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Betty Gayle Turner

December 20, 1950 ~ November 8, 2022

Betty Gayle Turner, 71, joined her heavenly father on November 8, 2022. Betty Gayle was born on December 20, 1950, to Julius and Edna Stewart. She resided in Westlake, Louisiana until she married her husband, James David Turner. They lived in Sulphur, LA where they raised their children and ran their business, Dave’s Auto Service.  

Betty Gayle was a unique individual and anyone who met her knew she was unforgettable. From the time she was a young girl and accepted the Lord Jesus as her savior, she dedicated her life to him and used the piano, organ, and singing as a form of worship. She played the piano and organ at many area churches including a long stint with Eastern Heights Baptist Church in Dequincy, LA. She is undoubtedly in the presence of God now and playing her heavenly piano.

Those left to cherish her memory are her daughter, Chalma Pittman; her son, Chad Turner, and wife, Allyson; her 3 grandchildren, Josh (Lisa) Vincent, Jillian (Justin) Hagan, and Kylen Turner; her 4 great grandchildren, Carson Vincent, Cooper Vincent, Ellie Mae Vincent, and Jax Hagan; and numerous nieces and nephews.

She is preceded in death by her husband, James David Turner; her brothers Norwood Stewart and Ralph Stewart; her sister, Judy Kelley; and her parents. 

Funeral services will be held on Saturday, November 12, 2022, at 2 PM at Johnson and Robison Funeral Home in Sulphur, LA. The family will receive family and friends on Friday, November 11, 2022, at Johnson and Robison Funeral Home from 4-8 PM and will resume visitation on Saturday from 11 AM until time of service.  Burial will follow at the Westlake Memorial Gardens Cemetery in Westlake, LA.

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  1. Ms. Betty you will be missed ma’am. You are up there with my mama and I know you are no longer in pain. Fly high angel 👼. 

  2. Aunt Betty was loved so much.  Her “shoot straight” style was her own and I personally will miss her company.  I loved to go listen to her play the piano and sing old gospel hymns, she never tired or told me no.   I’ll think of you,  with every Wendy’s chocolate shake I get!

  3. It must have been about 1964. I was a kid about 9 years old so Betty Gayle was about 14. She was pushing me back and forth in the swing that hung from the tree out beside Uncle Julius and Aunt Edna’s house on Loftin.  She says to me…..Selbyray what year do you think I’ll get married? I didn’t think about it very long and I blurted out 1988.  She was appalled that I guessed 1988. She said well Selbyray why would you say that? You don’t think I can meet someone before 1988? I’ll be an old woman by 1988. Then she started doing the math. We laughed about that many years afterwards. I didn’t know what 1988 meant. I was a nine year old kid that didn’t think much past tomorrow. I also didn’t take it as a serious question but looking back on it I think she asked it as a serious question. She really wanted to know what I thought. Betty Gayle and I had a lot of fun growing up. I dearly  loved my cousin! 

  4. I phoned Betty Gayle several times recently. The first call brought me back to the summers I spent with them in the old house near the “big” woods. She answered the phone. Her voice was weak but clear. “Hello,” she said. “Betty Gayle, this is Johnny,” I said. “Yes,” she replied, a question in her voice. She wasn’t sure who she was talking to. Betty Gayle never called me Johnny or John. To her I was always John Allen. Aside from my mother using that name when I was in trouble, and my beloved sister Rhonda Faye, only a few other childhood cousin playmates ever called me that after we were grown. I quickly clarified the situation by saying, “John Allen.” I could hear the smile of recognition come across her face and in the “Ohhh,” with which she replied. So, in every phone call that followed, I started with, “This is John Allen.” Like many things we share with those we love and have loved all our lives, it is little things like that which bind our relationship. They let us know who we are. John Allen seemed a special person coming from Betty Gayle.

    When I stayed with Betty Gayle in those summers, we often spent our day in the big woods at the ditch where we caught craw-fish on a strip of bacon tied to a string. The woods were just a narrow strip of pines, probably not fifty or sixty feet deep, and our fishing hole was the culvert at the corner, but it was a place of pleasure for us. She said she remembered those days, but neither of us could figure out what we did with the craw-fish.
    We also picked cantaloupe from their garden. Each call we talked about those weeks of summer that we spent together. She reminded me that we ate the cantaloupe in a room just off the kitchen where Uncle Julius conducted Bible study by reciting verse and asking us what part of the Bible it came from. I didn’t know the answers, but Betty Gayle knew them all. The other thing she loved nearly as much as her religion was playing the piano or organ. And of course for much of her life she combined those loves by playing the organ at church. It was one of her greatest pleasures and a great gift to others.

    As happens, we saw one another less often after marriage and kids. I loved the summers I spent there, and when I think of Westlake, Betty Gayle is always at the center of it.

    She told me the last time I talked with her that she was ready to go. She was unable to get around, and usually in pain. She said she wanted to see her Momma and Daddy. And so she is gone now. But like all of us, we live on in some respects in the memories of those we loved and who loved us.


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