Vesta Patterson Lee, 1942-2012

Glenna Stearman Park:  Christmas vacation of senior year, Brenda Benjamin’s parents took Vesta Patterson and me on a ski trip to Winter Park, Colorado.  Neither one of us had ever skied before, and we were light-weights with common sense.  Brenda had been there on other trips.  The ski resort looked glorious and we took the “bunny hill” like pros and learned to “snow plow” in a few minutes, and then graduated to the chair lift.  We were smart enough to get off at the halfway point because we could see what was ahead, and it seemed daunting.  First time we went down, Brenda and Vesta managed to stop in a safe area.  I kept going right into the parking lot, yelling for help.  The young men from the Air Force Academy were getting off their bus as I went zipping through them.  One voice yelled “fall down!”  I did.  I returned to the kiddy hill with a red face.  Brenda and Vesta continued to enjoy themselves back up the hill. (Right: Brenda Benjamin)

A year later, Vesta and I went skiing with a Young Life trip to Breckenridge.  It was less crowded and more fun as we knew lots of the other skiers.  We played with friends who had a home movie camera and made “chase scenes” on the slopes.   After a day or two, we drove over Wolf Creek Pass at a very snowy time, but stopped long enough to picnic with wine, cheese and bread (just like in the movies) and then took to the slippery highway as we went singing our way back to Silver Cliff Ranch outside  Colorado Springs.  We continued skiing the next day at the Broadmoor Hotel, which was just about our beginner speed.  At one point I was riding up the lift when I looked over to see Vesta packed into a basket, being brought down by the ski patrol.  I returned to the ski shop quickly, to discover Vesta in pain from some pulled muscle in her leg.  She couldn’t walk and had to hobble to the car on crutches where we returned her to Silver Cliff on put her on pain pills.  Not being such a hot athlete, I stayed with Vesta as she drifted in and out of sleep and discomfort. Our trip back to Wichita was not so easy for Vesta but the rest of us knew that we had a generally great time in the snow.

Tom Vosper   Vesta was such a wonderful girl. I knew her very well as she was on my paper route. When I threw the evening paper at her home, I seemed to get stuck there talking with her for long periods of time. I dearly loved so many of the kids that went to Sunnyside. Those years growing up were very special to me, and Vesta was part of that time. 

Janice Lee Woodman, sister-in-law  Vesta and I were good friends at Roosevelt.  She introduced me to peanut butter and banana sandwiches. When she came to California to marry my brother Bob, we had two small children and they fell in love with Vesta immediately.  I enjoyed renewing my friendship with Vesta and I had three older sisters who also became very good friends with her. It was wonderful having her as a part of our family and I miss her very much.

(Above: Vesta Patterson, 1960)

Eulogy: Korey Ann Lee Tuttle, Vesta’s Daughter

Vesta Ruth Patterson Lee passed away on September 27, 2012 at the age of 70.  She was a wonderful, caring woman who left behind a legacy of grace and honor.  When she found out she could not bear children she honored the wishes of Divinity and adopted two children who would have never known the love of a family.  I am one of those children and it is with much sadness I write this.  Her green eyes emanated beauty, love and healing to all who had the privilege to share her life.  She was born on March 8, 1942, and shared her life with Robert E. Lee for 51 years.  Their marriage taught me the beauty of love between a husband and wife.  

Every spring we would make lemonade and clean the house from top to bottom.  Some would think this a dull endeavor, but for me it was a beautiful expression of the love between mother and daughter.  She was kind to all who shared in her presence and her passing leaves a hole in the hearts of those who knew her.  But she should not be mourned, for the life she lived was one worthy of celebration.  She taught me how to be a proper woman and her legacy is one of beauty, charm and eloquence.  

On the night after she passed, she showed me that things would be okay.  As I looked up in sadness and distress at the full moon, there was a beautiful ring around the moon as if she was telling me that she still watched over me.  For two days afterwards it rained tears from the sky.  Not only was I crying for the absence of her life, but it would seem as though the whole of Divinity was saddened as well.  When the rain was at its end, she sent me a perfect rainbow to remind me that she still watched over me.

She is survived by her husband Robert Ethmer Lee, her son Robert Dean Lee, her grandsons David Robert Tuttle, Justin Tyler Tuttle and myself, her daughter Korey Ann Tuttle, as well as her sisters and brother, many nieces and nephews and many sisters and brother-in-laws.

It was her wish that there was to be no memorial or funeral, but instead her ashes would be spread on my aunt’s farm in Kansas, so that her essence provide nutrients to help new growth.  Her name was that of the Greek Goddess of the Hearth and it was more than fitting for the person she was. Now she is with her parents and sister in the beauty of Heaven.

Mom, you will be missed and never forgotten.  May your blessing rain down upon this earth and keep us all safe and wrapped in your love.

Vesta passed away on September 27, 2012 at a hospital in Tyler, TX.  She had been living in Holly Ranch, TX preceding her death.