Marge Schott called no one by their names. Everyone was just
“‘Honey.”

The former Cincinnati Red’s owner died Tuesday at the age of 75.
Schott had been battling emphysema and osteoporosis–or as she
often referred to it, “that bone disease.”

With her death, the Big Red Machine lost its most memorable
icon, and the city of Cincinnati lost its biggest fan.

I once had the pleasure of meeting Schott. Actually, I was
assigned to “Schott duty.” A congressman I interned for was hosting
a major fund raiser for his re-election campaign. Vice President
Dick Cheney was scheduled to speak at the event. In other words, it
was a gathering of “Who’s Who in Cincinnati.”

Sept. 11, 2001, happened only months before, which meant
security was at its highest. Guests were forced to wait outside for
more than an hour while the Secret Service inspected the banquet
hall.

Midway through the safety procedure, as the donors were huddled
up in their fur coats and designer leather jackets, Schott arrived.
I ran to greet her, just as my job description entailed, and I
explained the security circumstances.

She wasn’t amused.

“Honey, what in the hell is going on?” she asked.

I did my best to explain.

She wasn’t satisfied.

“Honey, I’m going in. I pay way too much money to stand outside
and freeze my ass off,” she protested.

With that, she walked right by the Secret Service and entered
the building. Marge wasn’t polite. She was known for her frequent
social gaffes, among them, criticizing individuals who weren’t
WASPS.

Fortunately, she didn’t put her money where her mouth was.
Schott was married in 1952 and 16 years later, her husband died
from a heart attack, at the age of 42.

Marge was only 39 years old and without children. She was
devastated. Schott inherited her husband’s business, one of
Cincinnati’s largest used car dealers, Schott Buick.

After her husband’s death, General Motors tried revoking the
firm, claiming it couldn’t be run by a woman; but Schott’s father,
Edward Unnewehr, had taught her differently.

Unnewehr treated Schott like the son he never had and frequently
took her to work with him. Her persistent attitude and feisty
nature earned her the nickname “Butch.” Butch eventually beat
General Motors and successfully ran Schott Buick for 36 years.

Although her 90-acre, $4 million, Tudor-style mansion might have
appeared pompous, Marge was anything but showy.

Schott gave money away to children she never had. She donated a
20-classroom facility, gym and athletic field to an all-girl,
private school. She gave $100,000 to the Cincinnati Academy of
Physical Education.

The school, which was predominantly African-American, was for
disadvantaged female athletes who wanted to attend college. Schott
believed in the cause.

Marge also loved animals, particularly her two St. Bernards,
Shottzie 01 and Schottzie 02. The canines were always present in
the front row of Cinergy Field, being led on a red leash and
sporting a Reds bandana.

After Schottzie 02 died in 2002, Schott was so devastated that
she doubted she would ever get another dog. Instead, she made
numerous contributions to the Humane Society and the Cincinnati
Zoo. Schott donated $6 million to an elephant program at the zoo
and was even allowed to “borrow” the elephant for the Reds opening
day parade.

The politically correct didn’t care much for Schott and
understandably so. She defined the words “politically
incorrect.”

But she lived her own life.

She relished in her vodka and water cocktails, and despite her
horrible case of emphysema, she smoked Carltons by the carton.

Marge did things the way Marge wanted to do them.

If only we all could say the same.

Marge, your 75 years were memorable to say the least.

Here’s to you, Honey.