Debra Louise Hall (Collins)
July 6, 1955 – August 16, 2026
Debra Louise Hall, known to so many simply as Deb, and to her children, in one breathless word, as "mymom," passed away peacefully at her home in Waitsfield, Vermont, on August 16, 2026, at the age of 71, after a long battle with Progressive Supranuclear Palsy. Even as the disease took her voice and her strength, it never touched her warmth, her limitless knowledge, or her grace.
Deb was born on July 6, 1955, in Okinawa, Japan, where her father, Lt. Col. Guy F. Collins, was stationed with the US Air Force. Her mother was Barbara L. Collins (Hughes). As the only daughter among her siblings, Debbie was the apple of her father's eye, and he cherished her. He was killed young, at 39, while piloting a plane over Laos in March of 1968, during the Vietnam conflict, a loss Deb carried with her all her life. Years later, when her mother's own time came, Deb was by her side, helping her transition at Tidewell Hospice in Sarasota, Florida.
As an Air Force family, the Collinses moved often: Oklahoma, Florida, California, before finally settling in Alexandria, Virginia, in 1964. Some of Deb's fondest early memories came from those years, watching her older brothers try to catch armadillos, running wild through the orange groves at her grandparents' ranch in Florida, and watching the Mercury spacecraft launches at Cape Canaveral with her little brother, David. She taught her own children how to pick out a real juice orange, roll it in your palms, and drink it straight from the fruit.
After high school, Debbie followed her older brothers, Skip and Gary, to rural Virginia, where she and Gary opened a natural foods store together, Back to Basics; their younger brother David eventually joined them too. In one of the great adventures of her life, the four Collins siblings, joined by five close friends, outfitted an old 1956 school bus and drove it across the country and into Canada, Merry Pranksters style. It's still remembered as the trip of a lifetime.
In 1976, in Mount Clinton, Virginia, Deb's daughter Erin was born. A couple of years later, Deb brought Erin along on a visit to friends in Vermont and decided, on the spot, to plant her roots there. Not long after, she met her best friend, Dick Hall. The two spent a summer living in a teepee on Martha's Vineyard before returning to the Green Mountains and settling in the Mad River Valley for good.
Deb and Dick married in 1981, and welcomed their daughter Melanie that same year. After buying their home on Bridge Street in Waitsfield, their son Taylor arrived. All three of Deb's children were born at home, and years later, Deb would return the favor, assisting in the home births of many of her own grandchildren.
Deb and Dick were partners in every sense, in marriage and in business. For more than 30 years they ran the North American Telemark Organization together. They renovated and managed a rental property in Waitsfield that eventually became their forever home. Deb was an extraordinary event planner: she organized the annual North American Telemark Festival at Mad River Glen, built and grew the Waitsfield Ski and Skate Sale, ran catering events, and even worked with a production team to help put on one of Phish's music festivals.
Deb kept a meticulous home. Anyone lucky enough to stay the night knew she could make a bed like a five-star hotel. Her flower beds and organic vegetable gardens were the product of a real green thumb, and her home with Dick was always the gathering place for their family. Every Christmas, the grandchildren looked forward to the candies and cookies "Gamy" would make, especially her famous orange cookies.
Deb loved warm ocean beaches and spent years collecting and identifying shells and sea glass, a hobby that eventually became art, as she began making jewelry from the glass she found. She and Dick returned again and again to their favorite destination, Eleuthera. Closer to home, she was, for 33 years, a cherished member of MOB (Moms On Bikes). Whether she was out on an adventure, teaching someone the name of a bird or a plant, or explaining one of her extraordinary culinary creations, she'd sometimes shake up a Rhubarb Kiss, made with her own homemade rhubarb syrup, and her personality shone through. On a mountain bike she was tenacious, brave, and endlessly encouraging to those riding beside her; on skis, spunky and completely in her element, happiest deep in the woods with friends.
She seemed to carry limitless knowledge about the world, and people came to her with everything: a chocolate cake recipe, the name of an unfamiliar plant, how to get a stain out of a wool carpet (a little dish soap worked into foam, dabbed, never rubbed), how to refinish a table, which color to paint a room. Family and friends remember her as an avid reader and puzzle solver, a competitive game player, and a wonderfully thoughtful gift giver and party thrower.
Deb was grounded and wise, strong in her opinions and in her sports, but sensitive and accepting of the people around her. She and her fellow MOB members built friendships that never wavered, and even as PSP took hold, Deb found the strength and resilience to keep showing up to MOB gatherings for as long as she possibly could, meeting the disease with grace and dignity. Deb was empowered to live life to its fullest. Her vibrant personality was, and always will be, part of the heartbeat of MOB.
Deb’s maternal nature and love was expressed in the things she made and did: a unique quilt sewn for each grandchild when they were born, prom dresses handmade or altered, a sofa recovered and curtains sewn for Erin's first home. She taught her children not to give up on something until they'd figured it out. Once, dropping Erin off at the airport, she slipped a small, flat black stone into her daughter's pocket without a word, a stone that went on to travel the world with her.
When Erin once asked her mother when parenting would finally get easier, Deb answered simply: "Oh sweets, it never will." Erin and her own daughter Janie both trace some of their sass and stubbornness straight back to Deb. Mother and daughter shared a love of reading and talking about books and characters, and to this day, whenever Erin says she's "fine," it's a private joke between them, a nod to one of their favorite eccentric, sharp-tongued literary characters. Even after PSP had reduced Deb's voice to a whisper, she was still naming the birds and flowers outside her window, and still finding ways to say "I love you," with her eyes, and with a squeeze of the hand.
Her brother Gary remembers her as a cherished sister, a true matriarch, a business partner who was stable, balanced, and fair, a great cook and baker with a memory like an elephant, beautiful inside and out, loyal, dependable, a true nature lover who shared what she knew freely, content and accepting of others, and, of course, the maker of a perfect bed.
Her daughter Melanie remembers a mother who cared deeply about her friends, her home, and her family, who loved creating things for the pure joy of others enjoying them, and who never cut a corner. Everything she did, she did wholeheartedly, and she always did her best. She was a true lover of nature who passed that love to her children. She was brave. She was strong. And when illness came for her, she met it with grace, acceptance, and respect, all while remaining, to the very end, an amazing listener: honest, and never one to judge.
And from Bonnie, an old friend from Virginia and Vermont: "Her legacy is strong and will endure for the countless ways she lived her life, and all of her many creative talents. She was the original, and most of us did a mediocre job of following her lead." Bonnie remembers their early years together in cabins, the wild exploring on that cross-country bus trip, and the two of them arriving in Vermont as young mothers, a friendship, and a chapter of life, she calls a blessing.
Deb is survived by her brothers and their families, Skip and Tina Collins, Gary and Carolyn Collins, and David Collins, and by her children and their families: Erin Chase and Alex Hilton of Fayston, VT, and their children Janie Cozzi (2016), Oliver Cozzi, Aksel Hilton (2012), and Ryder Hilton; Melanie Hall of Roxbury, VT, and her children Veda Chojnicki, Teague Chojnicki (2005), Georgia Chojnicki, and Oscar Robinson; and Taylor and Anna (LaVigne) Hall of Bristol, VT, and their children Maia Hall and Richard Hall.
In lieu of flowers, donations may be made in Deb's honor to the Mad River Valley Community Fund, PO Box 353, Waitsfield, VT 05673, or online at mrvcommunityfund.org/donate.
