Elizabeth Galloway arrived in this world on September 23, 1949, in Worcester, Massachusetts.

“Betty” was born at a time when being blind and having cognitive disabilities would often result in being placed in one of the state schools designed to “protect” folks with disabilities from the cruelties of the outside world. Betty spent her childhood at Fernald State School and was coming of age when the revolution that changed the way individuals with disabilities were seen and treated was in its infancy and gaining traction.

Betty was 24 years old when she had the opportunity, some would say, fate, of moving to a stately Victorian home in Woburn with 7 other women with disabilities, under the care of Nexus, Inc., one of the first agencies born of the “deinstitutionalization” movement. This was Nexus’s first program, started and run by young idealists, which resulted in a seismic shift in young Betty’s life.

Betty remained in Nexus’s care for the remainder of her life, over the decades living with housemates that became family and being supported by staff who deeply recognized Betty’s gifts and helped her to express them.

And gifts she had!! Besides being a kind and caring person, Betty had a photographic memory and could play music by ear. She had a keyboard in her bedroom where she could work out the tunes she heard on the radio. Music was what animated Betty, and her range was prolific, from Lizzo to the entire soundtrack of Sound of Music with every era of rock and roll in between. She was often asked to play at special events. In honor of her capacities, a beloved Program Director gifted her with a beautiful upright piano which she played during Covid when she offered Zoom concerts to her friends at home and in other programs.

Betty’s acute capacity to hear and sense her environment allowed her to be quite capable in her life. She loved socializing with friends at dances, Bingo and the Saturday Drop-in Center that Nexus runs. She attended NuPath for decades and made friends for life there with individuals and staff alike. Betty rode her exercise bike almost daily as a way to feel better if she was feeling down.

Betty enjoyed spending time with her boyfriend, Robert, who she met at her earliest day program in the 1980’s. When he died, she visited his grave regularly.

In her final months, recovering from a serious back injury, Betty could be counted on to enjoy a cup of hot chocolate, a snack and conversation about her upcoming birthday party; the guest list, the menu and all the memories associated with a long, connected and engaged life.

Betty did not know she was a pioneer, but her life expressed the continuing evolution of affording full dignity to all people whose “disability” label contained multitudes of ability.

Visiting hours will be held at the Edward V. Sullivan Funeral Home on Friday, July 25 from noon to 1:30 p.m. and will conclude with a funeral services at the funeral home at 1:30 p.m.