June A. Deffee, 88 retired county court clerk June A. Deffee, a native of Pennsylvania and a 57-year resident of Twentynine Palms, died June 6, 2010, at home. She was 88. Mrs. Deffee was born Aug. 16, 1921, in Pittsburgh to Robert and Estell Riley. She served as a Woman Marine in World War II, and later worked for Ince Memorial Hospital and Williams Insurance in Twentynine Palms before becoming the head clerk for the San Bernardino County Courthouse here, where she worked for many years before retiring. She enjoyed painting, sculpting and playing piano. Mrs. Deffee was preceded in death by her parents, husbands Robert Rafferty and Henry. L Deffee, and grandson Thomas Haiston. She is survived by her daughter and son-in-law, Cindy and James Haiston of Twentynine Palms; granddaughters Darla Glenk-Burke of Twentynine Palms and Alice Grace of Miramar; grandsons Lee Glenk of Whiteman, Mo., James Haiston Jr. of Rapid City, S.D., and Joshua Haiston of Yuma, Ariz; and great-grandchildren Alice and Joseph Glenk, Jessica and Jacob Burke, Zodi Driskoll and Emily and Michael Grace. A celebration of life is scheduled for 4 to 7 p.m. Sunday, June 27 at Mrs. Deffee's home. My Poem I've lived here happily over 40 great years, I've worked and laughed — even shed a few tears. I've seen the mountains all pink and gold, They look shimmery soft or just stark and bold. The sunrise and sunsets are breathtaking, too Turning pink, red and gold between dazzing blue. When the full moon comes up and reaches in height, The mountains turn eerie — it's a sobering sight. All critters start rustling, the bats take to wing, And off in the distance a coyote will sing. Every day the mountains will show me a treat, A new face, a gargoyle or a giant two feet. You must look quickly — they will disappear fast, It's a treat for the eyes that's not meant to last. The beauty that's here I can't fully explain, Like the thunder and lightning before a nice rain. I can only hope when my time is done, You'll bring me back to the land of the sun. Set me down in the rocks between cactus and sand, And let me become a part of the land. — June Deffee, 1997