Betty Carr, mom behind Mom's Apple Pie in Sebastopol, dies at 95

For thousands of households in Sonoma County and perhaps beyond, it is hard to imagine a holiday meal over the past many decades without the pièce de résistance of a freshly baked Mom's Apple Pie for dessert.

Betty Carr was the mom behind those pies, creating apple, pecan, pumpkin and berry filling tucked into her legendary, peaked double crust, as well as cream and meringue pies for legions of followers devoted to her delicacies that are sold out of the Mom's Gravenstein Highway storefront.

"She became a bit of a celebrity in Sonoma County and we enjoyed that," her son, David Carr of Petaluma said. "And she enjoyed it, interacting with customers, talking with them … I think that was one of her greatest things, she loved the customers and she wanted them to be happy and pleased with their experience."

Betty Carr, the sweet mastermind behind Mom's pies, died May 13 surrounded by her family. She was 95.

"My mom always looked for the good in everybody, she had that about her," said John Carr of Valencia, Carr's youngest son. "I think that is what made people gravitate toward her. I was always amazed by that. I think that is a great way to go through life."

It may have seemed like it to her adoring fans, but Carr wasn't born to bake. She was born into a family steeped in Japanese tradition and was seemingly destined for a far different life than the one she created for herself.

Born on Feb. 18, 1931 in Nagoya, Japan, Michiko Kameshima was the eldest of Yukiko and Shinpei Kameshima's four children. Her paternal grandfather was of the last generation of Japanese Samurai.

"On her father's side of the family, it was a Samurai family. It goes back literally thousands of years," said David Carr. "The last true Samurai was her grandfather."

Carr was a young student when World War II was raging and she was sent to live in a small village, a fair distance from the family home in Nagoya.

"When it was in full swing she was in junior high," said Betty's eldest son, Harry Carr of Graton. "They suspended school and she and her friends worked in the Seiko factory, on timing devices, checking the threading on bombs."

When Carr saw bombs fall on Nagoya and fires burning, she walked alone – a distance that was likely an all-day trek – to check on her grandparents, Harry Carr said. That level of bravery and independence was a hallmark of Carr's personality, her sons said.

Carr was studying at Tsuda University when she expressed interest in following family tradition and studying medicine, but her father refused her desire to enroll in medical school. In lieu of that dream, he promised her anything else, Harry Carr said.

"My grandpa felt bad and said ‘You can do anything,'" he said.

She chose a one-way ticket to the United States. No arranged marriages, no formulaic life.

"He didn't want her to go, but he paid for her passage," he said.

Betty Carr gave up a privileged existence, with drivers and nannies and courtiers, in Japan for a life wholly unknown.

"When she came to the United States, she is exactly the opposite of that, she is working on a chicken ranch, cleaning the house, saying ‘No one is going to raise my kids. I'm going to raise my kids,'" David Carr said. "She said, ‘Nope, I want to pick my own life. I want to pick my religion. I want to pick my husband.' She was brave. She was very brave."

With a college degree in hand, Carr traveled alone in 1949 via freighter ship across the Pacific Ocean to the United States before making her way to Naperville, Ill. where she enrolled at North Central College to study home economics. It was there she learned some of the secrets of baking, and it was there that she was given the moniker of Betty.

"They started calling her Betty in Chicago," Harry Carr said.

Carr, a trained and accomplished singer, joined a church choir and traveled the country singing. One of those stops, in addition to performances at San Quentin and for staff at Alcatraz, was a church in San Anselmo where the choir would perform about once a month.

"My dad was widowed," Harry Carr said. "She was touring with the choir and every fourth Sunday they were at his church. He would wait the whole month to see her and finally he screwed up the courage to talk to her."

Betty and Harry Carr were married in 1960 and shortly thereafter moved north to a five-acre chicken ranch on Frei Road.

"I don't think that was on her bingo card," Harry Carr said, laughing.

But the two, so different on the surface, were a deeply loving match, Carr's sons said.

In 1969 the pair opened The Egg Basket, a small grocery and deli that sold eggs from the family's ranch.

In 1976, they opened Carr's Drive-In in Forestville and ran it for a few years. It continues today under the Carr name but under different ownership.

It was about 1980 that the Carrs bought the property on Gravenstein Highway where Mom's Apple Pie is today, Harry Carr said. First, they operated a fruit stand. It was from that endeavor that Betty Carr sold her first pie.

"Our house was surrounded by 500 acres of apples," David Carr said. "There were no grape vines. That was Napa Valley, that wasn't Sonoma."

So Betty Carr used seasonal Gravenstein apples grown steps from her home and went to work.

"She just baked a pie for grins, in a little teeny oven that could bake one pie," he said. "Next thing you know, she is baking four pies. Next thing you know we are buying new ovens."

But despite the growth, the "Mom's" operation remained decidedly old-school and very labor-intensive.

In the earliest days, Harry Carr Sr. would peel the apples using a hand crank. They eventually bought a peeling machine from one of the nearby apple processing plants that had gone out of business, David Carr said. But it, too, was an antique and only peeled four apples at a time.

The pair bought a mixer from a U.S. Navy ship. Before that? Betty Carr used an over-the-counter mixer one might find in any neighborhood kitchen.

Carr was known to make her way from her nearby home to arrive at the shop between 3 and 4 a.m. As she grew older, those hours loosened a bit but never her commitment to quality. She was known for meticulous attention to detail and insisted that every top crust on every pie was hand-rolled.

"There is a certain thing about the water moisture, you kind of have to feel it in the moment," David Carr said.

Her fruit was seasonal and sourced for quality, her sons said. The strawberry pies included nothing but strawberries and homemade whipped cream.

"The quality control – she was always the one checking and tasting the pies and she was really, really meticulous about making sure it was done right," John Carr said. "That was her baby so to speak. She was very passionate about it."

While Betty Carr worked side-by-side with bakers she hired, she also made a point – with all of the family businesses – to hire high school students and give them their first real job.

"She would get letters from these kids telling her how much it meant to them," David Carr said.

But apart from her dedication to her business and her customers' happiness, Betty Carr was a devoted mother. So legendary was her love for her kids – and her aversion to favoritism – that when she sang "You Are My Sunshine," she hummed over the line "…my only sunshine."

"Everybody would tease us about being mama's boys," David Carr said. "But she would tell me, ‘If I could just be with you guys, the three of you, and listening to you talk, I'd be happy.'"

Even her beloved husband knew the bond between mother and sons was not to be questioned.

"We were sitting around at dinner, it was Harry, Dave, myself and my mom and dad," John Carr said. "We asked, ‘Mom what would you do if a guy broke into the house right now and said, ‘You have to give me one of your sons or we take all three of them.' And she's all flustered and says ‘I don't know, I don't know,' then says, ‘I'd give them your father.' My dad looks up from his dinner and says, ‘I could have told you that.'"

In addition to her sons Harry of Graton, David of Petaluma and John of Los Angeles, and her siblings who all live in Nagoya, Japan, Betty Carr is survived by stepdaughter Donna Kenney of Gold Beach, Ore., four grandchildren, six step-grandchildren and three step great-grandchildren.

Services will be private.

Donations in Carr's name may be made to Hessel Church, 5060 Hessel Church Road, Sebastopol, Ca., 95472.

You can reach Staff Columnist Kerry Benefield at 707-526-8671 or kerry.benefield@pressdemocrat.com. On Instagram @kerry.benefield.

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