Wilmot Lee Rodman

Wilmot Lee Rodman, born 1913 in San Francisco, at a very early age, steamed off to old Hawaii with parents, Harold and Dorothy, to the village of He'eia, where his father was building a new radio station. Tranquil life in Hawaii was a delight for the growing boy. In two years he was joined by baby sister, Ilani.

The first World War took Harold to Siberia for radio work, and young "Billie" came to California with Dorothy and Ilani. When Harold returned from Vladivostok, the family moved to San Diego.

1924 brought the birth of brother Robert, now a recipient of the Purple Heart, who would himself grow to raise a fine family following World War II, only after enduring naval battles in all five major theaters of the Pacific.

As Harold's work moved every few years to build radio stations, Bill attended various California public schools in Bolinas, Venice, Palo Alto, Los Angeles, and Oakland. As a boy he was already becoming an engineer. During the 1920s in Venice, he built up and sold neighborhood kids early skateboards.

He proved to be a brilliant student, an academic prodigy who was tracked from elementary through high school by the originator of the Stanford-Binet IQ test, education researcher Lewis Terman. Bill graduated from UC Berkeley,1936, with a Bachelor of Science degree in Mechanical Engineering. He came to work for Douglas Aircraft in Santa Monica.

He serendipitously encountered Vedanta, after attending Santa Monica's Miles Playhouse for an Indian dance recital, where he first saw his future wife, Leelabati, whose nickname was Ranu. He was incidentally invited up to Ananda Ashrama.

One day, weeks after, he found himself out motoring around the countryside in his Auburn Cord, when he recognized "Pennsylvania Avenue," the name of the steep dirt road he was climbing. In the shrine, he felt oddly as though a dream long before had foretold of the sacred place. He discovered Ashrama and the Temple of the Universal Spirit that day, and a new chapter of life began.

The war led Bill to relocate often for his engineering design work. Bill and Ranu were living in Coral Gables, Florida, when their first child, David, was born. The young family followed Bill's career, living in Boston and New York City, birthplace of their second son, Donald. In 1951 daughter Amita, and in 1956 brother Douglas were born. Each of the children showed gentleness and wisdom far beyond their years.

Bill met Swami Paramananda and many of the pioneer sisters of the Vedanta community, both at Ananda Ashrama in La Crescenta, and the Boston Vedanta Center at 420 Beacon Street. He said Swami had a good strong speaking voice, and in some dreamlike way had a cleanness that reminded him of his father.

He heard a long teaching given by Sister Devamata once, of which he later admitted he could not understand one word. Swami's beautiful poem, Desert Night, became profoundly meaningful throughout Bill's life, after he heard it recited during a temple talk on that very topic given by Sister Daya.

Amita's, and Douglas', (or Purna's) teaching and singing from the platform would one day make Bill glow with admiration. With pleasure he heard them continue the wisdom tradition that Swami had passed along to us, and the great teacher who followed, their aunt whom Bill respected so highly, the beloved Sri Mata Gayatri Devi.

Inspiration that these mild teachers provided may have helped sustain Bill Rodman through tragic loss, first a newborn son; then, in 1975, his son Donald; and again last October 2011, his son David. Even so, Bill stayed resilient, cheerful and courageous throughout these tragedies, and many other upheavals.

Bill and Ranu loved each other in a turbulent passion that overflowed. New relationships developed over time.

During a blizzard in 1947, a young woman named Francine arrived at the Boston Vedanta Center. There she was introduced by Grace Kanamoto to Bill and his family, and helped to look after the two little boys, David and Donald. Bill insisted that Frankie attend college, and helped her get into Columbia University.

It was about that time that Bill also offered continuous support for college expenses of a struggling young black woman named Pauli Murray, at the suggestion of an acquaintance from the Vedanta community, a Mrs. Overholt. With his help, Dr. Pauli Murray, namesake of Bill's second daughter, grew to become a prominent civil rights and social justice advocate, the first black woman Attorney General of California, a founder of the National Organization of Women, and was ordained in Washington's National Cathedral as the first woman Episcopal priest.

In 1957, Bill married Frankie and took residence in West Los Angeles, where he taught courses in engineering at the urgent recommendation of UCLA's Dean Boelter. His sophisticated technical work was beyond the comprehension of most people, but his expertise and innovation can't be overstated.

Bill and Frankie had two children, Alan and Paula. They developed a deep respect for the aims of Vedanta, and a fascination with the wisdom of the East. They resided in West Los Angeles and Santa Monica for many years, enjoying the nearby university, libraries, wild mountains, and fine beaches.

Bill had many adventures with flying and soaring clubs, loved inventing and refining designs, and later worked in aerospace systems engineering and thermal analysis as an elite consultant, for all of 50 years. He was initiated, in 1959, into Transcendental Meditation by Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, sitting with him many times in practice throughout the 1960s, along with a dozen early students, deep in silence.

In his later years, he attended Santa Monica's Emeritus College, enjoying excellent lectures, galleries, and theater, as well as autobiographical writing classes, many led by remarkable teacher Mary Jane Roberts, which would soon provide a basis for his posthumously published story anthology, Hundred. These were written throughout the last of his 99 years and nine months, despite severe vision loss, to share with his beloved grandchildren, Daniel, Nicole, Michael, and Mari, along with his great-grandchildren, Thomas, Konrad, Daniel, Elyse, Alexis, and George and Diane, an extended family, whom he loved absolutely.

He and Frankie were led by great-granddaughter Alexis to volunteer help all through their last years, at Culver City's Star EcoStation, giving gentle care to rescued exotic birds.

Gently also, 97 year old Bill took care of Frankie during her final year, providing her with the peace of passing her last weeks in her own home. Together they continued attending the writing class until a mere ten days before the end. His devotion and patience made easier the late chapter of her life.

After Frankie's death in 2010, Bill lived at his home, in the company of his son, Alan, for two more years, still writing and going to classes. Bill and Alan continued to visit the birds at the EcoStation, take long hikes in the hills, laugh loudly, and play with great grandchildren.

He loved to play the drum, and he also played violin, mandolin, piano and saxophone. He was the only "non-musician" to join a master class taught at UCLA by Ravi Shankar, and held a deep appreciation of the devotion expressed in Indian classical music.

He also had deep insight into principles expressed in the Bhagavad Gita, the Song of God. Most specifically, he would remind all his listeners that well being and growth may be found by simply being happy as oneself, beyond all conditions that may arise.

Like all good engineers, he loved an elegant solution. Bill Rodman knew a thing or two about life: he always grinned as he reminded us,