Georgette Dempster

Georgette Michelle Franz Dempster died on July 9, 2025 at her home in Sanford, NC, at the age of 77. She is survived by her loving sons Josef G. Dempster of Sanford, NC, and Thomas J. Dempster (Kara Gunter) of Hot Springs, AR, and her devoted husband and deepest, dearest friend Paul G. Dempster, of Sanford, NC. She is also survived by her adopted granddaughter Hailey Chapman (Sanford, NC), her extended family in Wisconsin (great aunt Barbara Rankin and cousin Lori Utterback, both of Kenosha, WI) and Mississippi (half-brothers Rufus Dueitt and Dwight Dueitt of Clarksdale and Pascagoula, MS) and all of their family and descendants. Georgette, or "Gigi" as Paul nicknamed her, was preceded in death by her grandson Gabriel Thomas Dempster (Sanford, NC), her mother Isabella "Libby" Franz Krause (Kenosha, WI), her son Sean Connor (Kenosha WI), her son David James Dempster (Croswell, MI), her sister Marcia Swanson (Kenosha, WI), her grandmother, Maria Labasc Franz (Kenosha, WI), her uncle George J. Franz (Kenosha, WI), and her adopted uncle George Molinaro (Kenosha, WI).
Born May 1, 1948 in Kenosha, WI, Georgette graduated Salutatorian at Walter P. Reuther High School in Kenosha, WI in 1965 and enrolled in Gateway Technical College and later the University of Wisconsin-Parkside, and obtained a degree and licensure in nursing, a career she held until the late 1970s. On July 24, 1975, Georgette married Paul Dempster of Chicago, IL, and started a family, and after peregrinations throughout the country, settled in North Carolina where she worked as an accountant and librarian. She returned to school and obtained a Master's in Library Science from North Carolina Central University and worked for the Harnett County Public Library System for over 15 years as a branch manager and librarian before retiring.
Ever-faithful to her roots, Georgette worked in factories and in public service positions her entire life, was a union supporter, campaigned for Shirley Chisholm in 1972, and had absolutely no qualms about speaking truth to power. An avid Wizard of Oz fanatic, it was one of her yearly missions to watch the film on every major holiday, religious or secular, and to make sure we all did as well. A collector of Oz memorabilia, her appreciation of whatever figurines, ornaments, or trinkets bearing Dorothy or the Tin Woodsman knew no bounds, much to the chagrin of any empty shelf space. A science-fiction nerd in everything but name, no episode of Star Trek, Stargate, or even more-questionable series like Xena, Babylon 5, or others could go unwatched, with a healthy admiration for the skeptics and a skeptical appreciation of the true believers of the unknown. A consumer of all things ancient Egypt, she could pinpoint every inaccuracy in the Mummy franchise and could probably have had hours-long conversations with Zahi Hawass.
Somehow, she also knew all the callback lines for Rocky Horror Picture Show, drove muscle-cars in her 20s, including her prized 1968 Firebird with the top-end 400 cc motor, and knew the words to all of the Rolling Stones' albums up to Let it Bleed. A bragging right she made a point to tell us of frequently was how she skipped school in 1963 to see James Brown and the Famous Flames on their breakout tour. A devout reader, holiday shopping became almost impossible with her encyclopedic commitment to all things murder-mystery: not a hot new bestseller she had already read or a British procedural cop drama she already had seen. So thorough was her admiration for Arthur Conan Doyle and the mystery novel that the most recent family dog was named Sherlock. Despite the no-nonsense demeanor, her soft heart resulted in many pets – all dogs – welcomed into her home over the decades. Those pets, like her family, would occasionally wince from off-kilter, off-key singing that would ensue from time to time, but of course, that was the sweetest music any of us would ever hear. A frustrated yet talented artist, many a holiday or snow day was spent painting ceramics, drawing, or painting landscapes and portraits in addition to the near-endless crocheting, needlepoint, and knitting.
Despite some lean years and leaner budgets, Mom always made sure we had enough – enough to eat, enough to be grateful and thankful for, and enough support. She let us choose our own paths and take our own risks, and she would always have a net in her back pocket if any of our risks ever proved too great – and sometimes, they did. She was a wonderer and a thinker, spending hours on the back porch at night watching the stars and ruminating on life, the universe, and everything. She would frequently remind us that "Rome wasn't built in a day," and "things will get better." A Christmas fanatic, she would knock herself out every year she could to put on a feast of delirious proportions given the size of the family, and despite shooing us out of the kitchen, the batter-covered beaters and freshly-baked treats would somehow magically appear in our hands with her wry smile coming into focus. At our highest, she beamed with pride and joy; at our lowest, she stood in quiet support with no judgment and only love. At the time of her death, she was busily and happily planning a celebration of her and Paul's Fiftieth Wedding Anniversary and a vow renewal, something, deeply sadly, she would miss by only a few weeks.
She will live on forever in our memories and in our hearts.