People notice. Sometimes they notice from close up. Sometimes they notice from afar.

 

There was one young lady I met many years ago I noticed in both settings. Her name was Angie Tangari Fowler, born in Clarksburg and raised in Bridgeport.

 

I got to know Angie casually through her parents, Mark and Lora Rohrbough. I first met her as the sister to Bridgeport High School football and multi-sport standout C.R. Rohrbough back around 2000. C.R. had a refuse to give up mentality on the athletic fields I was certain could never be matched or even topped.

 

No disrespect to C.R., I was wrong. The ironic thing is the person who matched and surpassed that – and I am certain C.R. would agree – was his sister Angie.

 

Maybe it was who raised her. Maybe it was the community. Maybe, just maybe, it was her faith in God she so openly touted.

 

Her ability to never give up was truly a thing of beauty. At the same time, I am certain all who knew Angie, including so many more whose experiences with her were far deeper than my own, would rather have just known the beautiful, caring, and fun side of Angie’s soul as opposed to learning about her ability to weather adversity in life's unfair doses.

 

As most reading this may already know, Angie passed Dec. 18 after one of the most in your face battles with cancer I witnessed from afar most of the time and up close on a few occasions. I am sure she had the same attitude to battle ahead in other parts of her life, but the battle with cancer was something I was aware of.

 

I noticed. People noticed.

 

Here is the thing, when reading the obituary for Angie the words used to talk about her interaction with cancer were perfect. It read that she passed, and I quote directly, “after thriving with metastatic cancer for the last 16 years.” Thrive is exactly what she did with a disease I pray will one day soon be in the garbage bin of history.

 

I first learned about Angie’s ordeal early on. It was when Lora Rohrbough saw my wife was on a prayer list, was able to figure out my wife had just been diagnosed with breast cancer and called me. After comforting words, she told me – without knowing we had been there that very day and were weighing our options – that Valerie needed to be in Morgantown with Dr. Jame Abraham, the same oncologist treating Angie.

 

I have written in this blog about that phone call. Simply no coincidence in my mind that as I prayed for guidance, Lora Rohrbough called. Dr. Jame Abraham, who treated Angie for more than a decade and a half, was exactly who Valerie needed.

 

The call came, indirectly, because of Angie.

 

That was more than a decade ago. Valerie’s battle lasted a year with a much better early diagnosis and was physically taxing on her and emotionally draining as well. Angie’s battle lasted 16 years. Part of me cannot imagine that, and part of me just does not want to.

 

There is a reason Angie kept smacking cancer in the face. Sure, part of it was the love of family and her children that sustained her. Part of it was Dr. Abraham and other dedicated medical professionals. The biggest part of it was what again was stated so eloquently by the obituary.

 

“At the age of 27, Angie made the decision to live with her Stage 4 diagnosis – not die from it.”

 

Under the assumption Angie’s life was not full due to cancer? She was married. She made friends. She raised a family. She loved and was loved in droves. And she LIVED.

 

I am so pleased to have not seen in the obituary that cancer took her life. It did not. She lived her life to the fullest because cancer could not take from her what she refused to give. Bottom line, Angie was a warrior of the first order.

 

Cancer never had the upper hand with Angie Fowler so to say she lost the battle would be word play of a wrong nature. All cancer did was make what would have still been a life of impact without it, one with major impact that will march forward.

 

Angie Fowler showed everyone how to live both up close and from afar.

 

How do I know?

 

I noticed. Others noticed too.

 

May you rest in peace Angie and be “whole and no longer in pain,” as stated in the obituary.

 

Know you touched lives you never even knew about by doing what God wants us to do. You lived life to the fullest and became an example to others for eternity.

 

Editor's Note: Top photo shows Angie Fowler with her husband and kids, while the second she's shown with her parents and brother. In thie thid photo is a recent portration shot, while the bottom photo, courtesy of Justine Scott Marino, captures the essence of who Angie was as a person. All other photos courtesy of the Rohrbough family.