By Dane Anderson and Eleni Himaras

Staff Writers

In a back room at Las Palomas restaurant last Thursday, seated amidst dozens of beaming faces, sat a small burst of energy known as Betty Wilson. Her retirement from the Westlake Picayune after 30 years was not going to go unnoticed.

Wilson is the kind of person that shapes the world into a friendlier, happier place. She does it quietly from day to day. She looks you right in the eyes when you talk to her, and she winces when you tell her about the bad parts of your day. She comes into your office, bent over in laughter to tell you about something ridiculous she just did. She makes you laugh until you fear for the safety of your dry underwear.

She never gives advice; instead she offers insight into how she’s struggled with similar issues and what she decided to do about them. She doesn’t mind telling you how her problems turned out if you ask her, even if they didn’t turn out well.

Wilson works longer and harder than anyone else, and she will drop what she is doing in a heartbeat to help you do something difficult. At 8 p.m. on a bad press night, she’ll share her hoard of saltines and peanut butter.

Anyone who’s come into contact with Wilson ever, for any reason, seems to have come out better for it. And they’re all happy to explain why.

“She’s taught me a lot; she’s taught a lot of us a lot about how to do things the right way,” former Picayune publisher Jason Jarrett said at Wilson’s party. “I can’t tell you how many times over the years she told me, ‘You know, we’ve got to do what’s right.”

Jarrett, born in a newsroom, the son of a longtime newspaperman, said Wilson was the only one who came close to rivaling the amount of life lessons taught to him by his father.

Always a burst of pure sunshine, Wilson told partygoers, comprised of the colleagues she worked with over the last 30 years, “It’s been an amazing ride. I’ve seen you get married, I’ve seen your children born and grow, and what beautiful children. I hope you guys have half the fun I’ve had, even a quarter of the fun I’ve had.”

“She’s just one of these inherently gracious people,” said Jann Phenix Brown, one of the original owners of the Picayune. “The whole time we worked together, I never remembered anyone ever getting mad at Betty… She’d give you the shirt off her back, literally.”

Former colleagues lined up to expound upon the lessons Wilson taught them, be it how to smile through a rough day or find out who to contact in the Westbank for, well, just about anything.

“When you come down to it, it’s really about the people. It’s about community,” said Rob Galarza, a former Picayune employee who went on to become an Austin-area lawyer. “I look at your career and it’s still an inspiration.”

While Wilson has held every position the Picayune has ever had to offer, she leaves us as the head of the advertising department. And as much as we will miss her, those lucky enough to be her clients will too.

“I have never had one phone call or one visit with Betty that didn’t end with me feeling better than I did before I talked to her,” said Cecil Senter, of Moreland Properties, a 12-year client of Wilson’s. “She is just one of those people who puts you in a good mood. She bends over backwards all the time to make me – well, to make everyone happy.”

MariCarmen Dale, owner of Las Palomas restaurant, and Carole Hughes, owner of Quality Frames and Art both said they couldn’t imagine looking back on Wilson simply as a business contact. She was their friend.

“I always thought I was Betty’s favorite client,” said Sheila Jagger, senior vice president of Treaty Oak Bank. “Heck, even though I knew better, I thought I might be her only client. That is how she made me feel. Betty kept tabs on me and seemed to always know what I was doing in the community. I recall bringing Betty a plant for Mother’s Day because she really did make me feel like I was a part of her family.”

Wilson’s daughter, Lisa, grew up at the Picayune, bringing along paper and crayons to her mom’s office and playing with the owners of close-by stores and staffers. She never felt neglected, despite her mom’s often long hours at the paper.

“My mom is just someone who always does more for other people than she does for herself,” she said. “She always goes the extra distance, goes out of her way, for all her friends and her family. She saves the day when you need her to. We all depend on her and love her for that.”

Whether they’ve known Wilson for 30 years, or 30 minutes, people know, indisputably, that, when they are dealing with Betty Wilson, they are dealing with one of those truly special people of the world.

While we will miss her constant presence and bottomless knowledge, we wish Betty Wilson all the best in her future endeavors and hope that, for the first time in three decades, she enjoys doing whatever she wants on Tuesday nights.