Wes Brewer Tributes
Please send your memories and tributes for Wes. We will post them on this page as we receive them. Send your messages to WesBrewerMemories@earthlink.net
Posted from John Greene
July 6, 2007
I first knew Wes when I started Junior High at Cumbres. I don't think
I ever talked to him then, but since it was a small school, I'd see him
around. I noticed that the girls that I was attracted to (there were
many) kept making comments about how great he was (there were many).
I was annoyed at this, and annoyed at how he smiled all the time.
What did he have to be so happy about? This was junior high. Junior high
was that new, very-large place, where all of a sudden there were people
around that could beat you up. The major event for me in seventh grade
was that I got hit in the eye with an apple. If my short stature was
making me miserable, how could Wes, smaller than me, have such a
presence? But there he was, hanging out with everyone, smiling and
laughing. He didn't fit in the equation I had made about the world, and
I couldn't figure it out.
Things changed in high school. I grew. I also grew to really like
Wes. I was assigned a seat next to him in English class during sophomore
year. It turns out he was funny, and I started to think that perhaps
that was why he was popular.
We all had to give a twenty-minute speech during that year; he gave
one on his illness. I was fifteen, and I did not know anything from
anything. It was sobering to realize that, had the cards been dealt
poorly for me, I could have had a chronic disease that carried with it a
death sentence. You would think that any kid that goes through that
would have a negative outlook on life. Wes, however, did not. His
speech had the flavor of "Well, this is what I have and that's the way
it is," and "Things really aren't as bad as you think they might be,"
and "Please stop feeling sorry for me, that can make me weary." Any
problem I thought I had did not seem to really matter, after that. Could
I have been that brave? Could I have been talking in front of everyone
about this, with a smile on my face? It's funny how your opinion of
someone can change from ambivalence to admiration in twenty minutes.
Sophomore year passed, then high school, then my freshman year of
college. Somewhere in there, the mullet became popular, as did very
large glasses. I had both. 1988 was the summer that I worked as a
nurses' aide in the hospital in Los Alamos. I basically ran around
checking people's blood pressure, which, after a while, was not too
interesting. What made it interesting were the patients, and the
context with which I saw them. Some were friends, parents, and teachers,
now ill, in the hospital for help. I had a front-row seat into their
personal life, and that made it important.
Wes came in. He was there for a week. It was my understanding, at the
time, that things were getting harder for him, and would continue that
way. I hadn't seen him in a few years; it was really good to interact.
But I would have preferred that we could have done so in a better
situation. When your task is minor, you have time to look, and I saw a
lot. I saw the respiratory therapist, always in the room, always working
on him, saying things like, "Sorry, Wes, we are going to have to do this
again," and "Just a little more, keep going." I saw the tubes, and the
machines, and the pounding, the seemingly endless pounding on his back.
And I saw the faces of everyone who was involved in treatment, from the
pulmonologist on down, everyone who, after family leaves, has no need to
hide things, and can be honest about the situation. I saw that they
knew.
And I saw Wes's face. I would not have believed it if I were told,
but there it was. Wes was smiling. In the middle of despair of What Is,
and the hopelessness of What Will Surely Be, Wes was smiling. He knew,
of course, more than anyone else. And he chose to address his situation
in this way: by picking out the pieces in his life that were funny, and
focusing on those.
What is hope? Strength? Courage? Grace?
I saw them.
Thank you, Wes.
John Green
Posted from Jean Thomas (McClendon)
May 22, 2007
Wes was one of the sweetest individuals I ever had the pleasure to know.
I remember hearing about his passing a few weeks after it had happened
and it took a long time for it to sink in that he was really gone.
Everything I had ever read or heard about Cystic Fibrosis stressed the
fact that most people afflicted with it don't live to see their
teenage years. If anyone could beat the odds it was Wes and he was so
determined I was convinced he'd live a long life. I didn't make it
to the 10 yr. reunion so it's hard to think about celebrating the High
School years knowing he won't be with us. But he will never be truly
gone because so many of us have such wonderful memories that we will
carry with us always.
Wes was the kind of person you enjoyed being around, he always had a
positive attitude and a big smile on his face. There was no way you
could have a bad day or be in a bad mood when he was around. He was the
kind of guy that would just sit and talk with you about everything and
anything. I remember one afternoon just sitting outside talking about
horses, our families, and how much we were looking forward to
graduating. He was never one to dwell on the seriousness of his health,
never wanted to be treated like he was sick or in need of special
attention, he just wanted to live his life and take as many friends as
he could along for the ride.
I think it was Junior year and Wes had been hospitalized. I remember
hearing things like "it didn't look good" and that he might not
make it out that time. But true to his spirit Wes was too stubborn to
let a set back hold him down for long and because of his courage,
strength and sheer will to be living, he made it back to school and
inspired us all. Through it all, he never lost that smile or his great
sense of humor and I'll be remembering his exuberant laugh and
strength of heart when we get together in July.
Jean Thomas (McClendon)
Posted from Susan Brockway
May 17, 2007
Wes Brewer, what can't I say about Wes. He had the strength of 100
people wrapped up in his small frame. He taught me many life lessons
about enjoying life, living in the moment, being a friend and so many
others. I had a lot of classes with Wes, one in particular that I
remember was biology in 9th grade. Mrs. Groves hated us because we
couldn't pay attention, we were always gabbing and laughing about all
sorts of things. Purgatory ski trips, Homecoming, Senior week and
campouts, Mazatlan, the list was endless.
I visited Wes in the hospital many times over the course of the
years, the last being about a week before he passed. Even then he
encompassed that strength and courage that I always admired. As with
many others I was devastated to see him go so young and so soon. I have
thought of him often over the years and miss his BIG SMILE. As with
Greg, my thoughts of High School are not complete without memories of
Wes, therefore he will be with us in spirit in July.
Susan Brockway
