Oct. 11, 1997
A LIFE STORY
Gentle spirit put peace, art first
OBITUARY:
Independent, loving Brittany Madore, 16, was wise
beyond her years.
BY ROBIN HINCH
The Orange County Register
She was one of the canyon kids — beautiful, free-spirited,
artistic and spiritual. She decorated her walls with her intricate line
drawings, dripped colorful candle wax down one wall. She liked to burn
incense while listening to James Taylor or The Doors.
Brittany Madore and her friends didn't hang out at malls,
didn't ogle surfers at the beach. They took long walks in the Silverado
Canyon wilderness just a few feet from their tree- and vine-shrouded homes,
picnicked and burned sage and shared secrets.
She was 16, and very much her own person. Sixteen, and
way too young to die.
Brittany died Wednesday, apparently of meningococcal meningitis.
She developed flu-like symptoms, then a rash. She was rushed to the hospital,
but the virulent infection had already raced through her slender body and
she died nine hours later.
The pain of her quick and sudden death contrasted sharply
with the bliss of her quick and easy birth. Brittany's mom, Susan, was
rushed to Chapman Hospital in Orange and gave birth to her third child
in just 12 minutes. It was a preview of life with one of those children
who instill only joy and pride in their parents.
She was thoughtful, helpful and well-meaning — independent
of thought and spirit, but never to the point of rebellion. Her pastimes
were peaceful ones — arts, crafts and dance. She'd started dancing when
she was 4, was on toe in ballet and also studied tap and jazz.
With an odd mixture of brambles brought back from her
canyon walks she would weave beautiful wreaths to decorate the house or
give to friends. She never bought a greeting card, and no one would have
wanted her to. Her handmade ones were so much better.
The 1,200 residents of Silverado Canyon are like a family,
and nearly everyone knew and loved Brittany, who grew up in the picturesque,
wooded canyon. They plan to change the name of Silverado Community Park
to Brittany Park in her memory.
A junior at El Modena High School in Orange, she was an
OK student, but a standout as a friend. She always tried to befriend the
kid others left out, or to buck up the student who seemed depressed. She
wasn't a campus activist, didn't join clubs or other extracurricular activities,
but everyone knew Brittany — the sweet girl with a ready smile and dancing
dark eyes.
School didn't really interest her all that much. She was
mature beyond her years, having grown up with siblings nine and 12 years
her senior. She felt more comfortable in the adult world. She loved the
canyon, and didn't like spending time in the city.
She said she wanted to be a masseuse. Dancing, she said,
was ``just for leisure.''
Material things took a back seat in Brittany's life. She
wasn't that interested in clothes (as long as she had her Dr. Martens 14-
eyelet lace-ups). She was in no hurry to get her driver's license, although
her interest was increasing with a neighbor's used car in the offing. If
money was to be spent, Brittany preferred to buy art materials.
Her drawings were fanciful, complex depictions of fairies
and colorful mushrooms or intertwined plants and animals. With clay she
sculpted stylized female nudes.
She had a gentle spirit that sought peace in every situation.
If her mother was crabby and barked at her, Brittany would ask, ``What's
wrong, Mom?'' and could always get her to talk things out.
Brittany knew no rancor, held no grudges. You could tell
that by the way she said goodbye. ``Love you!'' she'd tell her friends
or family as she sailed out the door.
Love you, too, Brittany.
She is survived by her parents, Susan and Steven; sister,
Lisa; brother, Casey; and grandparents, Delmer and Millie Morris, and Erma
and Gene Madore.
Services, under direction of Fairhaven Memorial Park and
Mortuary, Santa Ana, are at 1 p.m. today at Calvary Chapel of the Canyon,
Silverado Canyon.
Robin Hinch welcomes suggestions for life stories. Call
her at (714) 565- 6082 or send E-mail to robinh@link.freedom.com