Elizabeth M. McQuillan

1957 - 2025

Elizabeth (Beth) M. McQuillan
08/22/1957 - 12/02/2025
Elizabeth Marie McQuillan was born in Sacramento on August 22, 1957, to Doris Marion (Kohler) and Robert William McQuillan. She died peacefully in bed with a book at her side on December 2, 2025, at her home in San Francisco. She was 68.
Tall and lean, Beth was a natural athlete. She played volleyball and basketball at Bishop Manogue High School ('75) and was a high jumper on Will's Spikettes, a female amateur track team that went to the National Championship in 1973. She briefly attended Sacramento City College before transferring to UC Berkeley, where she graduated in 1979 with a degree in Comparative Literature. From there, it was on to law school at UC Hastings.
After passing the bar, she lived in San Francisco and practiced law, eventually working for the California Public Utilities Commission on energy cases. Beth was the lead attorney on a CPUC amicus brief that went before the US Supreme Court, and even though she had to sleep on a bunk bed in a Washington, D.C., hostel the night before the hearing, she was in the front row in a crisp suit the next day. When she turned 60, she retired from practice.
One night in the 1980s at a bar in the Marina District, she met fellow Cal grad David Herring, a tall handsome contractor and baseball nut. He walked her home, but somehow forgot to get her last name and phone number. He returned to the apartment building the next day and copied down every last name on the doorplate. One by one, he looked them up in the phone book, called, and got hung up on. Finally, Beth answered. They were married in 1988 at the Forest Hill Clubhouse, which was designed by Bernard Maybeck. They bought a home on a steep hill in Noe Valley, renovated it with their own hands, decorated it for Christmas with a silver-tipped fir filled with heirloom ornaments, and adopted the first of their beloved Tonkinese and Siamese cats. Beth planted a beautiful rose garden inside their white front gate.
Dave was handy, and Beth could match him, project for project. When they weren't doing chores in their own house, they were helping hapless friends fix cabinets or polish stainless steel hoods. They were dedicated baseball fans, with SF Giants season tickets in section 319 above home plate, surrounded by strangers who became close friends. They were there for the good years, including three World Series.
More than anything, Beth was a reader with excellent taste, and her recommendation list was in demand. If Beth read it, it was worthwhile. She also loved the arts and was a regular at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, the deYoung Museum, and the Art Institute of Chicago when she visited her sister Kathy. She and Dave travelled to Europe almost every year, visiting Sweden, England, Ireland, Spain, Italy, Germany, and France, and museums were always the first stops. But the Big Island of Hawaii was a special destination. After years of vacationing on the Kona Coast, they bought a fixer-upper inland and worked on it until Dave developed ALS and died too young in 2020. They both had dreamed of retiring there, a handle of rum in hand.
From her early days in Sacramento, Beth was chic and fashionable, although she would laugh at that since she didn't think her hometown was exactly the fashion capital of the world. She had a sly, dry sense of humor and saw the irony in everything, including sending photos of Dave reading the Chronicle Sporting Green on St. Patrick's Day with their Christmas tree still visible in the background. Her kitchen was perfectly appointed and flawlessly organized. Beth turned out incredible meals from her cookbook collection. The last trip she took was to Sicily for cooking classes and touring Greek ruins. Beth was fit and swam regularly at the JCC, practiced yoga, and walked everywhere, especially down to Noe Street Bakery to pick up raisin bread. At the time of her death, she was a 10-year ovarian cancer survivor.
Beth is survived by sisters Kathleen Harris of Chicago and Mary Ann Wedel of Mountain View; nieces Katy Guyon, Laura Amundson, and Amy Wedel; godson Erik Lewis; godson Stephen Irion; and Winston the cat. Lastly, Beth was a friend like no other. A confidante, a cheerleader, a fierce protector and advocate for those she was close to, she is missed every day.
A private service will be held in late April. Donations in Beth's name can be made to UCSF Ovarian and Gynecological Cancer Research (Fund B2702).