Marie Katherine Weber

Marie Weber, a longtime resident of Bellingham, splendid soprano choir member at the Church of the Assumption and all-round delight, passed away peacefully with her family in Mukilteo on Feb. 28.

Marie would have turned 93 on March 11.

Her longevity stemmed partly from hallmarks of her life – self-discipline and deprecation, resilience, humility, hard work, good humor and positivity.

She was born Marie Katherine Rogenmoser in Buffalo, New York, the second of three children, an older sister, Jean, who died at 7 of scarlet fever, and younger brother Richard “Rogie’’ Rogenmoser, who preceded Marie in death in 2015 at 84.

Her family lived in Lockport, New York, where her father, William, an industrial arts teacher at her high school, would become superintendent of buildings for the district. William was also a master woodworker and furniture maker, as well as a renowned installer and finisher of bowling alleys all over New York state. Her mother, Bernadine, was a homemaker.

Her father’s strong work ethic earned the family an enviable income for the Depression era; Marie recalled they had a new car nearly every year. A strong advocate of a well-rounded education, William provided Marie and Rogie, among other things, private lessons in piano, voice and equestrianism – with their own Morgan horses.

Marie excelled at voice and piano. She rode horses to make her dad happy, she would say. “I was never any good,’’ she said. “Rog was the horseman.’’

Her father’s value of education extended to college. Marie enrolled in Syracuse University in the mid-1940s where she met the love of her life, Edward “Ned” Weber from Toledo, Ohio. Ned had attended Syracuse until he joined the Army in World War II. He returned to Syracuse Marie’s freshman year.

Marie did not return for a second year. They were married in spring 1949. Then what she called “an adventure’’ began.

An ambitious fellow, Ned pursued a career in railroads and then sales. From 1950 to 1957, they had three daughters and a son; a fifth “surprise’’ daughter arrived in 1968. Through the 1960s, they lived in seven states and more than a dozen towns and cities as Ned sought better opportunities: New York, Connecticut, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Illinois and Kentucky. Marie later added two more by herself, Alaska and Washington.

“Ned would come home and say, ‘I changed jobs. We’re moving in two weeks,’’’ she said. “And we would pack up and go.”

Ned was often away on business with their only car. Not a problem. For one relocation, Marie and the four older kids rode their bikes with big baskets ferrying boxes back and forth between the old house and the new one on the other side of Findlay, Ohio.

Like most situations, Marie accentuated the positive. As a child of small-town New York, moving every two and three years exposed her to people and places she never expected and enjoyed. “It was an adventure,’’ she said.

Lifelong Catholics, Marie and Ned sent their first four to parochial schools. That period also challenged the kids, having to make new friends, prove themselves in yet another place, fend off teasing, bullying and “the mean girls.” Marie would empathize but toughen to say you have to make the first move. Just walk away from insults, try to ignore them, they don’t really mean it. It’s hard, but it’s good for you.

Marie’s words instilled good character.

Son Brian, then 5, took a purple bubble gum ball from an open bin at the neighborhood store. When asked by Marie where he got it, he truthfully responded that he took it without paying. Calmly, she reminded him stealing was wrong, and firmly but with understanding told him to go back, tell the manager what he did and pay him a penny for the gum ball. By himself. Which he did. The thought of stealing still triggers thoughts of a disappointed mother and guilt to this day.

As her kids grew out of needing a stay-home mom, Marie began working in administrative and bookkeeping jobs. With new skills came a new sense of independence. She even started voting for Democrats.

“Ned would tell me who to vote for and that’s what I did,’’ she said. “I didn’t even know if we were Republican or Democrat.”

By the early 1970s, she had advanced to assistant general manager of a large hotel in Louisville, Kentucky. She and Ned divorced during that period, and Marie faced a more challenging adventure.

Sexual discrimination was the norm. Bank credit for single moms was not. Marie refused to join Ned in a bankruptcy and paid back loans at $10 a month to establish herself financially. Nonetheless, when she needed to buy her first car, the bank turned down the secured loan. Get your male boss to co-sign, they said. Not one to indulge self-pity, she did. She really liked her blue Pinto.

In the 1980s she followed her daughters who had all moved to Anchorage, Alaska, for love and money. Not the easiest move for a sun worshiper who considered Florida barely warm enough. Again, Marie did what she had to do, successfully. After running a hectic hotel, she settled for a lower-level admin job at the University of Alaska, but steadily rose to lead positions.

Marie moved to Bellingham in the early 1990’s, first buying a mobile home then relocating to a cozy condo near Whatcom Community College. There she attracted friends from church and bridge playing. A Friday evening “cocktail hour’’ with a group of regulars became a mainstay, where she enjoyed her Perfect Manhattan, small plate of snacks and the warm camaraderie.

After retiring in the mid-1990’s Marie became the family glue. Rare was the year that the clan didn’t convene two or three times with her at the center.

“Her infectious laughter and stories of an amazing life will be missed at all the family gatherings,’’ granddaughter Ashley Porter says.

Health issues came. She faced them and moved on. Marie did daily exercises before getting out of bed. She made sure to get in walks (when no longer that mobile, she enjoyed riding an electric scooter) and endured knee, hip and femur replacements. With seemingly as much steel as bones, the family joked about “the bionic woman.’’ She kept mentally keen till her last day with daily reading; she consumed two to three books a week, straining the local libraries’ large-print stock.

She joked with her son that she so enjoyed reading “because I don’t have to think.’’

Ashley Porter recalls a visit she and her parents made with Marie to “her favorite place in the world, Italy (where she was awestruck in a visit to the Sistine Chapel). I had the pleasure of being her roommate throughout that trip. I will always remember needing to wash all her clothes in the sink because she didn’t put her shampoo in Ziplock bags.”

Marie is survived by four of her five children, Connie Porter, Brian Weber, Lorna Bell and Jennifer DeMartini; the eldest, Kathleen Anderson, died in 2009; five grandchildren, Astrid Staneff (Kathleen’s daughter), Alexis Weber, Ashley Porter, Samantha Weber and Brian Dundas; and her brother’s wife, Nancy Rogenmoser of Topeka, Kansas.

Marie’s family and a small group of friends will hold a celebration of her life Sunday, March 6.