Adam Keith Brewer

Adam and i ....happy

In seventh grade I met a girl named Emily Brewer, meeting her I didn't think she'd be such a big part of my life. But boy was I wrong, she became my best friend and a sister. In turn of her becoming family to me, I met her goofy father, Adam. You never think that you'll ever become close with your best friends parents. But i did. Adam Brewer was like a second father to me. He taught me things, told me life lessons and messed around with us. He taught me how to shoot a bow and arrow, he talked to me about things that I felt like I couldn't talk to my own parents about and he showed me that life is short and you just have to live it to the fullest. He loved to scare us and constantly did so. I've seen him in his leafy suit popping out of trashcans and creeping up behind us on the couch far too many times. I've had so many laughs in that house that it could probably suffocate a person how much joy and cheerfulness we experienced. Adam really meant a lot to me, he was a father figure and a friend. I couldn't have asked for someone more special to come into my life. 

Kevin Jemmott, Gail Brewer, Jason Bush. Enjoying Kevin's hospitality at a backyard BBQ, with great company and lots of fun memories! Sept 22, 2012.

Like so many of us-I have MANY (happy) memories of Adam. I found this message from him I forgot about, just last night, in Facebook. It's so thoughtful of him-and I can just picture him TELLING me this-so I wanted to share...I was upset about something and either posted something-or sent him a message directly about my frustration and he replied...

Nov 6, 2011 You are a very good man, with a tremendous heart. Even as a kid, my most vibrant memories of you revolve around "just doing the right thing." As long as I've known you, you have always taken the high road. That road has not always treated you well, but I very much respect you for doing it.

This was our Adam-always thoughtful-always caring and encouraging (under his armour of self-confidence, charm, and gentle ribbing of course!). I'll always love and miss my friend.

Young ladies, I introduce myself now never having had the opportunity to meet you.  Please forgive me, I am fairly broken over the news, having just reached my secluded ears, of the passing of your father, and doubt I could express adequately the depth and breadth, the true measure of abhorrent pain I feel at this moment.  This I will endure, as we all must; but this is my excuse should my words fail.

I grew up with Adam.  We collected stamps together.  I am not sure at what point of his life he gave this up.  I never have, and among the most treasured are the ones he gave me...a pair of Capt Cooks and a Presidential Series of the 80s.  They are proudly displayed in a special album.

Your dad, he is a hero to all boys in Montrose.  When we were growing up, boys were not allowed to wear shorts during the summer months at school.  You can imagine the heat of a class room full of hyperactive kids and no air conditioning.  So three of us, Steve King, me, and your dad, we endeavored to change that.  In protest, we adhered to the dress code but to the opposite gender, wore dresses to school.  Since, boys have been allowed to wear shorts during the hotter months of the school year.  I thought we were rather sexy, but apparently the school decided it was in the best interest for all involved that boys be allowed to wear shorts to prevent the shenanigans of 3 crazy boys in dresses! :)

I have many fond memories of your dad.   We used to borrow my grandparents foam surf boards during the day and paddle around on those, until our chests were raw from friction.  We used to sneak out late at night when he lived at Lake Raylean here in PA, and we'd swim across the lake.  For our sizes at the time, it was a large span, and we'd stop halfway across to catch a break.  One night we had an event (if you ever wish to know more about this, as bizarre as it is, you can contact me) during our break across the lake.  Upon this moment of the event, we swam so hard, so fast, to reach the distant shore.  But I wasn't the swimmer that your dad was.  He saved my life that night.  I would have drowned that night if it had not been for him.

I have always loved your dad, he has been a dear friend.  I regret that time, life, and distance have rendered the better of my childhood in his death.   The pieces of my broken heart are yours, should you ever need them.  -Matt

Note-pic add 08/12/12, Adam, Matt and Steve (in protest). jpb