Dorothy Vernon Ruxton (Wight, Mitchell) died in the early morning of June 29, 2019.

She was a rebel. A fighter.

Most of her family called her "Gran". Whether by birth or marriage, they all came to love, honor, and respect this amazing woman. But Dorothy Vernon Ruxton's life was almost over before it began. Born in New York City on January 11, 1933 – a twin with sister Cass – she weighed only 1lb., 8 oz. So her very first act of defiance was to refuse to die at birth. She spent her early years in England before the war in Europe drove the family back to New York in 1940. She studied at Miss Porter's School, then Skidmore College, and eventually attained a Master's Degree in Psychology from Columbia University.

Fresh out of college, she married Charles Albert Wight, Jr. with whom she ultimately had five children. In an era of great change in civil rights, Dorothy and Charlie persistently demonstrated such inclusiveness that their children had a difficult time understanding the chaos of that time. When the family went camping, children from New York's Fresh Air Fund often joined them. Dorothy would explain that the children didn't have a chance to be in the country and "wasn't it nice to have them with us?" She also went to the inner city to teach basic cooking and sewing classes to girls there. When her marriage to Charlie ended, she faced single motherhood with the same courage that characterized other parts of her life.

Stories were a key part of Dorothy's gift. Her children grew up listening to the exploits of a small gang of bears she invented. Bedtime frequently included a new episode in the lives of Ink, Pink, and Blink (and later Tiddleywink and Mushmouse) as they got into some minor mischief. She raised children of her own for 29 years (counting child-rearing from birth to age 18 - though you should really count more). She was a grandmother for the last 40 years of her life and a great grandmother for the last 11. "Gran" suited her well. She was generous with her love, ferocious with her protection, and copious with her support. Many a time she faced some impediment to her family's progress with courage, tenacity, respect - and creativity. As her family grew through marriage and births, her love and support grew right along with it.

Her grandchildren delighted when she would misbehave in innocuous ways—like when an errant straw wrapper missile hit the man in the next booth. They also knew that if they read lots of books, there would be some kind of reward, like trips to the zoo and Gatorland. She loved taking a cuddly stuffed friend along on an adventure, photographing the experience for a custom book that she'd then present to a grandchild.

Dorothy's devotion extended to many, many more children, though. She continually encouraged children who learned differently, children whom The System had disregarded and, in some cases, discarded, and found new ways to teach them so they could come up to grade level and succeed in school. When, after years of teaching and administrative roles in special needs schools (Leary School in Virginia and Gables Academy in Florida), she opened Wightwood – her own school – she described it for the Orlando Sentinel as "Intervention Education." "Most of these kids have been put down and told you can't, you're dumb, you can't make it and it sort of becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy," she said. "We make them into winners and return them to the public schools, depending on what their parents' wishes are."

And yet her commitment to education and literacy extended beyond children – after "retirement" she volunteered at Orlando's Adult Literacy League, where Executive Director Gina Berko Solomon remembers her fondly. After six years as a volunteer, she joined the staff there for a time. She continued teaching others to read even as her own ability to speak began to succumb to the ravages of Multiple Sclerosis.

From her mid-twenties onward, MS was a factor in her life. Initially counseled by her physicians to avoid stress, fatigue, and pregnancy, she countered her doctors by teaching special needs children, engaging in rigorous exercise, and having three more children. Sometimes, medical professionals who thought they were out of earshot would say something indelicate like, "She'll never walk again." Her consistent response was, "Oh yeah?
Watch me!" She refused a wheelchair long past the time when it would have been more convenient for her. By the end, MS had claimed her voice, her mobility, and her ability to swallow food, but it never claimed her spirit. Her visitors would still be treated to a playful tap with her "scepter" (an old chair leg she would rap on a bowl to call for assistance), or to having their hand held tightly as they made their departure, extending the visit until Gran was ready, and not before.

She loved and honored her mother, Ruth Ledyard Turner, even when she disagreed with her. She taught her children about the accomplishments of her father, William Vernon Chickering Ruxton – a business leader and founder of the British-American Ambulance Corps during WWII (for which he was awarded the O.B.E.) – and the thoughtful eccentricities of the step-father she adored, Theodore Turner. She passed along to her own family a sense of love and acceptance for her parents, while simultaneously choosing to decline the trappings of their lifestyle.

In 1994, Dorothy opened the circle of her love to a new family. Her marriage to Clyde Austin Mitchell began a new chapter in her life and engaged a whole new group of "children", grandchildren, and, ultimately, great-grandchildren. Yet her love was not divided, but rather multiplied. And as she grew to know and love them, so did their love and respect for her grow. As her condition rose and fell, her new daughters joined with her to keep up the fight against MS, caring for her and loving her lavishly.

In her last act of defiance of this disease that had challenged her for so long, Dorothy directed that some of her key organs should be donated for research, in hopes that researchers could gain additional insight into how to defeat it. Moments after her passing in the early morning of June 29, 2019, Ruth said, "She looked MS in the eye..." and before she could finish, Sarah replied, "...and spit!" Take that , MS!

Her family lives to carry on her legacy: five children with Charlie (Chuck, Ruth, Bill, John, and Sarah) and Clyde and five of his six daughters (Virginia, Angel, Delannie Annette, Deborah, Sara Faye). Angela Kaye Mitchell preceded her in death. Among them, they account for Dorothy's 38 grandchildren and 34 great-grandchildren.

A public celebration of Dorothy's life will begin at 2:00pm on Saturday, July 20, 2019 in the Clubhouse at Mead Botanical Gardens, 1300 S. Denning Dr., Winter Park, FL 32789.
All are welcome. The Clubhouse is located at the far end of the parking lot, next to the Little Amphitheater.

Do you want to be a fighter? To honor Dorothy in her passing? You can join Gran's fight for literacy – or against MS! In lieu of flowers, please consider a donation to:
● The Race to Erase MS — https://www.erasems.org/contribute/
● The Adult Literacy League — https://www.adultliteracyleague.org/support/
● The Brain Donor Project — https://braindonorproject.org/give/