Richard Rutledge 87, Folsom
On Wednesday evenings in retirement, Richard “Dick” Rutledge would put on a bright purple dress shirt, a f loral- print tie, white jeans and cowboy boots. With his wife, Norma, who wore a f lared skirt that matched his tie, he was off to their weekly square dancing class, “Skirts and Flirts.”
In more ways than one, Rutledge and his wife were the perfect match. While their children remember their mother as the energetic, strict one in the house, Rutledge was the calm, steady presence who kept the family in balance.
“He kept us centered; he never got f lustered,” his eldest son, Bill, remembered. “Everything was under control when he was around.”
When Norma died five years ago, Rutledge moved from their San Leandro home, eventually landing at Oakmont Senior Living in Folsom, where he contracted COVID- 19.
In mid- April, after the first case erupted at the home, almost all residents were tested. Rutledge, along with 17 other residents and three staff members, tested positive.
Two weeks went by without any symptoms, but suddenly his fever spiked and his breathing became troubled.
“It happened very quickly,” Bill said. “He just crashed.”
Rutledge died on May 6 at the nursing home with a hospice nurse by his side. His family said their farewells the night before, through the window by his bed.
The 87- year- old was a rare thirdgeneration San Franciscan, born into a small home in the Noe Valley district, and remained a Bay Area resident for most of his life.
He attended Notre Dame University and went on to serve five years as a lieutenant in the U. S. Air Force Reserve, after which he went back to school at UC Berkeley to earn an MBA.
But soon after, with the early realization that computers would be the wave of the future, he enrolled at Holy Names College in Oakland to study math and computer science, and then began his long career as a computer systems analyst for various companies.
His career, while successful, was more about pragmatism than passion. More than anything, he saw it as a reliable way to support his family, Bill said. His children describe him as the ultimate family man, and a real people person.
“It sounds cheap to say, but it’s true: Everyone liked him,” Bill recalled.
Bill remembered a story that captures his father’s charm: Rutledge and his wife first met on a blind date in 1960. When he asked her, “Do you like chicken?” Norma said she did. Offering his arm, Rutledge said, “Grab a wing.” A month later, they were engaged.
Survivors include his six children, Bill, Mary, Joyce, Robert, Stephen and Susan; and eight grandchildren.