In the spring of 2002, Bev was diagnosed with ovarian cancer -- undoubtedly terminal, but with chemo, the doctor thought she might live another 1-3 years. Bev put her money on three. After a hysterectomy, she started chemo with the optomistic determination of a gold miner, and she started making travel plans. If her time was limited, it was going to be good.

"Trooper" was a name invented for Bev. She never stopped smiling, and she endured painful side effects with hardly a complaint. When her hair fell out, she bought a wig, but most of the time, she didn't bother with it. Vanity was not one of Bev's weaknesses.

When the chemo caused neuropathy in her hands and feet that made walking difficult, Bev bought herself a scooter that folds up for traveling. She took it to Scandanavia, and even tried to drive it on the beaches of Hawaii. Eventually, she bought a wheelchair and a used van with a lift. She could get herself all over town. Here she is in a clown wig getting ready to watch the Eugene Celebration Parade.

A lifelong hiker, Bev regretted
that she'd never made it to the
top of Mt. Pisgah, a local
mountain. In the fall of 2004,
Kate and Jennifer arranged for
Bev to be driven by a ranger up
the hiking trails to the top,
where they toasted the view
with sparkling juice.

Nearly three years after diagnosis, Bev celebrated her 76th birthday on March 5. She died one month later. But within that month, she went to the opera and out to dinner with her friend, Sally, attended Easter services at her Methodist Church, and went swimming at the Easter Seals pool.

Bev never stopped believing in life.