Obituary of Giulia Del Priore

Julie was born August 8, 1943 in San Francisco to Donato Del Priore and Loretta (Cometto) Del Priore; her parents having met in North Beach at the Fior D’Italia restaurant. Though Julie was one of seventeen children (a number that includes older half-siblings and those who did not survive infancy) she essentially spent her formative years as the fourth oldest of nine. Even at a relatively tender age, she was made the family housekeeper and also had the responsibility of helping tend to her five younger siblings (Michael, Josephine, Mateo, Mary, and Margaret). Julie’s mother was a streetwise but upbeat blonde with fair skin who had trained as an opera singer. Her father had dark hair, olive skin and was a member of an unusually high number of different labor unions. “Papa” was a particularly gifted steel worker, blacksmith and was known for his proficiency with knives. He was also the butcher and cook for the large family. Over the homemade wine and homemade bread he would serve his children with their meals, would often regale them about the times he (apparently) crossed paths with Benito Mussolini, Al Capone and was well familiar with a young ragazzo he bossed around his old SF neighborhood by the name of Joe DiMaggio. Being that Julie’s father and all four of her grandparents had been born in Italy, the cultural influence of Italian design, architecture and cuisine had a heavy influence on her, particularly because Italian was the primary language spoken within the household. The Del Priores changed residences often in the 1940’s and 1950’s, with the Bernal Heights, Fillmore and Crocker-Amazon neighborhoods being the most prominent. Of the many teachers Julie crossed paths with, Sister Mary Gerald Leahy, a Catholic sister from St. Joseph’s parish, proved to be a particularly strong guiding force. The individual attention and wisdom she gave Julia was cherished and remembered. It was at the age of 7 that Julie experienced one of greatest thrills of her childhood. It was 1951 and legendary performer Josephine Baker had returned to the United States for a tour. The legendary performer was selling out the 4,651-seat Fox Theatre on Market Street. At one point during one of her shows, Baker plucked a young audience member to bring up onstage with her for a bit and Julie was that girl. In short order, both Baker and that huge audience were charmed and made to laugh uproariously by the plucky young ingénue. Additional escapism came in the form of visiting horse stables, browsing neighborhood jewelry shops and by attending movie palaces, where Jane Russell and Leslie Caron were among her favorite stars. The 1953 film Lily remained her favorite film throughout the entirety of her life. Julie’s childhood was hardscrabble but even though her mischief sometimes got her into serious trouble with the authorities, she almost always maintained her playful, sly and deeply resilient nature. Though she trained herself to be adorable, she was similarly built not to ever be taken advantage of. She was especially protective of her younger brother Michael. He was not only gay, but also relatively frail and had to repeatedly endure what one might charitably call 1950’s conversion therapy-Italian style. Though Julie did not remain close in life with many of her siblings or even with her parents, (preferring instead to be casually estranged from them), she was a very good sister to Michael, accepted him as he was and she was there for him at his end. She was also very fond of her youngest brother Mateo. The character of Rocky Balboa reminded her strongly of him, not only because Mateo was so strong and powerful, but also because he had such a kind and sweet nature, particularly with children and animals. As a kid, Mateo’s vocal chords had been crushed in a fight, making him hoarse for life and the subject of constant teasing, but one person for whom this didn’t matter at all to was Julie. She attended Luther Burbank Junior High and both Balboa and Lincoln High Schools, but it was her aspiration to become a fashion model that dominated her teenage years. Her slightly older sister, Gracie, shared the dream and was also blossoming into an unusually striking beauty. While the two sisters were both underage, they rented an apartment together on Van Ness Avenue and actively sought modeling work while passing themselves off as adults. In hindsight, this time one of Julie’s favorite periods of her life. Gracie was a caring and sweet older sister and the young girls complemented one another. As a model, raven-haired Gracie was precious, innocent and very reminiscent of a porcelain doll, which contrasted well with the auburn-haired Julie’s more feline, elitist and somewhat playful image. It was also during her teen years that Julie met perhaps her greatest mentor, Dr. Frederick Hong. A practicing dentist and prominent community leader in Chinatown, he took Julie under his wing and employed her at his dental practice. A former captain during World War 2 and practicing Buddhist, Doctor Hong shared his calm, wisdom and guidance freely. Their deep friendship and correspondence lasted for over 55 years until he passed in 2014. As a young teenager, or “teenybopper”, Julie came to live off and on under the foster care of Chris and Mary Conroy in the suburb of Burlingame; a tree-lined bedroom community about 15 miles south of the much foggier and grittier San Francisco neighborhoods that she no longer wanted any part of. Chris Conroy, an Irish immigrant, was a well-liked night manager at various hotels in San Francisco. He was particularly well known for his trustworthiness. His wife Mary, a Canadian immigrant of Scottish descent, was well known for her bellowing laugh, for her exceptional skills as a baker and for her philanthropy through both her local church and through an organization that assisted in the placement of foster children. Chris (a US Army corporal) and Mary had met later in life at a USO dance during World War II but their eventual marriage had produced no children. Numerous foster kids passed through their front doors, as did various nephews and nieces, but the one child that the Conroys took the greatest shine to, by far, was Julie. She became, for all intents and purposes, their daughter. Their influence and benevolence had a profound and lasting effect on her life and for a brief time, she even took the Conroy last name. Under the Conroy roof, Julie attended both Mercy High School in Burlingame, after she was expelled for disobedience, Mills High School in Millbrae. Through Mary Conroy, her interests in drawing, fashion, cooking and modeling were further encouraged whereas Chris introduced his knowledge on a great number of topics, including bookkeeping, landscaping, loving and caring for dogs and perhaps most importantly, how to expertly drive a car. Julie was a thirsty student, reveled in the attention the Conroy couple gave and excelled at everything they taught her. As Julie approached adulthood, some of her first jobs involved working as a makeup consultant at Lorraine’s Glamour Nook, and in doing clerical work for both an import/export company and for Consolidated Freightways. At the age of 19, while booking intermittent work as both a print and runway model, she frequented a coffee shop on the corner of Adeline Drive and El Camino Real. There, she would often select on the jukebox a Nat King Cole song (Ramblin’ Rose) while she would slowly and elegantly sip coffee and taking even slower hits on one of her Benson & Hedges cigarettes. This coffee shop sat adjacent to a tiny real estate office, where one of the sales agents couldn’t help but notice her whenever she entered or left. One day, he went in for a meal even though he wasn’t hungry, beat her to the jukebox and was the one instead to play her favorite Nat King Cole song. Their eyes met and that was that. His name was George Ritter and he became her first serious boyfriend. Over the whirlwind course of the next four years, they had a few formal dinner dates, an impulsive honeymoon in Hawaii that coincided with a business trip, two bouncing baby boys and a nasty divorce. George Ritter, eleven years her senior, had a similar fierce desire not to live out his life in the foggy and economically depressed area that he had grown up in. A former Navy man, he was rugged, handsome, brass tacks and when he needed to be, dapper. He was no doubt impressed by his young wife’s artistry in nearly every task she took on and charmed by her upper-class style. He even begrudgingly remarked years after the divorce how her driving skills were well superior to his own, particularly in rain and snow. George introduced his young wife to the world of real estate and constantly stressed what he knew about money management as well. But unlike her, he not only wanted to flee the streets of San Francisco, he also wanted to abandon its toney and materialistic suburbs as well. The ideal world he wished to eventually bring her to would involve hunting, fishing, photography and beautiful rustic scenery. A couple years into their marriage and right after the birth of their first son John, the young family moved from Burlingame to a modest rental cabin in beautiful South Lake Tahoe, CA. It was there that George worked sales jobs and where she brought in some money as both a runway model and a waitress at a coffee shop – both at Harvey’s Casino. She was even offered a position as a showgirl in Harrah’s production show across the street; an offer she graciously refused. But the marriage wasn’t working out. A few weeks after the birth of their second child (Christopher), on a normal Tuesday like any other, right after George had routinely driven the family Volkswagon off to work, she stealthily packed the two kids up without telling him, caught a bus out of town and never looked back. So, at the age of 23, Julie found herself alone with a toddler and an infant, no high school diploma and no car. Sage people looked at her situation and quickly wrote her and her two sons off, but little did they know that these challenges were not even close to being more than she could handle. While her babies slept under the Conroy roof at night, she immediately went to work at the graveyard shift at Ken’s House of Pancakes. Her days were spent, fueled by coffee and ambition, in both looking for additional jobs and in enrolling at the John Robert Powers Modeling School. There, the ladies of the era were not only taught the finest points of elegance, but also in how to exquisitely use silverware, how to properly smoke a cigarette, how to pour a man his drink and even in how to perfectly cut a man’s cigar. Though there was no male who could ever be her true alpha, she graduated from John Robert Powers with flying colors all the same. Being that her pregnancies had somehow done nothing to dent her figure, she went on to book a number of local San Francisco events and even once appeared in a national print ad that ran in Playboy magazine. On occasion, her natural lion-inspired auburn mane was replaced by a short-cropped blonde look. For a brief while, she was San Francisco’s answer to Twiggy (a noted international model of that era). The yen struck Julie to further her modeling career by moving to New York City, but with her two young children in the equation, she unselfishly never pulled the trigger on that dream. To put food on the table, from 1967-1972, she worked at Charlie Brown’s restaurant on Burlingame’s airport row serving upscale steaks and drinks to locals and tourists alike. At times, the male customers would cross the line with their flirtations. Other waitresses might act flattered whereas others might playfully scold the men, but Julie was different. She would coldly ignore their advances before “accidentally on purpose” spilling drinks on their laps. When they were especially egregious, she would spill hot coffee on them whether they had ordered it or not. The management never fired her. But despite her often workaholic hours, her two sons remained her top priority. She kept her vow to have them avoid the sort of impoverished childhood she had experienced. Her boys always had shoes that fit. They saw dentists regularly and money was even set aside so they could attend Catholic private school instead of the public option. They didn’t have a lot of toys, their weekly allowances were under a dollar and they rarely went to amusement parks, but in a sense she had given them something better in the forms of library cards along with the constant encouragement for them to go outdoors to make their own fun. Julie herself was taking community college classes to further improve her English, grammar and her overall “elements of style”. Her bookkeeping skills were now solid and her typing speed was nothing short of phenomenal. As such, she soon left behind waitressing to instead work for various companies that sold auto parts. For a while, she even worked at Daly City Honda, where she not only did the bookkeeping, but ended up learning how to drive a motorcycle. The owner of that shop, a man by the name of Bill Phillips, was so impressed by Julie that he ended up buying brand new Schwinn bicycles as Christmas presents for her boys, not once, but twice. He knew that she would always refuse presents meant for her, but that she couldn’t possibly refuse presents meant for her children. But bikes weren’t the only passion she and her two sons shared, for they all had a deep love for dogs as well. Laddie and then Copper and then Wimpy, Shadow, Alfie, Grizzly, Reno and Vendetta were all family over those many years at her house on Loma Vista Drive in Burlingame. Her two boys had a very charming mentor in Julie but she also ran a tight ship. Johnny and Chris were both trained out of diapers by eighteen months. By the time they were in second grade, they had both become independent latchkey kids who could do laundry, mow the lawn, fix the television antenna on the roof and completely cook their own meals. It is the rare mother who dare raise two boys in a house with white wall-to-wall carpets, but Julie was that person and their shoes were always left at the front door. She and her two boys were fixtures around Burlingame during the 1970’s, particularly whenever she tooled around town in her leather jacket and black 1971 Maverick Grabber muscle car. Youth baseball games at Washington Park, Mervyns department store, Primrose Bowl, the 16 Mile House, Woodlake Joe’s, the Hyatt House coffee shop and the shopping malls at Hillsdale, Tanforan and Serramonte were constant stops on their itinerary as were the many grand holiday dinners they enjoyed at the Conroy household. The trio also attended weekend mass at Our Lady of Angels church with great frequency. However, whenever Julie would grow bored or restless during the sermon, which was often, she knew that if she could surreptitiously pinch her youngest son hard enough, that his tears and loud crying would give her a socially acceptable excuse to exit mass early. Linda Hill, also living in Burlingame, was a great friend to Julie. Over the many decades, they shared countless times, cups of tea and happy memories. On occasion, they would attend shows at the Circle Star Theater in San Carlos, where favorite headliners like Tom Jones, Sonny and Cher, Johnny Carson, Neil Diamond and Frank Sinatra would perform. Julie’s favorite of them all was Englelbert Humperdink and she had the vinyl, cassettes and the 8-track tapes to prove it. Julie’s baby sister Margaret, now an adult, even came back into the picture and moved into Julie’s house during the late 1970’s. The two young boys enjoyed having their Aunt Maggie. Together, the quartet had a lot of fun, whether it was from seeing films like ““Saturday Night Fever” and “Grease” on opening night, or from visiting the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk. Many years later, Margaret ended up naming her only daughter “Juliana” in tribute to her beloved older sister. Nearly every weekday morning in the late 70’s and throughout the entirety of 1980’s, Julie frequented the Lyon’s coffee shop in Millbrae. Just as in her own home, this coffee shop had pictures up of lions everywhere, which not only matched up well with her mane of auburn hair, but with her astrological sign. Lyon’s was not unlike the bar on Cheers, except instead of beer and pretzels, it was cheap coffee, English muffins and the occasional Denver omelette that all the regulars would enjoy. Every waitress, cook and regular customer on that weekday morning shift knew Julie by name, and they all teased one another mercilessly about one thing or another. Though this restaurant space has now long since given way to a relatively bland Chipotle, back in the day, Julie was iconic there. She sat at that counter, always slightly overdressed, always with a stylish purse at her side and always wearing a fake wedding ring (so as to discourage admirers). In between elegant pulls on her cigarette and gentle sips of that mediocre coffee, Julie would take the onslaught of teasing and passive-aggressive comments from the others with glee and turn right around and give it back to them just as good as she had gotten. Often, she would mock complain about the slow service from Nina the waitress, who in response would have her roll her eyes, curse her in Spanish or simply pretend to spit in her food. It’s how the friendliest dishes are served. But that Lyon’s coffee crowd shared not only insults; they shared dreams as well. Julie was fond of telling anyone who would listen that she wished someone would open up a drive-through coffee shop where the coffee was actually good. She claimed that people would pay top dollar for such convenience. For years, the other regulars thought the idea was particularly ludicrous and relentlessly teased her about it, but, of course, it was Julie that had the last laugh. It was also there at Lyon’s that one of the other regulars told her of a job opening as a secretary at the labor halls up in San Francisco. It turned out to be fairly solid job lead because for close to fifteen years, Julie ended up commuting nearly every weekday up to a large building in the early morning shadow of the Bay Bridge. It was there that she became an instrumental part of “Marine Staff Officers”. She was not only a secretary, but eventually placed in charge of overseeing health and pension benefits on behalf of the various pursers in the Sailors Union of the Pacific (AFL-CIO). Within those many offices and floors of that large building, she was a welcomed and valuable presence. She became good friends with not only many of San Francisco’s top union officials and NFL player representatives (like Gene Upshaw), but with many of its top politicians of the era as well. The more powerful the person she crossed paths with, the more playful and sassy she would become. At least one California governor knew what it’s like to have his tie straightened and to be given brutally honest fashion tips by Julie Del Priore. Eventually, she entered into a long-term serious relationship with a very high-ranking union official that lasted for many years. Wanting to curb office-gossip, they kept their dating a secret from nearly everyone save for Julie’s immediate bosses. Her beau was meticulously well groomed and well dressed, but was also a man’s man. A cheerful tough Irishman, he loved taking Julie and her kids out to fancy dinners and he especially loved his visits at the Conroy household. Whenever she wanted to talk to him, all she had to do was ring once, hang up and he would call her back the first chance he got. Always the gentleman, this was his way of saving her money on her phone bill. He travelled back and forth to his other home in Los Angeles, with great frequency, but they always found time for one another whenever he was back at his base in the East Bay. After dating for well over five years, Julie somehow found out that he had been married the whole time. He was a liar and a cheat. Instead of being vengeful, or even slightly heartbroken, or outing him to his wife, she merely applied the brakes with no conversation and quit seeing him. She knew that this would be a sufficient hell for him to have to deal with, and if anything, the breakup gave her a deeper sense of satisfaction than had she stayed dating him, particularly because he had to see and hear what he was missing for years afterward at the building they both worked at. As much of a big shot as he was, and as bright as he may have been, he simply didn’t quite understand early enough that no man could ever be so powerful as to make Julie into a goomar. The last time her boys ever saw him, he had tears streaming down his face. Though most people at the Union Hall voted Democrat, a lot of the top brass, despite their public images, voted Republican. Julie was between both worlds and instead always voted for her favorite Presidential candidate regardless of party affiliation. From 1964-2004, she literally voted for every single winning Presidential candidate. Humorously, it can be said, that no one ever ascended to the Presidency during that time without first impressing Julie Del Priore. After a few years on the job, she was doing the administrative work of her two bosses (Steve Hospodar and Brandy Tynan) just as well as they could, even if her paycheck was never reflected in that manner. It was a fun office, and the three of them got along famously as a team, even if she didn’t drink even 5% as much as they did. But the sudden, premature and unexpected death of Steve one weekend was particularly jarring. Steve Hospodar had been like an older brother/best friend to her. He had a great knack for knowing how make her laugh, no matter what mood she was in. She had thought that the three of them would have many happy years ahead of them in that office together, but it was not to be. It seemed logical that Julie would be promoted to take over Steve’s position, but the job instead went to a man who had zero experience and it became Julie’s job to train him. This didn’t sit particularly well, but she remained working there for years and even found additional ways to be indispensable to other offices in the building. The early 1990’s brought other great transitions to her life. On the eve of turning 50, many of the administrative jobs at the union building in San Francisco were being phased away or priced down and she was among the casualties. Both Mary and Chris Conroy had passed away, the latter after spending nearly 11 months in a nursing home; a facility that Julie arranged for and visited with great frequency. Her black Maverick Grabber muscle car had long given way to an Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme and that in turn, had given way to a Cadillac Coupe de Ville. Her son John was often at sea in the merchant marine and her youngest son Christopher had moved away to Las Vegas. Her days were largely spent taking care of her 2-bedroom home, shopping, renting out and managing and fixing up the old Conroy house. Around this time, Julie became intrigued by a little feral tabby that roamed mean and wild in the county land just beyond her backyard. Perhaps she saw something in that untended, but adorable creature that reminded her of her younger self. Feeding the little kitty turned into trust, and before long, Julie had astonishingly managed to domesticate him and even named the pet Gucci. One of her favorite hangouts became Longden’s restaurant in Redwood Shores. She became one of the regulars and it was there that she first met her second husband, a slightly younger man who was an avid sportsman, golfer and hockey fan who liked to dress up like a cowboy. Together, they somewhat resembled the famous coupling of Ted Turner and Jane Fonda. After only a couple dates, they ran off to Reno to get hitched. It was on such short notice that only one of their five kids could manage to be in attendance. Her new husband then moved into her long-time home in Burlingame with his beloved Irish setter and they were all soon joined by a puppy named “Reno” (a ruby-colored King Charles Cavalier spaniel). Her glass display cases that featured crystalline animals and other ornate objects were now showcasing NHL hockey helmets as well. Her second husband’s father owned and ran a couple of successful businesses in Belmont—one of which was a machinist shop that specialized in custom-made gears. In short order, Julie was on the scene helping out in the office, offering suggestions and learning the ins and outs of that new world. If you were on the company’s account receivable list, you could not only rest assured that you were going to be hearing from her, but that you would probably soon be settling your account. Her elegant Cadillac gave way to a rugged Ford Explorer and her weekends began being spent in the mountainous community of Arnold a couple hours east of the Bay Area. Her husband had purchased a house in the forest and it was there that the couple became members of the local golf and country club. With zeal, she helped transform his mountain home into a exceptionally charmingly rustic locale with her furniture choices, arrangements and many accents. During this time of her life, Julie’s interests in interior decorating and cooking both intensified to the point that she began operating at a professional caliber. Her teenage skills as a sketch artist also morphed to where she found herself frequently sketching architectural blueprints as a pastime. As the 1990’s came to a close, she sold the old Conroy residence and began to travel a bit more and Cabo became one of her favorite destinations. During trips to Vegas to see her youngest son, (and to decorate his brand new condo with a Southwestern “Santa Fe” theme that she felt would suit him best) she began to take a serious look at the local real estate market for herself. In 2001, filled with design ideas, she oversaw the construction of a 3-bedroom home in Northwest Las Vegas that would especially pay tribute to her Italian roots. The bronze and crème interior was meticulously filled with beautiful European accents throughout. By 2002, her visits to rustic Arnold became less frequent in favor of lengthier visits to her new cypress-lined villa-themed home in Las Vegas. By 2003, after nearly ten years, her second marriage was coming to a close and much of 2004 was spent in dispute. However, 2005 saw a rebirth of sorts in the arrival of a little Maltese puppy that she proudly named Vendetta. But on the downside, she also experienced the first of many pulmonary episodes that would all necessitate ambulance rides and hospital stays. Though she was always tough and aloof, that first episode was an especially frightening close call for her children and they started to rearrange their lives accordingly to visit her more often. When she returned home from that first hospital stay, Julie began fearlessly living every year in earnest as though it would be her last. By 2007, after over 40 years in Burlingame at the same house, she sold it and made the call to live year round in Las Vegas. As her two boys helped her pack up everything in the old place, she told them that she wouldn’t ever be going back to the Bay Area, not even for a visit. True to her word, she never did. True to her nature, she didn’t even look back. She had already made friends in the Praire Rose community in the Centennial neighborhood of Las Vegas and even more were to follow. One such friend was Carol Combs, and together they made each other laugh constantly and had a lot of fun -- whether they were going to lunch, doing some light gambling or going on shopping excursions together. Carol even adopted a little Maltese of her own, “Gigi”, (Vendetta’s little sister). In retirement, Julie meticulously took care of her beloved dog, checked in with her two children on a nearly daily basis and aloofly fended off numerous flirtations and compliments from strangers decades younger than her. She also continued to redecorate her own home and gardens to even higher levels of elegance and style. Her Tuscan backyard, completed with cypress trees, fountain statuary, an apricot tree, rose bushes, and elegant patio furniture was a particular source of pride, particularly since it was on direct display to anyone who drove into the circular drive where she lived. 2010 saw her oldest son move to Las Vegas as well and she quickly got to work filling his home with numerous pieces to give it a look all its own. Combining Asian accents, leather furniture, antique Hawaiian bamboo, chrome appliances, sleek flat screens and San Francisco 49er memorabilia shouldn’t work together, but under her watchful eye, it became another one of her masterworks. With 2011 came an unfortunate mountain bicycling accident that left her oldest son with two broken wrists. The accident worried her sick, but it was at this time that Julie surprised herself, and somehow reversed the clock in order to find the stamina to help look after him. She found surprising amount of physical strength in spite of the pulmonary hypertension that was often sapping her of physical energy. It was yet another example of how a mother’s instinct to take care of her cubs is something never to be underestimated. Thanksgiving was especially busy one at her home that year. With the family chef’s arms in casts, it was instead Julie who pulled out all the stops as she cooked an extraordinarily delicious Thanksgiving for her 14 visitors. Her niece Dianasti Potes was there (with her family) as were the five Belahmiras and Carolyn Jevelian from Chicago. Allison, Chris and John, as well, will never forget that wonderful Thanksgiving gathering. As a cook, this several course meal became Julie’s culinary masterpiece and there is no doubt that both her father Donato and Mary Conroy would have been exceptionally proud of her exquisite work in the cucina that day. But when alone in the house, which she often preferred, Julie often enjoyed driving around the entirety of Las Vegas looking at its model homes . She also loved browsing at all the stores that sold furniture, home furnishings and plants. Nearly every month, she visited both Dillards and Nieman Marcus on the Las Vegas Strip. Although her favorite casino of all time was Desert Inn (a place where she enjoyed more than her share of good luck), in her later years she preferred the more convenient amenities of the Aliante, where she won more than her share at their slot machines, particularly on Tuesday, which was her lucky day to gamble. But in late May of 2016, Julie came home from errands not feeling well. Her last errand had been to get herself some coffee from the drive-thru window at Starbuck’s—an innovation that she was happy the world had finally caught up to. Once home, she asked her son to call an ambulance as she was too weak and uncomfortable to even be driven to the emergency room. After many tests, the doctors strongly advised her to get open-heart surgery to repair three different leaky valves. With steely resolve, she finally consented to have the major operation that she had long been avoiding. Her two boys became mainstays at the hospital, spending hours upon hours by her side. The night before her surgery, she was in high spirits and joking around with both them and her nurses. As coincidence would have it, her DNA analysis results that had been ordered for her back on Mother’s Day finally arrived. Julie was unpleasantly surprised (in a playful way) to learn that she wasn’t nearly as Italian as she had always believed herself to be. The test results indicated that as much as 21% of her ancestry actually derived from England. Her sons immediately told her that they would get to work on bringing in all sorts of British items into her home to help pay proper respect to her true heritage. It became the day’s running gag, with them continually asking her if she would like her crumpets cooked, where the Union Jack should be installed in the back yard, etc. Her 7-hour open-heart surgery was deemed successful despite complications that necessitated the surgeon to perform a deep hypothermic circulatory arrest on her. To everyone’s tremendous relief, she awoke with full motor function and immediately began showing both the toughness and playfulness that she had always lived her life with. Over the course of the next 26 days, she made slow incremental improvements almost daily. To the envy of some of the others on her floor, Johnny cooked some amazing seafood and steamed vegetable meals and brought them directly to her hospital room. Chris brought fresh smoothies, vegetable eggrolls, Italian custard filled donuts and whatever else she asked for. Other than a few essentials, the only item she requested be brought in to her from home was an old pretty picture of her deceased sister Gracie. She had it placed on the hospital room’s window sill where she could easily see it. Out of all the brothers and sisters she had grown up with, Julie had become the sole survivor. During her recuperation, her two boys and her daughter-in-law Allison lovingly catered to her. Allison in particular made sure the hospital administration and insurance companies didn’t make any mistakes and Chris made sure that the various nurses and doctors stayed completely on their toes to give Julie her due attention. On the eve of the day that Julie was scheduled to start rigorous physical therapy (the final hurdle that would allow her to be finally sent home from the hospital), she ended up having her best and strongest day since her surgery. Her speaking voice had even finally returned to the point that she was making calls on her cel phone instead of texting. But events took a unexpected turn and she had to be transferred to a nearby ICU unit. Even with this development, optimism still ran high. Less than an hour before she passed, her family remained confident that she would still eventually be coming home to convalesce. But it was not to be. Battling both an infection and cardiac issues, she slipped into unconsciousness that Monday morning. Despite valiant efforts to revive her. Julie passed away surrounded by love with her sons and daughter-in-law beside at 12:50 PM. Julie was also survived by her nephew David Burrill (Gracie’s son) and his wife Heather of North Carolina and her niece Dianasti Potes (Mateo’s daughter) of Washington, both of whom had often visited with her in Las Vegas, and who were among her favorite people to speak with on the phone. All told, Julie had 22 nieces and nephews, including Michael Harrington of South San Francisco (Mary’s son). In the final year of her life, she reconnected with Daniel Castrillo and Juliana Jaeger (Margaret’s two youngest children) as well. Cherished friends from the Bay Area who mourned her loss included Linda Hill, Gloria Howland and Anna Joyce as did her cherished nieces by marriage (Linda Ritter -Miner and Laurie Ritter-Maxtoutopoulis of Boise, ID and Susan Schmale of Redwood City). Julie especially loved children and in her final years, she doted on P.D. and Gaia Musselman whenever they came through Las Vegas for a visit and similarly loved meeting the two wonderful little boys of Roberto Armanino, who fondly reminded her of Roberto and his brother Richard when they were little bambinos. Dating back for decades, Julie donated to the St. Jude’s Children’s Research Hospital on a monthly basis; a worthy charity that will continue to receive funds in her name for years to come. Julie did not want a funeral, nor for a priest to be in attendance, but she ask for a modest ceremony at the site where she chose to be buried. Her remembrance at Palm Eastern was attended by numerous friends including Dina Albini, Carol Combs, Lorraine Khoury, Preston Lew & Judy Carole Wong, Zar and Nelicia Mansilla, “Amazing” Johnathan Szeles and Penny Wiggins. Gorgeous flowers also came in from the Belahmiras in Florida and from Carolyn Jevelian in Chicago as did kind words from family friends from all over the country. Per Julie’s request, Andrea Bocelli was played during her ceremony. The entire song list she requested was uploaded to her Facebook wall. Julie, beautiful in every way, gave so many more wonderful memories than can possibly be remembered. With her charm, wisdom, gifts and artistic designs, she made the world a far more beautiful place. Her love will remain with us forever.