5 minute read
Mary Perez, Walking Woman
photo by Rachel Berenson Perry
~by Rachel Berenson Perry
Some people are born organizers and Mary Perez is one of them. “I always wanted to be really good at something, like playing an instrument or singing—an expert at one thing,” she said, as she sat at my dining room table. Her diminutive frame and pixie-like face are reminiscent of a wood sprite. “I’d have to say that organizing people would be it.”
Many have benefitted from Mary’s expertise by participating in the Walking Women of Brown County, an open group of dedicated hikers that has existed since 1999. Inspired by a Chicago hiking group and initiated with a few notices in the local grocery store and library, the outings have been as simple as taking a trail in the state park and as complex as hiking the Wyoming Wind River Mountains with llamas carrying gear.
In its heyday, Mary produced a monthly Walking Women newsletter with write-ups of past excursions and an upcoming itinerary of as many as three monthly hikes and annual spring and fall road trips.
“The group expanded to Bloomington, mostly through their Newcomers Group, as well as women from Columbus, Seymour, Spencer, Martinsville, and even Chicago. We could have three or four on a walk up to sometimes 25,” she said, adding that Walking Women still exists on a small scale. A summertime gathering at a member’s CordrySweetwater home and the annual Christmas Walk in downtown Nashville continue to draw long-time friends for strolls augmented with pitch-in meals.
“The best things about Walking Women have been finding new places to walk and being out on the trails. I love being behind everyone, looking ahead and seeing a line of women walking, talking, being out in nature. And the friendships that have formed over the years have been irreplaceable. Something I didn’t even think about happening. And it happened, I must say, mostly from the casual way it was organized. There were no expectations, no responsibilities— you just showed up and went for a walk. And what happened on that walk was an outcome of us just being together.”
Some say, “once a social worker, always a social worker,” and the adage fits Mary well. In addition to organizing Walking Women, Mary has arranged outings to the Phoenix Playhouse and Dance Kaleidoscope performances in Indianapolis for members of the “Green Room” (a group that meets weekly to discuss current issues); participates in yearly trail maintenance at Big Bend National Park in Texas; serves as the collection point for items to go to charities; distributes farm eggs for a neighbor; and makes “fire starters” (handy igniters made from candle wax and dryer lint in individual cardboard egg carton cups) for Mother’s Cupboard and St. Vincent DePaul.
Summer Sweetwater Day 2022. Back Row: Brenda Green, Anne Delano, Gillian Harris, Ingrid Beery, Dani Korsen Front Row: Mary Perez, Jan Minton, Betty Wagoner, Katy Ratcliff, Janet Kramer, JoAnne Hamilton, Carol Phillips. courtesy photo
When Brown County Moonwalkers were still active, she hosted the group every February, when hikers tramped a snowy trail to see the moon reflected off her frozen lake. For those gatherings, the fare was always “stone soup,” when everyone brought various foods (raw veggies, rice, and beans) to throw into a soup pot that simmered into a delicious hot meal by hike’s end.
Raised on an Iowa farm, Mary earned a BA in sociology at the University of Iowa, then took off for a job in Chicago with Public Aid to Dependent Children. Her first job as a social worker required her to visit clients unannounced each month to check on family situations.
“There were roaches, bedbugs, kids running around without diapers. It was an eye-opener for a dumb farm kid. All of us [social workers] talked about how we would sit down in those places [to avoid the bugs]. First of all, you tried to find a wooden chair, not overstuffed.
“And the streets were not considered safe. But people would see me—a white kid carrying a clipboard—and know immediately that I was the caseworker. So, they left me alone.”
Perez earned her MA at University of Chicago and later became a school social worker for many years before beginning to feel burned out.
“My kids were grown. I’d seen too many people stay in a job when they should get out. I’d been visiting a friend who’d moved to Brown County. And I got to thinking this would be a wonderful place to live. I put my house up for rent and drove away, leaving my son in the driveway. I had no idea where I was going to live.”
After a failed attempt to buy property in 1986, Perez found acreage close to the Jackson County line with a beautiful lake and no structures. She checked with her soon-to-be partner, David, and he said, “Go for it!”
They rented a nearby shack overrun with mice and cockroaches while building their new home. Now surrounded by colorful flower beds leading out to a roomy boat dock, she can’t imagine living anywhere else.
