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Letters

January 10, 2013

Marge Brewer was one of a kind

(Continued)

An argument could be made — why don’t they go to the Boys’ & Girls Club or the YMCA/YWCA or Girls Incorporated, places that cater to youth.

“Don’t always work that way,” Marge insisted. “In some cases, they have no way of getting there. I’m looking at a neighborhood setting for locals.”

Much as she tried, through articles that hit the paper, it never came to pass and her balloon burst. She gave it a year, maybe two, and never got the necessary funding. But she remained persistent toward her mission when others would have quit in half the time.

Whenever I saw the woman — and it was everywhere — the greeting was usually standard. Her “Brewer” name always came into play.

“Hey Marge, what’s brewin?’’

“The grounds in my coffee,” she would retort. “Too many to count.”

One time I really fouled up badly. She gave me all the information on a senior citizens trip she was planning and I associated it with another venue. They got the people, she got nothing.

The next day she was on the phone. I expected a verbal outrage. But no. Instead, it was a chuckle.

“You helped another cause,” she said. “Glad to help any way I can, even with a misprint. Goes to show we’re all human and can make mistakes.”

My favorite Marge-ism was her Thom Thumb weddings, where she got to dress up the children in bridal outfits and staged the extravaganzas at her beloved Riverside Memorial Church. The kids had a ball. And Marge was the biggest kid of them all.

I asked her why one day.

“Because if you want to stay young and vibrant, you have to surround yourself with youngsters. I’m around elderly folks all the time. It makes me feel older than I am. But I loved them all.”

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