Lynne Davidson Dyer

Lynne Davidson Dyer brought to her many life roles gaiety, sparkle, competence, passion, and commitment. Those who knew her as a friend, had her as a parent or a teacher, or loved her as a sister or wife or as their child, were in for fun and imagination and plenty of spontaneous experiences. She is remembered for her visible achievements as well as her contributions to how those around her experienced her vital spirit on a daily basis.

She was proud of her birth roots in a very small Ohio town, DeGraff. She grew up nearby in West Liberty and was deservedly part of West Liberty's reputation for small-town warmth and openness. Along with her parents, she also had an identity as a renegade, earned in part by holding dances in the basement where she surreptitiously taught her many friends from the Mennonite community to dance. Lynne was a high school cheerleader at a time when physical prowess was less standard than skill at rousing the crowd's enthusiasm through grand motions and traditional fight songs. Since she was also a singer, taking voice lessons and performing at church, school, and in many county and state competitions, there were many weekends during sports seasons when lemon juice was her diet of necessity as she struggled to recover her voice from cheerleading the night before.

At Miami University in Ohio, Lynne continued to bring her talent for leadership to many college opportunities. She was a cheerleader for all four years, an active member in her sorority, Pi Beta Phi, and she continued to perform musically. It was at Miami that Lynne met her life partner, George Dyer. As John Mitchell, a staff writer for a Ventura, California paper, wrote, "In the fall of 1956, George Dyer, a sophomore at Miami, sat in the football stands and watched as a beautiful cheerleader ran across the field, threw her arms around a man and kissed him. The unabashed display of affection sparked his interest. That's the girl I'm going to marry, he thought." The man on the field that day was Lynne's father who was there for Dad's Day at Miami.

Lynne launched her life in California soon after George and she married. Once in California, she began her teaching career, one which she combined with rearing her family, devoting nearly 20 years to very enthusiastic teaching at various levels of elementary and junior high schools. Her dedication led to long and late hours spent planning and grading, but most importantly, spent in inspiring her students. Her popularity and significance as a teacher were made apparent by the former students who came to honor her at her death, packing themselves into pews alongside many children from the school where she was teaching when she became ill.

Lynne's dedication to children and music came together well in her role as director of the children's choir at the Ventura Missionary Church. Her success there led to her formation in 1976 of a centennial celebration community children's choir, Make A Joyful Noise. Children never had to audition for one of Lynne's choirs because she believed any child's voice was musical independent of how a child's ability to carry a tune usually defines whether or not they get to participate in singing groups.

As a performer in community theater, Lynne's prize role among many was Maria Von Trapp in The Sound of Music. Her lyrical voice and her vibrancy brought her character to life, and her chemistry with the children of the cast carried the day.

As parent to Eric, Ian, Aaron, and Keira, she was full-time, no matter what else she was doing. Never content to fill her large home -- an older home designed with unique handcrafted renovation -- with only her children, she threw together many meals on the spur of the moment for whomever of her children's friends showed up. Working from behind the antique drugstore soda fountain, self-installed by George and her, she was not one to stay behind the scenes but rather engaged her kids' friends making a persuasive and always successful effort to invite them to be part of their family, including living there if their own family wasn't available in the best ways. If there was a celebration possible, she was game for creating it. You might find her taking a 10-minute nap break in the middle of the planning hubbub, right there on the floor where preparations were underway, or tucked onto the couch if there was room for her.  Refreshed by sleep, she would resume preparations wholeheartedly. Even when ill, when her family gathered to be around her on Halloween and someone pulled out an old trunk heaped with costumes accumulated over the years, she was the first to put one on. Who else would dare resist? 

She had an indefatigable spirit that enabled her to weather fairly constant financial stress and still make a great many things of importance happen. She never stopped rooting for others, most assuredly not her children. For each, there was at least one central sport -- basketball and volleyball chief among them. All of her kids were inspired by her musical gifts and her direct encouragement to make music a part of their lives, some as a profession, some as dilettantes, some as parents themselves fostering a love of music in their own children. Her descendants continue to sing with gusto.

Lynne's status as a person is what makes her a heroine. A certain irrepressibility of confidence inspired many, both friends and family, to believe in themselves and do what is right, and right for them. She volunteered counsel to many, always with the intent that more was possible than each was able to see. Her infectiousness carried the day with children and adults alike, and so not only did she offer hope, but always the supportive energy to help them do what must be done. She was guided by her Christian faith and however deeply she held her own beliefs, she respected the ways of others and drew people in with love only. She did not have to declare, impose or proselytize; her way of being was a magnet and her acts of faith spoke for themselves.

She was a personal and professional force, mighty really, and indeed, a heroine.