Betty Royer Franks was born at home on February 2, 1936, in Chicago, Illinois, and passed on May 1, 2026, in Kalamazoo, Michigan.

She is survived by her children Kent (Kristine) and Kathryn (Nick Haddad), and four grandchildren, Olivia and Theo Franks, and Helen and Owen Haddad. She is also survived by her older sister, Ellen Royer Moore. She is predeceased (by just five and a half months) by her husband of 67 years, Neal Edward Franks. She is also predeceased by her parents Blanche Puterbaugh Royer and Wilbur L. Royer, and her sister, Ruth Royer Wagoner LaPrad.

As a violist, Betty began her higher education in music at Manchester College, transferring to Northwestern University to finish with a degree in Physical Therapy. She worked as a hospital physical therapist supporting herself and Neal through his graduate work at The Ohio State University and then with their young son, Kent, through Neal’s post-doctoral research at the University of Iowa.

If one concept could sum up Betty’s contributions to humanity, it might be to say that she is one of Mr. Rogers’ “helpers,” from his well-known adage. Not only was her chosen profession one of helping, she quietly, but consistently, put herself in positions to serve the many communities she lived in over the years. A youth hospital volunteer in her early years, she expanded her repertoire in adulthood with the League of Women Voters, as a Cub Scout leader, and then Girl Scout Troop leader. She delivered Meals on Wheels for decades, eventually roping in Neal to help with the deliveries in their retirement.

She had a years-long volunteer stint with an Alzheimer’s day respite group, leading attendees in seasonally appropriate craft activities or cooking activities. She regularly crocheted and knitted infant blankets for mission boxes, sewed denim quilts for a men’s mission.

Betty was robustly involved in her church and women’s circle. If a funeral were held at church, she was on the crew providing lunch. Looking for more to add to their joint schedules in retirement, she recruited Neal to become a library volunteer with her. Then there was the fire station up the street—for close to twenty years, every Monday, she would bake and deliver cookies to the fire crew and EMTs on duty.

Betty didn’t rest on her laurels; if something needed doing, there was no time like the present. She didn’t help others for recognition or attention; it was just who she was. Family and frequent guests will always remember her delicious fruit pies, fresh blueberry muffins, and coffee cakes that embodied her giving spirit and gracious hospitality. Today we mourn that there is one less helper in the world.