Veronica Mratinich

Born in San Pedro, Calif. and raised in Bellingham, Wash., Veronica Mratinich Benvenga — Ronnie to friends — was known to sing in Croatian, even as a little girl. She grew up hearing stories of Vis, the tiny Dalmatian island where her father had been raised in the former Yugoslavia, a place of both immeasurable beauty and little opportunity, and he instilled in Ronnie and her sister Kathy that nothing be taken for granted. The Mratinich girls worked hard: as students; as baton twirling majorettes; as berry pickers during summers. When they were not helping around the house, or dancing – ballet, mostly – they sought adventure: building forts in the woodsy area along Chuckanut drive; traipsing around Fairhaven; spending summers with cousins at Birch Bay near the Canadian border, walking the tide flats, going on the ferris wheel and skating at the roller rink. As teenagers they went dancing at the Beacon ballroom, where they did the bunny hop and the twist – their first taste of rock n roll.

Veronica studied political science at Gonzaga University during the height of the antiwar protests of the 1960s. She recently recounted the day, in 1963, when the world learned the news of the John F. Kennedy assassination. She had volunteered for Kennedy’s campaign, and she recalled the eerie silence that washed over the campus that day. She went on to spend a year abroad, studying in the “Gonzaga in Florence” program, traveling throughout Europe (including at least one hitchhiking adventure), visiting family in the former Yugoslavia, and meeting some of her dearest friends to this day.

After settling in Seattle, Veronica did what many young people do: took whatever job she could find. She worked as a reservations agent at Western Airlines (now Alaska), where she once called a man’s wife to report he’d missed his flight — inadvertently revealing his affair! — and later as a tax auditor for the IRS (a job she hated). She soon received her teaching certification and began her career as an elementary school teacher, on Mercer Island and in Lake Washington public schools. In 1974, she took a year off to move to Zagreb, where she studied language and dance with the Croatian National Dance Ensemble and took trips to Vis to visit relatives and pick grapes on the family vineyards.

Veronica never considered herself a radical, per se; but she did brandish a pair of bellbottoms when she was set up on a blind date with a long-haired hippie from New York, fresh out of law school, who’d followed the dream of the 1970s and moved out West (after stopping by a little festival called Woodstock in 1969). Jim was working as a Vista volunteer lawyer for low-income families, and would become her husband of 44 years. Together, they raised three children: Jessica, now a journalist at The New York Times; Nick, who is a manager at a casino in Miami; and Zach, a P.E. teacher in south Seattle who has followed in his mother’s footsteps, recently returning from four months studying language in Croatia.

Veronica was a teacher for most of her professional life, but she was also a lifelong learner: a student of folklore and music, which she studied as a graduate student at UCLA; of Croatian language, taking continuing education classes into the final years of her life; and of Balkan dance, which she reliably attended every Friday night, and performed in countless folk festivals around the region with her dance group, Slavia. After retiring, in 2004, she had many years to do even more of what she loved. She became a board member with Seattle Balkan Dancers, and put together a history of Bellingham’s fishing community for CroatiaFest. She visited Joshua Tree, New York, Vis, Istanbul, Sicily, Paris, and recently Morocco, where she and Jim went on a camel ride in the moonlight of the Sahara desert.

Veronica also convinced Jim that they should buy a cabin in Birch Bay, the beach community where she’d spent many happy days as a child. They were lucky to find a condo right on the water, and there were many carefree days spent walking in the sand, swimming, a bit of kayaking, going to the annual Zuanich family picnic, her mother’s side of the family. Birch Bay was a retreat during the pandemic. Outdoor activities were considered safe, and so there was every kind of berry picking, walks and hikes close to Mount Baker, visits to the Skagit county tulip festival, and bicycling along the beach.

Veronica was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in November 2022, but even then, she did not entirely slow down. With Jim’s help and support, and with the encouragement of her oncology doctors, she continued to dance when she felt up to it (famously asking, during one of the last festivals she attended, “Where’s the after party?”) and to travel. She and Jim went to Hawaii, where they saw steam vents and lava at Volcanoes National Park, to Port Townsend for their anniversary, to Miami to visit their son, Nick. For her 80th birthday, this past July, she and her childhood friend Julie went to Canliss – the same place they’d celebrated their 21st birthdays many years ago. In October, she saw her other son, Zach, receive his Croatian citizenship in a ceremony at CroatiaFest. Her daughter, Jessica, visited often from New York, and even took her mom’s old bell bottoms back home with her.

Veronica passed away peacefully on Dec. 22, a few days before Christmas, at Swedish Hospital on Capitol Hill, with her family by her side. She will be remembered by the hundreds of students who knew her as “Ms. Mratinich” (using “Ms” back before it was widely adopted), as well as by her dear friends and extended family. She is survived by her husband, Jim Benvenga, her twin “boys,” Nicholas Benvenga and Zachary Benvenga, her daughter Jessica Bennett, and her sister, Kathleen Mratinich.

Donations in Veronica’s name can be made to Seattle Balkan Dancers or the Seattle Junior Tamburitzans.

Please share memories of Veronica on the Tribute Wall above.

Arrangements Entrusted to Emmick Family Funeral Home - West Seattle