I am very saddened to learn of Merrill's death. We went to school together ever since the 2nd grade at Colfax. I remember that a picture of Merrill getting the Salk polio vaccine made the national papers when we were in grade school. Dr. Salk personally came to Colfax to administer the vaccine, the press followed him, and our homeroom happened to be the first one to get vaccinated that day. We lined up alphabetically. The picture showed Merrill (who went by Meryl back then) getting the shot while Alan Broido, next in line, looked on with a very scared expression. I was next in line behind Alan, but was cropped out of the picture.
She was one of the most intelligent people I ever have known, but, more importantly, was one of the nicest.
So very sorry to hear of Merrill's passing. I met Merrill when we first began Allderdice in sixth grade. We became very good friends for several years. She was so full of life and energy! She loved to dance! She would come over to my house after school and we would play records and dance, dance, dance! My mother always commented that we wore holes in our livingroom carpet! She was a beautifiul girl. I know she is missed by her family and friends.
I remember Merrill as one of the people who was kind and calm,traits that I was trying to develope during those hectic but still "safe" Colfax days.
As more and more of the Allderdice 1964 class moves on,I think it is important that we stop and remember each one.Michael Brourman's comments about Merrill also remided me of what a good friend he was to me as well.
Merrill and i (and Alan and Kirke) were best friends throughout high school. i so remember riding around in Kirke's austin healy's...and so many fun weekend double dates. And then, when Alan (Buncher) and I married, Merrill was our maid of honor and her husband , Kirke (Wilson) were maid of honor and best man respectively at our wedding. Taking different life journeys, Merrill and i lost contact. We finally reunited via Facebook a few years ago, and then she abruptly was gone again. RIP, Merrill, and thank you for the time we had together.
I always liked Merrill. I remember she came to a birthday party I had-and gave me a pair of football shoulder pads-which I thought was the most perfect gift a guy could get.
As a terrified kid from Turtle Creek whose family moved to the big city, I entered Colfax in fifth grade (Rick Slone insists it was fourth, he could be right) to meet King of the Hill, aka Merrill Braunstein. She's remembered as an imposing figure, quite the Tomboy, and again at our first reunion "shaking her money maker". Regret not having known her as an adult ...
I knew Merrill in and after high school, and was very fond of her. She was a real "character": funny as heck, tough as nails, irreverent, independent and beautiful. I miss her very much.
Merrill and I lived on opposite sides of Darlington Rd.. It was a steep hill, her house near the bottom and mine near the top. Until we went on to Allderdice and could hike up the Shady Avenue hill as an alternative to circling along beautiful Beacon street, Merrill was my tormentor. She was tough and strong. I was petite and only strong on the inside, so I was afraid. She once threatened to beat me up where no one would see, on the final stretch of Beacon where she and I and Richie Golomb were the only after-school walkers. She waited for me after school every day for almost a month. I was afraid to leave Colfax. Sometimes I waited inside for an hour, until she thought she missed me and left. Other times I flew out when the bell rang and ran as much of the way home as my lungs and legs could handle.
Then one day when I was walking home for lunch (my mother insisted I do this everyday so she could feed me a high calorie meal to put some "meat on my bones," but walking to and from Colfax in a hour, with that big Darlington hill to mount, consumed more calories than lunch could provide), I saw an ambulance at Merrill's house and her mother, pale as death, was being wheeled out on a stretcher. In that moment I felt compassion for Merrill, my petty tyrant. When I went back to school after lunch, a lunch where I refused to eat my spaghetti because the red sauce reminded me of the bloodless pale that had just shaken me, I knew that Merrill didn't yet know her mother had been taken to the hospital. Merrill was pulled out of school later that afternoon. I walked home without fear, but not in peace. When I got to her house at the bottom of the hill she was outside on her porch with her younger sister, and her new baby brother in a carrier basket. I walked up to them and told Merrill I saw her Mother being taken to the hospital at lunchtime and I was sorry to know she wasn't well. Merrill told me she was home alone, in charge of her sister and her baby brother while her Dad was at the hospital. I asked if she knew how to take care of a baby. She shrugged. In that moment I grasped the challenges of Merrill and her family, her need to be tough, her likely imagining that my family in the house up the hill made it easy for me. I asked her if there was anything I could do to help her and told her to call my house if she needed anything. We hugged, bumping through forgiveness and fear and the torments of childhood.
Frank Raspey
MB llived just some homes from me at Westinghouse Park with kids and two big white dogs.. RIP!
Michael Brourman
I am very saddened to learn of Merrill's death. We went to school together ever since the 2nd grade at Colfax. I remember that a picture of Merrill getting the Salk polio vaccine made the national papers when we were in grade school. Dr. Salk personally came to Colfax to administer the vaccine, the press followed him, and our homeroom happened to be the first one to get vaccinated that day. We lined up alphabetically. The picture showed Merrill (who went by Meryl back then) getting the shot while Alan Broido, next in line, looked on with a very scared expression. I was next in line behind Alan, but was cropped out of the picture.
She was one of the most intelligent people I ever have known, but, more importantly, was one of the nicest.
Linda Choder (Walker)
So very sorry to hear of Merrill's passing. I met Merrill when we first began Allderdice in sixth grade. We became very good friends for several years. She was so full of life and energy! She loved to dance! She would come over to my house after school and we would play records and dance, dance, dance! My mother always commented that we wore holes in our livingroom carpet! She was a beautifiul girl. I know she is missed by her family and friends.
Linda Choder Walker
Joel Greenberger
I remember Merrill as one of the people who was kind and calm,traits that I was trying to develope during those hectic but still "safe" Colfax days.
As more and more of the Allderdice 1964 class moves on,I think it is important that we stop and remember each one.Michael Brourman's comments about Merrill also remided me of what a good friend he was to me as well.
Carole Small (Buncher)
Merrill and i (and Alan and Kirke) were best friends throughout high school. i so remember riding around in Kirke's austin healy's...and so many fun weekend double dates. And then, when Alan (Buncher) and I married, Merrill was our maid of honor and her husband , Kirke (Wilson) were maid of honor and best man respectively at our wedding. Taking different life journeys, Merrill and i lost contact. We finally reunited via Facebook a few years ago, and then she abruptly was gone again. RIP, Merrill, and thank you for the time we had together.
Carole
Robert Kweller
I always liked Merrill. I remember she came to a birthday party I had-and gave me a pair of football shoulder pads-which I thought was the most perfect gift a guy could get.
I too reconnected with her at the 40th.
Bob
Henry Henry (Herskovitz)
As a terrified kid from Turtle Creek whose family moved to the big city, I entered Colfax in fifth grade (Rick Slone insists it was fourth, he could be right) to meet King of the Hill, aka Merrill Braunstein. She's remembered as an imposing figure, quite the Tomboy, and again at our first reunion "shaking her money maker". Regret not having known her as an adult ...
Ralph Shapira
I knew Merrill in and after high school, and was very fond of her. She was a real "character": funny as heck, tough as nails, irreverent, independent and beautiful. I miss her very much.
Brenda Kolko (Castleforte)
I remember "hanging out" at Merrills house during our high school days.
She was such a funny, beautiful and friendly girl. I was shocked that only today I learned of
her passing.
Eileen Pittler (Name Change: Elia Wise)
Merrill and I lived on opposite sides of Darlington Rd.. It was a steep hill, her house near the bottom and mine near the top. Until we went on to Allderdice and could hike up the Shady Avenue hill as an alternative to circling along beautiful Beacon street, Merrill was my tormentor. She was tough and strong. I was petite and only strong on the inside, so I was afraid. She once threatened to beat me up where no one would see, on the final stretch of Beacon where she and I and Richie Golomb were the only after-school walkers. She waited for me after school every day for almost a month. I was afraid to leave Colfax. Sometimes I waited inside for an hour, until she thought she missed me and left. Other times I flew out when the bell rang and ran as much of the way home as my lungs and legs could handle.
Then one day when I was walking home for lunch (my mother insisted I do this everyday so she could feed me a high calorie meal to put some "meat on my bones," but walking to and from Colfax in a hour, with that big Darlington hill to mount, consumed more calories than lunch could provide), I saw an ambulance at Merrill's house and her mother, pale as death, was being wheeled out on a stretcher. In that moment I felt compassion for Merrill, my petty tyrant. When I went back to school after lunch, a lunch where I refused to eat my spaghetti because the red sauce reminded me of the bloodless pale that had just shaken me, I knew that Merrill didn't yet know her mother had been taken to the hospital. Merrill was pulled out of school later that afternoon. I walked home without fear, but not in peace. When I got to her house at the bottom of the hill she was outside on her porch with her younger sister, and her new baby brother in a carrier basket. I walked up to them and told Merrill I saw her Mother being taken to the hospital at lunchtime and I was sorry to know she wasn't well. Merrill told me she was home alone, in charge of her sister and her baby brother while her Dad was at the hospital. I asked if she knew how to take care of a baby. She shrugged. In that moment I grasped the challenges of Merrill and her family, her need to be tough, her likely imagining that my family in the house up the hill made it easy for me. I asked her if there was anything I could do to help her and told her to call my house if she needed anything. We hugged, bumping through forgiveness and fear and the torments of childhood.