I knew Marge Champion, who passed a few days ago.
I thought she was a great lady. She was tough, bright (even brilliant) and lived through a lot of years that most people don’t remember or weren’t around for. When Marge and Gower Champion were on stage or television or the movies, they were equivalent in popularity to the greatest rock stars of today. When I first brought Marge into WAMC so many years ago, there were a few middle-aged women sitting in the reception room and when I introduced them to Marge, I thought they were going to faint. When someone dies at 101, as Marge just did, they have often outlived their fame. I keep meeting people who know little of my personal hero, Pete Seeger. But make no mistake about it: If you watched television in the days of Ed Sullivan or Milton Berle or Steve Allen, you knew Marge and her then husband, Gower Champion.
I don’t know how I fell in with her, but I did. I interviewed her a lot on the radio. She was bright, candid and quick. To put it mildly, she was tough as nails. She told the truth about everything, from the sexual mores of the time to all those people who she knew so well. When she liked you, she stood by you.
One story that I am loath to tell but that exemplifies this point has to do with a former friend of mine whom I introduced to Marge and who, with his wife, became Marge acolytes. Well, I had a falling out with this now-passed semi-celebrity and everywhere that Marge went, he and his wife went, too. One night we were eating at the Castle Street Cafe in the rear of the room when Marge and this couple came in. “Uh oh,” I said to Roselle. Marge certainly knew about the antipathy between her acolytes and me, but without hesitation, she stood up and marched to our table. She greeted Roselle and me as if a day had not passed since the last time we spoke. I never, ever forgot that because it exemplified what a gutsy woman she was. No one could take her for granted.
She had her share of tragedy in her life. She lost her son, Blake, in the prime of his life. She gave “Blake’s Barn” to Jacob’s Pillow as a fitting tribute to the son she loved so much. Once, when our boy, Jonas, was about 12 (don’t hold me to it, he’s 45 now) he was in a children’s dance class and Blake was starring in a dance and he used Jonas as a kind of prop, throwing him around the stage. It was terrific and Marge and the Chartocks always talked about that moment.
In any case, she knew everyone in show business and they knew her. She gave wonderful parties at her house in Stockbridge. Some were centered on the Oscars and she made each of us fill out a ballot to encourage conversation about who would win. As I recall, she was a terrific cook and a great friend to so many of us, including and especially her dear friend, proprietor of Dream Away Lodge in Becket, Danny Osman, who called her “mother.”
There were so many stories she liked to tell, not the least of which involved her being the model for Snow White in the Disney production of the same name.
One can go to the New York Times obituary and hear her telling the story of her incredible life in her own words, live to film. But for those of us in the Berkshires, Marge Champion was ours. When it came to Community Access to the Arts, which serviced the folks that too many people have forgotten, she would appear year after year at their annual events.
She was quite a woman and we in the Berkshires were lucky to have her among us.
