie. She is preceded in death by her husband Henry, son Hank, and daughter Johanna. She is survived by her son Louie and his wife Danene, and her son-in-law Jim Backus, along with ten grandchildren, five great-grandchildren, one great-great grandchild, and various in-laws and cousins as far-flung as the Netherlands. In lieu of services, there will be a picnic this summer at Golden Gardens, north of Seattle, where guests will hopefully be able to see some of the Northwest’s butterflies that Frances adored so. The following is from a jazz standard of the 1930’s. “Beyond the blue horizon Waits a beautiful day Goodbye to things that bore me Joy is waiting for me I see a new horizon My life has only begun Beyond the blue horizon Lies a rising sun” --Leo Robin