It was a hot August day in 2012 when I first met Margaret Romph.
I was performing a magic/juggling show for a Dream Factory picnic at Wonderland Camp, a camp for children with disabilities in the Lake of the Ozarks area.
Right from the start, Margaret stood out from the group. She was confined to a wheelchair and a ventilator, but the pretty brunette girl had an infectious smile. She had just had her face painted with blue, purple and pink swirls around her eyes. Her hair had streaks of blue spray paint. Like Linus in the Peanuts cartoon, she had her ever-present security blanket.
Her mother, Sherline, brought her there to have fun. Margaret was ready.
She deserved to have a little fun. Just three years earlier, at the age of 5, she was in a car wreck on U.S. 54 West just outside of Jefferson City.
She sustained two broken legs, severe head trauma, a broken neck and a spinal cord injury that paralyzed her. Paramedics at the scene fought hard to save her life. They literally brought back her heartbeat after it had stopped.
Since the accident, she has had countless surgeries. In 2016, we reported that Margaret "has had 30 surgeries recently, including 20 since April. On July 25, she was released from the hospital, ending a 67-day stay during which she underwent two surgeries a week."
She led a harder life than most of us can imagine. But from my occasional interactions with her, I could tell that she loved life. She must have - for more than a decade, she fought against all odds to keep it.
She finally succumbed on Monday, with her family by her side.
On Monday, the Jefferson City Council fittingly wore purple in her honor.
Through all her surgeries and medical care - during parts of her life, she spent more time in a hospital than out - her family helped her maintain as much of a normal life as possible.
She attended school and various other activities, including being part of a cheerleading squad, continuing a sport she had started before her accident.
I saw Margaret again last summer at Wonderland Camp. She was in her wheelchair on the dance floor. Lights flashed and music pumped as her eyes were peeled at some of the boys in the room. Her sheepish smile was evident when her mother said she was becoming "boy crazy."
I'll miss Margaret. But her spunk, resilience and zest for life will continue to inspire me as well as many others in our community.
GAT/News Tribune