Lena Mae Brooks

Dear Sherry and family, I want to offer my sympathy and prayers on the passing of Lena Mae. Her smile brightened any occasion, and her happy attitude was an example to all. My parents and her many friends were fortunate to have had her in their lives. She will certainly be missed, but I am one of the lucky ones to have wonderful childhood memories of Lena Mae and her family. Sincerely, Joan Booth Iversen

In Celebration of Lena Mae Lena Mae and my mother, Margaret Crowe, were dear and close friends, as were their husbands, Frank Brooks and Buck Crowe, and I considered Lena Mae my friend, too. Our history is long but never long enough. When I was under ten years old, I ‘taught’ Sunday school to two year olds with Lena Mae. One Sunday morning one of the little boys tugged on my sleeve and even with my inexperience–I am an only child–I knew he needed to make a trip down the hall. Lena Mae told me to take him. I felt quite responsible. When we reached the children’s stall I helped the little boy sit down. Uh-huh. I hear your intake of breath and see a smile sneaking across your lips. I was eight and my reflexes surprised me. I just managed to leap out of the way of the golden arc of liquid that shot forward. I’ve never forgotten the lesson or that I learned it in Lena Mae’s class. Many years later when some hairdos in rainbow colors were stylish for some but still shocking for others, I was along when Lena Mae spotted a young woman with particularly intense neon-red egg-beater projections atop her head. Never one to judge harshly and with classy discretion, Lena Mae quietly remarked, ‘Oh, a raspberry blonde!’ She loved people and lived by the words posted once on her refrigerator: God don’t make no junk. My husband Michael Frenchman first met Lena Mae around 1995. He and I always looked forward to being with Lena Mae on our visits to see Mother in Wichita. All three of us miss her already. With Love, Karen, Michael, and Marg