The home of Marty Rudolph, a descendant of the founder of Cracker Jack, is smack in the middle of the NorthWest Crossing neighborhood on Bend’s west side.

It’s a three-bedroom, prairie-style home, which Rudolph appreciates, as it speaks to her Midwest roots. She remains fairly private about her Cracker Jack lineage, but one bathroom in her 2,167-square-foot home is dedicated to all things Cracker Jack.

“My great-grandfather, Frederick Rueckheim, first came over from Germany at age 14 to work on a farm,” explains Rudolph, reading from an old family document. “He managed to save $200, and he helped an elderly man whose popcorn shop burned down in the Great Chicago Fire (of 1871), eventually buying him out.”

As the story goes, by 1893, her great-grandfather had saved enough money to bring over his younger brother, Louis, from Germany, and together the brothers perfected and introduced the world to a molasses popcorn and peanut confection at Chicago’s first World’s Fair.

A salesman who sampled this special popcorn remarked, “This is Cracker Jack,” which was a colloquialism for excellence. The name stuck, and by 1918 Cracker Jack was a well-known corporation.

“The little guy in the sailor suit that’s on every box of Cracker Jack was my mother’s older brother, Robert, who died when he was around 6 years old. He was the first grandson,” says Rudolph, pointing to a large black-and-white photograph, and then pointing to an old depiction on a Cracker Jack advertisement.

Rudolph thumbs through one of the original Cracker Jack ledgers that belonged to her great-grandfather.

“My mother remembers when she was little, a big limousine would pull up in front of the house, and two giant red boxes were delivered at Christmastime, and inside there was, of course, Cracker Jack, but also lots of toys,” recalls Rudolph. “I wish my mother had saved more of those toys. Some of the Cracker Jack baseball cards that were in the boxes in those days are now worth up to $40,000.”

Still, Rudolph credits the Cracker Jack fortune for putting her and her siblings through college, and she appreciates the family history and lore, though she struck out on her own after college graduation.

Rudolph, 68, laughs easily and seems to be enjoying her retirement in Bend. Her career was long and varied. She’s been a sports marketer, representing athletes in the 1984 and 1988 Olympics; she went from that career to being a model for a sculptor, whom she later represented, along with dozens of other artists. She owned her own art gallery and ran workshops for artists wanting to market their art.

During that time, she was also married to four-time Olympic biathlete Lyle Nelson for 18 years and lived on 20 acres on Mount Hood.

After an amicable split with Nelson, Rudolph reassessed what she loved in life and realized it was free time to enjoy friends, family and art — always art.

“I do miss the forest I had, but after chopping wood, slash burning and trying to always maintain the land, it just became too much. But the views of Mount Hood were great,” says Rudolph. “But here, I don’t have to worry about all that maintenance, but I did have my backyard here landscaped with all those evergreen trees so I could have my own little forest.”

Loving art

As an art marketer, she also became an avid art collector, which is evident throughout her house. Rudolph says the decades of collecting art is what makes her home special.

“When I moved here, my old friends were saying, ‘This house doesn’t look like you,’” recalls Rudolph, who had not hung up her art yet. “After I hung up the art, they all said, ‘Now this house is you.’ I think art reflects who you really are and what your values are.”

Rudolph says part of the reason she was drawn to this home is because of the walls.

“I realized I had many walls to put up my art,” says Rudolph. “And I still have some blank spaces on walls, too, so I guess I’ll have to buy more art.”

The first modern art painting you’re likely to encounter when entering Rudolph’s house is by Barry Mack. The painting is prominently displayed on the large wall above the formal entry.

Below the arched entry is a wall with a piece of art made up of random jigsaw puzzle pieces. It’s titled, “Grape Fresco” by Kee Flynn.

“What I love about all the art in my house is I know every single one of these artists,” says Rudolph. “No matter where I move, I will always have these paintings and sculptures, and it’s like being surrounded by my friends.”

Off the entryway is Rudolph’s office, here she has a hand-cut and hand-dyed wood mosaic by artist Pino Valenti of Sicily, Italy. While most of her art collection is domestic, Rudolph has many international art friends, too.

Walking into the living room, Rudolph makes the introductions of her art, like a party hostess introducing guests.

“Here is ‘Dogwoods,’ a pigment of oil and iridescent by Thomas Boatright of Olympia, Washington, and over the mantel is a painting titled ‘Verde’ by local Bend artist Katherine Taylor,” says Rudolph. “I had two art parties or art salons in my home for these two artists. It gives artists a chance to introduce their art and talk about what inspired them. You don’t get that anymore, and there’s virtually no arts education in our schools any more.”

Her living room is painted a light sage green, which highlights and matches her art in the living room and dining room.

“This is one of the first things I did, I had the walls painted, because every room in this house was painted beige. It was driving me crazy,” says Rudolph.

The open design of this house allows the living room, dining room and kitchen to flow into one another. A large picture window behind an orange sofa gives way to the view of Rudolph’s tiny forest and a patio.

The dining room has art all around, including her tablecloth, which is actually an intricate quilt made by a friend. Behind the table is a ceramic sculpture by Ann Fleming titled “Pie Bird,” which Rudolph says she saw and knew she had to buy.

Above the sculpture is a calligraphy art piece, “Peace Begins with Your Lovely Smile” by Thick Nhat Hanh.

Next to the sculpture and calligraphy art pieces are the dog and cat feeding bowls, above which Rudolph has hung art her pets can enjoy.

The kitchen’s bamboo floor has a butterfly floor canvas painting by Iris Potter.

We ascend the stairs to Rudolph’s favorite room of her home. On the central landing of the staircase, Rudolph points to a large, stunning photo hanging in the stairwell.

“When I first saw this photo, I actually thought it was a painting, but it’s called ‘Lost Equilibrium’ by Seattle photographer Shelly Corbett, who takes her subjects and fabrics and photographs them all underwater.”

We enter the upstairs master suite, through a set of French doors. The massive upstairs suite is the only room on this upper floor, and it’s flooded in natural light.

“I love this room. It’s so big. I can live on this floor by myself — I can do my yoga in here and have room on my bed for my dog, Honeybear, and my cat, Radar,” says Rudolph. “It’s also a girly-girl room, and I love that I can have my dolls on this king-size bed.”

The master suite is large enough to have a seating area, where Rudolph has placed some of her inherited antiques from her mother, which includes a small wooden bureau and mirror and a wooden music stand that belonged to one of her grandfathers, who played for the Chicago Symphony.

Above a large dresser, Rudolph keeps her favorite oil painting, “Mt. Fuji,” by Iranian artist Teimur Amiry.

“This has my favorite things in this painting — the snow-covered mountain, the cherry blossoms, the butterfly and ladybug,” says Rudolph, pointing to the painting. “If you look really close, this artist always paints himself somewhere in his works. He’s in the reflection of the vase here.”

The master bathroom resembles a Grecian bathhouse because of the white limestone friezes lining the wall above the bathtub.

“Those are called ‘The Ballerinas’ by Rodd Ambroson of Joseph, Oregon,” says Rudolph.

And this room wouldn’t be complete without a bronze sculpture on the bathroom counter. It’s a prototype sculpture that Rudolph modeled for, titled “Security Blanket.”

“The original sculpture is almost life-size. This is a smaller version. It’s by Martin Eichinger, who was my neighbor, and that’s how I started my career as an art marketer,” explains Rudolph, who has collected four bronze sculptures by Eichinger since then. “I think I’m addicted to art.”

Cracker Jack collection

We walk back downstairs, and just past the entryway is the famed guest bathroom, where she proudly displays much of her Cracker Jack memorabilia.

Like her “addiction” to art, the Cracker Jack slogan is: “The more you eat, the more you want.”

On a small table in this guest bathroom are some very old Cracker Jack items, including an original box showing what the first Cracker Jack package looked like in the early 1900s, when it sold for 10 cents.

In 1912, her great-grandfather started including a “prize in every box.” Rudolph opens a small bag and pulls out some of the first toys included in those original boxes, which included metal tin toys, now considered highly collectible.

“There was a time, when you could win a coupon in one of the (Cracker Jack) boxes, that would be good for a washing machine,” says Rudolph. “Before the decoder rings, temporary tattoos, magnifying glass, there were those baseball cards you could collect, too. They used to put in pretty good prizes.”

Cracker Jack became an iconic American product, and it was commonly sold at baseball stadiums. It even became included in the 1908 song, “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.”

Rudolph says the family eventually sold Cracker Jack to the Borden Company in 1964, and it was later sold to Frito-Lay in 1997.

When Cracker Jack was celebrating its 100th anniversary in 1993, the sailor mascot threw out the first pitch at Wrigley Field, where the Chicago Cubs were playing an expansion team, the Florida Marlins.

While Cracker Jack is as American as baseball, Rudolph says it wasn’t always viewed that way.

She points to the framed Saturday Evening Post pages that line this powder room. They are Cracker Jack advertisements from 1919.

“The reason they’re red, white and blue is because it was coming off World War I, and my great-grandfather was German, and there was some talk that he wasn’t patriotic enough or something like that,” says Rudolph. “So he started using all red, white and blue, so the public could see he was a patriotic American.”

There are ties that still bind Rudolph to her great-grandfather’s legacy.

“They were members of the Chicago Art Institute, and my mother had a great appreciation for art,” says Rudolph. “But I love art, all art. I’m not an art snob. Any art we collect tells us about ourselves: where we came from, our history and who we are. I think this house is a reflection of my life.”

(Marty Rudolph’s) 2,167-square-foot home is dedicated to all things Cracker Jack.