What do you say about a woman who, at the age of 92, still won at Scrabble against her children and grand-children--many with masters degrees, some of whom, inspired by her, make their livings at writing? We accused her of cheating but we could never make it stick. This after all, was a woman who somehow managed to let her young grandchildren always win at the card game Battle, which seems cheat-proof.

But that was our Betty (AKA Mom and Grammy), who was born Elizabeth Bills on December 24, 1924, the first gift of Christmas that year. She was a special human being, an exemplary wife and a great mother, but she was born to be a grandmother. Her seven grandchildren—David, Susannah, Ben, Jake, Katie, James, and Bettina--didn’t just have a piece of her heart; each of them somehow had it all. Like winning at Scrabble or losing at Battle, she made the miraculous seem utterly natural.

Betty was a woman of her generation, a child of the Depression who came of age in World War Two. She saw Houston and America change, and herself change as well. She was born in Houston’s Saint Joseph’s Hospital and lived virtually her entire life in Harris County, but in her heart she was a citizen of the world. She grew up in the heart of Montrose, went to Lamar High School and Rice University when both were segregated, spent most of her life as an Eisenhower Republican, was over-joyed when an African-American was elected president, and with her second husband Jess unexpectedly wound up driving in the Gay Pride Parade through her old neighborhood (long story).

In her deep and personal faith she lived by the Biblical admonition to love thy neighbor as thyself. To her everyone was a child of God. She was the least judgmental human being any of us ever knew; she was attuned to others far more than to herself; her soul spilled out and took others in.

Betty Bills entered Rice Institute in September of 1941. She was 16. In 1943 a dashing transfer student came to Rice as part of the Navy V12 program. His name was Bill Broyles, but everyone called him Tex. They had a whirlwind romance, including wartime dances at Sylvan Beach and the roof of the Rice Hotel, and then got married before he went off to the Pacific. She graduated with a degree in English in 1944, and a few months later their son Bill Jr. (Little Bill) was born. They were both 19, but the war made you grow up fast.

After the war they moved in with her parents in Montrose while Big Bill finished Rice. When he graduated with a degree in Civil Engineering in 1948 Betty dressed Little Bill in a Rice Class of 1966 T-shirt—showing the power of her positive thinking (that is exactly when he graduated from Rice). Big Bill was offered jobs in San Diego, Denver and nearby Baytown. They went to Baytown where they moved into a hastily built, un-air-conditioned rent house with an oil pump-jack in the backyard. They had a gift for friendship, and their friends were war veteran families whose husbands kept their war memories buried. It was a close, cosmopolitan bunch, dedicated to having the good times they had postponed during the long years of Depression and War.

In 1948 their daughter Betsy was born. A few years later Big Bill left Humble and started his own engineering company, Broyles and Associates. Betty was “the Associates” and their office was in the back of a Baytown Barbershop. Broyles and Associates eventually became part of Pace Consultants and Engineers, eventually merging with Jacobs Engineering.

She and Big Bill moved to Houston in the early 1970s, but they maintained their Baytown friendships throughout their life together. She volunteered at The Bluebirds, rising through the years to become its President and to serve on the board of Methodist Hospital. She loved being near Rice (her home was packed with Owls of every variety) and cheered the Astros from behind the home dugout. She traveled East to visit Betsy at Wellesley and Harvard, and even farther East to visit Little Bill at Oxford. They waited out Little Bill’s service in Viet Nam in a cabin on Lake Livingston without a phone.

When Little Bill became the founding editor of Texas Monthly in 1972, Betty became its godmother. Some of its early writers remained her life-long friends. She always believed her children could do anything they set their minds to. When Betsy was nominated for an Academy Award, she was proud but not surprised; when later Little Bill was also nominated for one, she had the same reaction.

When her first grandchildren, David and Susannah, were born, she and Big Bill made a vow to visit them once a month, wherever they were. When Ben and Jake were born, they did the same. When Big Bill died in 1996, she dedicated herself even more to her grandchildren. Each of them remembers her reading them to sleep, although sometimes she fell asleep before they did. Her love of reading inspired them all, as did her sly sense of humor and her kindness. When the youngest grandkids came to visit, they were so excited to see her they would scream “Grammy! Grammy!” and claw their way out of the car. Those screams became inconsolable on parting, and often continued halfway home to Austin.

For each of her grandchildren’s birthdays she would recap their lives in epic poems composed in couplets or interlocking 3-line stanzas, and sing them to the tune of American standards or show tunes, which she knew by heart. Christmas gift cards were poems and riddles. Birthday presents were scavenger hunts with enigmatic clues.
Thirteen years ago she met her second husband, Jesse Pettey, a published author, a jazz musician who won the Distinguished Flying Cross in World War Two, and a lively, loving soul. They had a late in life romance that delighted her whole family. Jess got her exercising, he took her to the opera and on trips to Alaska and Europe, he got her cheering the Astros again. They came to the ranch in Wyoming and played cowboy with their grandkids and helped make homemade ice cream and watched the sun set over the mountains. They had a lovely life together that was a gift to each other and to her whole family. For the last few years Jess became her caretaker, loving her selflessly and totally.

She is survived by Bill Jr. and his wife Andrea, Betsy Breier and her husband Josh; her grandchildren David Broyles and his wife Kate, Ben Breier and his wife Yena, Jake Breier and his wife Austin, and Susannah, Katie, James and Bettina Broyles; and three priceless great-granddaughters: Spike Rose Summerfield Breier, Cecilia Louise Breier, and Claire Emaline Broyles. Also surviving are her second husband Jesse Pettey and his children Lana Pettey, Janet Pettey Caneen and her husband Jeff, Carrie Pettey Gamble, and Mike Pettey; his grandchildren Cory Wightman, Dylan Small, Sasha Gamble and Emma and Madison Caneen; and four great-grandchildren. She outlived all her other relatives, and we all only wish we had had more time with her.
The North Star has fallen out of our family sky. But there are pieces of her in all of us, and she will still show us the way.

A Memorial Service will be held Friday September 22 at 11 AM in the Saint Luke’s Methodist Church Chapel on Westheimer. A burial service will be held at Oakwood Cemetery in Austin on Saturday September 23 at 11 AM. In lieu of flowers please donate to the Blue Bird Circle, the William and Elizabeth Broyles Scholarship at Rice University, or Center for Houston's Future.

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