Jim Rood

PIEDMONT, Calif. — Jim Rood, 70, a resident of Piedmont, Calif., since 1976, passed away Monday, May 5, 2014, after living with prostate cancer for nearly 11 years.

In the spring 2003, Jim was diagnosed with a faulty heart valve, and shortly afterwards with prostate cancer. It seemed like a good time to retire, which he did. After being treated for more than 10 years by Dr. Ari Baron and his incredible staff, as well as the team at UCSF, Jim died quietly at home.

Born James Stephen Rood on Oct. 29, 1943, in Charleston, W.Va., he was the second son of the former Irene Lee, of Charleston, and Ernest Livingston Rood, of Gallipolis.

Livingston was off fighting the war in the South Pacific while Jim's mother was living in Gallipolis, raising Jim and his older brother Larry, with the help of the boys' grandmother, great-aunt and great-uncle. At the end of the war, the marriage was ended by divorce, with the boys remaining in Gallipolis to be raised by their mother, grandmother, great-aunt and great-uncle.

This is Jim's story in his own words:

"Gallipolis during the mid-century was, in many ways, an idyllic place to grow up. Perched on a bluff overlooking the Ohio River and surrounded by the Appalachian Mountains, the scenery was often staggeringly beautiful, as were its inhabitants, often open and generous in a manner simply not found today. Summers were spent water skiing and fishing on the knowingly polluted river, winters sleighing and otherwise terrorizing the other neighborhood children with snowballs.

"But all was not just a little slice of Harper Lee growing up at Grandmother's house. First was the matter of money, which seemed to appear magically and in quantity whenever needed, although no one worked or had any visible source of income. The family did own and operate a small grocery store, at which no one seemed to shop, but would, from time to time, disappear into the back regions to appear later with a paper bag, cash in hand, smile on face.

"Of course, I was far too young at the time to understand the nature of the little transactions. It was not until much later that I discovered that the family business was not what some otherwise upright citizens would have considered proper and which relied heavily on a system of signals from law enforcement officials that the feds were due any day to make one of their tedious raids. So, everyone was happy, not least the participants in the whole scheme.

"In the autumn of 1961 — after graduating from Gallia Academy in Gallipolis — I enrolled in what was to be seven years of education at Ohio State: four years of liberal arts, interrupted by a stint at the Sorbonne in Paris, and three years of law school. Of those years, the time spent at the Sorbonne was the best in all respects. If the time spent at OSU seemed hopelessly sophisticated following a childhood in Appalachia, the months spent in Paris were what such sojourns had always been meant to be: a wash of French sophistication applied to an otherwise willing apprentice.

"It was during the period following Europe that I became great friends with the Darnbrough family of Gallipolis. We had all known each other since childhood, of course, but it was then that our friendship developed into that of my second family. I spent every school holiday at their big, welcoming house, and their friends became my own.

"Law school was otherwise forgettable. Easy to enter in those days, my one good memory lasting to this day is that I met and became engaged to Lorie, who lived in the apartment next door. After an unforgettable courtship, we were married in the fall of 1969, followed by a honeymoon in Paris, which was like slipping back into a comfortable, yet glamorous pair of old shoes. We remained in Columbus for the next six months, then moved to San Francisco in April 1970. We moved west on a first-class train, perhaps one of the last ones of its type to operate west of the Mississippi.

"We both immediately got jobs — Lorie in a private school in the Avenues and I at Bancroft-Whitney Co., a legal publishing company in the city. Lorie remained in her job until shortly after Amy's birth, I for several years, when I resigned to work for the Wine Institute. While none of these jobs offered a lot in the matter of professional growth, they did yield solid and lasting friendships, many of which continue to this day.

"The four years spent living on Nob Hill across from the Mark Hopkins were, quite simply, four of the best ever by a newly-married couple. We spent evenings out for dinner, went to shows and concerts, as well as the inevitable weekends in Carmel and Tahoe. On July 7, 1974, Amy was born at Children's Hospital in San Francisco and we moved to two different apartments in the Richmond District. In 1976, we moved to Piedmont, where we remain today. On June 30, 1978, our son Jeff was born.

"In 1976, I resigned from the Wine Institute and joined the California Public Utilities Commission, where I remained until retirement in 2002. I also continued my 25-year career as an outside editor with Bancroft-Whitney until the same year. As with all my employment, the joy lay not with the work itself, but in the warm personal attachments made.

"One of the accomplishments of which I was most proud was as a member of the board of directors of Chanticleer, the world-renowned San Francisco Men's Singing Ensemble. But by far the biggest single accomplishment was watching my children, Amy and Jeff, grow athletically, academically and musically, thanks to their own talents and willingness to work."

Jim is survived by Lorie, his wife of 45 years; two children, Amy McKenzie and husband, Tom, of Piedmont, and Jeff and wife, Jackie, of Madison, Wis.; four grandchildren, Scottie and Nate McKenzie and Weston and Wylie Rood; brother Larry and his wife, Jean, of Fairfax. Va.; and several nieces and cousins.

A memorial service will be 11 a.m. Friday, May 23, 2014, at Piedmont Community Church, 400 Highland Ave., in Piedmont.

In lieu of flowers, the family requests that donations be made in Jim's name to Citizens Highly Interested in Music Education, which supports music, drama and dance in Piedmont. Make checks payable to CHIME, c/o Leslie Quantz, 107 Highland Ave., Piedmont, CA 94611.