Betty Ruth Hollingsworth Darby was an extraordinary woman in a most unpretentious package. Born in Atlanta in 1927 to Horace and Ruth Hollingsworth, Betty was gifted from the start with an abundance of get-up-and-go, a healthy bossy streak, and a total inability to be anything other than honest. She had no interest in being "fancy" or "high-falutin'", as she would put it, and was always completely, confidently, fully herself, and truthfully, herself was pretty darn fantastic. Growing up in Atlanta during the Depression, Betty learned the value of being resourceful and thrifty early on. She graduated in 1945 from Commercial High, remaining active in the alumni association until recent years. Never one to let the grass grow under her feet, Betty started work as a secretary at National Linen a week after graduation, taking pride in earning her own money and being able to contribute to the household. In 1951, she married Andrew Coleman Darby, and the two of them spent the next 16 years following his job, living in Michigan, Illinois, and Washington State. Coleman was diagnosed with a terminal brain disease after returning home to Georgia, and Betty lovingly and faithfully cared for him until his death in 1974. For Betty, family and friends were the center of her life, and her love was hands-on action. She was always ready to lend a hand, stopping by her nephew's after work to help put the kids to bed, driving her mother to the grocery store, and manning the cash box at neighborhood yard sales. She would spend hours working outside in her garden, and had a magic touch when it came to revitalizing grim-looking plants. She eagerly awaited the return of hummingbirds in the spring, and no matter how many times she saw one, she marveled at them every time. Betty excelled at leadership and organization, but she wasn't the type of person to avoid hard work or leave it to someone else. Instead, she rolled up her sleeves and got right in the middle of it, bringing order from chaos and making it look easy in the process. She never waited to be asked for help, but always looked for ways to come alongside others and lighten their loads. She watched out for neighbors, watered their flowers, collected mail for those on vacation, and looked after pets for busy working friends. A strong believer in civic participation, Betty volunteered as a poll worker and attended city council meetings until she was no longer physically able. "Aunt Betty" to three successive generations, her affection, support, and interest seemed bottomless. She made a point of coming to every recital, every softball game, every church musical, every graduation, and always with a tray or two of snacks for after. She sent goodie boxes to anxious campers and care packages to poor college students (always remembering the all-important quarters for laundry). Without hesitation or prejudice, she adopted the friends of each generation as honorary family members, and was just as interested and delighted by news of their lives and accomplishments. Everyone was interesting to her, and the way she engaged with folks made them feel seen and valued. Having celebrated her 95th birthday in August 2022, Betty had outlived her immediate family and most of her contemporaries, and the grief of missing loved ones weighed on her at times, but she still never stopped making new friends. After moving into assisted living, she designated herself the "security guard" for the main entrance, choosing a prime position to meet and greet anyone who came in, and keeping her fingers on the pulse of daily happenings. She found the world and the people around her eternally interesting and entertaining, which is not a bad way to live. The bedrock of Betty's life was simple faith and belief in an Almighty God whose doings she didn't always understand but trusted anyway. She often reminded us that "we're not in charge," sometimes followed by "and I wouldn't want to be either," though I suspect she often felt she could probably have organized things a little better. In tough times, she reminded us, "This too shall pass," and she was always right, which gives us reassurance that the sorrow we now feel for her absence will pass eventually as well, leaving only the comfort of deeply cherished memories of her constant warmth, kindness, and love. Betty was preceded in death by her husband, Andrew Coleman Darby; parents Horace and Ruth Hollingsworth; sister and brother-in-law Louise and Clarence Williams; sisters-in-law Mary Frances Jordan, Annice Smith, and Betty Pruett; brother-in-law Bud Pruett; and niece-in-law Merri Williams. She is survived by her nephew David Williams; great-nephews Matthew (Kati) Williams and Tim Williams; great-nieces Sara Williams, Rebekah Williams, and Faith (Jeff) Hortenstine; great-great-nephews Caleb, Andrew, Stephen, and Jacob Williams; great-great-niece Claire Hortenstine; and cousins. The family particularly wishes to thank Humera Savaja, Natascha Sherrod, and the entire staff of Yellow Brick House for their love for and outstanding care of Betty during her time at the facility. A graveside service will be held 2 o'clock Friday April 7, at Hillandale Memorial Park with Dr. Jim Martin officiating. Betty's family will receive friends Friday prior to the service from 12:30 to 1:30 at Henry Funeral Home, Lithonia. Memorial Contributions may be made in her memory to Disabled American Veterans, P.O. Box 14301, Cincinnati, Ohio 45250-0301