Chuck Hogue spent his life courting Margaret Squire with his poetry.

Marguerite Elizabeth Hogue died far too soon. It matters not one whit that she was 97. We had more to learn from her. She lived her belief that each of us could, in our own way, make the world a kinder more compassionate place, and help fill life with Jove, laughter, and good food. She was sunshine--bright, gracious, gentle, kind, loving, and she told the worst jokes known to man.

Remember the one about the Pastor who asked one of his parishioners whether she ever thinks about the hereafter? "Yes, she replied, whenever I enter a room I think, what am I here after?"

Margaret Squire was born April 16, 1919 at 5:20 pm, the third of Frank and Annie Cullen Squire's five children. It took months to settle on a name so the family called her "Babe" and still does. She had two older sisters: Ruby Mildred who died at 20 and Frankie Marie who married Marvin Elkins and died at 23. A younger brother born prematurely is buried in the Elk Mountain Cemetery, and her baby sister, Luetta May, now 87, lives in Salt Lake. The family genealogy is the history of Routt County's true pioneers: Cullens, Trulls, l

The Hogue Ranch was homesteaded in 1880 by William Denison who built the original two room log cabin and, like so many, came to Colorado to recover from consumption; his library created the nucleus of the town's first library housed in the old Union Church. Margaret's Dad, Frank Squire, was born in 1890, the oldest of 12 children and served as ranch foreman for the Hell-fire-and-brimstone cowboy/turned respectable preacher, James Norvell, before acquiring the property in 1917. Squire was the state brand inspector for 20 years, played the guitar, owned General Pershing, one of the finest bucking horses in the area, and prospered because he grew both stock and grain, ran both sheep and cattle, in defiance of cattle-war antagonisms.

Babe's first love was Staff Sargent Charles Edward Hogue. Chuck was a master plasterer from Pennsylvania who served in Company L of the 87th Mountain Infantry Regiment, 10th Mountain Division. He asked her to wait for him and she did. She was married in white satin on January 25,1947 on this spot. Her second love was Baxter Black and she relished his columns, and every scrap of ag information and lame joke in The Fence Post, which littered her living room until she reread every issue, several times.

Remember the one about the lady who told the cop, "If you don't like my driving, get off of the sidewalk."

For two decades the Hogue family and cows shared the back 40 with hundreds of locals, witnessing wedding vows, meeting Chuck's 10th Mountain Division buddies, scarfing down Rocky Mountain Oysters, and drinking heartily. But Margaret Squire insisted upon propriety at all times. She was a Lady. Ruffians were invited to leave. And, let the record reflect, the Hogue children were all Altar Boys.

She was the belle of Routt County, and said her Guardian Angel saved her from broken bones and bad marriages. Anyway, she claimed, "country boys" could dance better than "town boys." And Chuck Hogue was a dancing fool. They tore up the Trull Grange Hall at weekend and holiday dances. Margaret was a "Ranch Kid" and always referred to herself that way. She rode a horse to school six miles each way. But as Mike wryly observes, "Thank goodness, someone invented the school bus before we kids had to travel that route."

She knew how to laugh and how to make lasagna. The boys recall rolling out the pasta. It took two big pans to feed their hungry faces. Frank remembers "We milked the cows and ate like kings." Chuck claims the kids were too busy working to get into trouble: stacking hay, helping their father put up Coop Buildings for Farmland Industries. Margaret never used a belt or hairbrush to make a point. She dealt with trouble by twisting your ear or telling Dad. John says "That's when you knew you were in big trouble." The kids called her Pin Ears. Frank, Mike and John got sent off to Canyon City's Abbey for High School, which they agree, was way, harder than college.

Margaret suffered a mother's worst pain-losing her daughter Mary Beth 20 years ago although she added PJ, Scott and Cresta Lee to a passel of grandchildren: John's Justin and Jessica; Chuck's Lisa, Brenda and Mamie.

Her generosity was legend. Through the years dozens of little old ladies living on pensions inhabited the modest one-room apartments on the top floor of the Squire Building at 9th & Lincoln, the largest commercial building in town, which Margaret inherited with her sister and niece. Each room had a sink but all shared the bathroom at the end of the hall. Margaret reduced the rent for each and every one of them-AND she did the same for Virginia Andrew when she opened the Unique Shop on the ground floor, allowing aging widows to sell doilies, bird cages, stained aprons, chipped china, and tarnished silver in order to have cash for groceries.

Babe was the High School Homecoming Queen, a telephone operator before and after graduation and, having survived 20 years at home with five children, a "career girl," retiring at age 67 after 16 years as office manager ofthe Federal land Bank. She was the penultimate ranch wife, fighting bats and snakes that found their way into the ranch's log home where she and Chuck moved in 1948, after a few years in Pennsylvania. They were committed to their family and church, actively participating in community affairs; They were Democratic Committee Chairs, Presidents of the Holy Name Catholic Church Altar and Rosary Societies,

election judges, members of the VNA Board of Directors. Margaret also served on the school Parent Advisory Committee and taught Catechism.

In 1994 Margret wrote two books--one her childhood memoirs, the other a compilation of Chuck's adoring letters and poems from the Italian Front, sometimes two and three letters a day. She said she wanted to preserve them for her children in order "To challenge them to start the story of their lives where her story ends." She was wrong. Her legacy will never end, because she is the story of what's best in all of us, the best of our community and nation.

Today gives real meaning to A CElEBRATION OF LIFE. Margaret Hogue celebrated every single day and, in tribute to her, so must we.

--Sureva Towler