Roberta Charlotte Pevear

Hampton Falls - Roberta Charlotte Gibson Pevear, of Hampton Falls and Exeter, New Hampshire, formerly of Western Maine, and appropriately born on Independence Day, passed away peacefully — though not quietly — leaving behind a legacy of sharp wit, sharper intelligence, an organizational system so precise it may never be fully decoded, and several drawers of carefully saved items that absolutely could not be thrown away for reasons that were extremely valid and are now, unfortunately, lost to history. Born in Maine with two gifts that would define her life: a mind like a steel trap and absolutely no patience for nonsense (unless, of course, she was cheating at cards), she could survive winter, bureaucracy, and the incompetence of others with equal resilience. Her brain at 95 was sharper than most of ours in our thirties, and she knew it, though she was too dignified to say so more than occasionally. She studied art at Gould Academy before embarking on a career with Anheuser-Busch, Johnson & Johnson, and Sears-Roebuck. She brought the same precision to every desk she sat at that she later brought to the State House floor, serving from 1979 to 1988. She was a proud member of the National Order of Women Legislators, Daughters of the American Revolution, and the Exeter Rod and Gun Club. A genealogy afficionado, she authored Write Quick: War and a Woman’s Life in Letters, and received numerous awards. She read everything. Not skimmed. Read. Every word. Every comma. She was known to ask questions so precise that lesser-prepared individuals suddenly remembered urgent appointments elsewhere. She was a paladin for her constituents and took particular interest in energy policy, to include her inexorable advocacy against nuclear power plants. If you needed honest advice, she was the one you called, as she never held back. She loved people fiercely and without condition, regardless of where they came from or what they believed, so long as they had a good heart. She had an impish laugh that arrived without warning and lit up every room. Her personality was entirely her own —and no one who ever met her forgot her. Her great refuge was Rangeley, Maine — a place she loved with her whole heart. She ate bologna sandwiches and boxed macaroni and cheese for years to afford it, and never once considered that a sacrifice. It was worth every bite. She loved that place, and the man she shared it with — Eddie — with a devotion that was complete and unwavering, and only parted with it so that she could use the funds to care for her beloved husband. Her philosophy on life was simple and unimprovable: God is good, but he likes to be thanked, you know. She meant it. She lived it. She imparted it to the rest of us. She improved every room she entered, making people smarter, tougher, and better simply by knowing her. And if something didn't fit, she always knew exactly what to do: fold it in half. In her final chapter, Roberta demonstrated the same stubborn independence that defined her entire life. To the end, in one last act of perfectly calibrated defiance, she would accept only her beloved Werther's Originals — because one does not abandon quality simply because one is leaving the premises. In leaving this world, she reminded us that she would still be watching our every move, this time as a monarch butterfly. She is survived by her beloved daughter, Kelleigh Charlotte Gleason; her cherished grandchildren, Lexi Tenley, Aidan August, and Finian Andrew; and her loving nieces, Kristin (her great-nieces, Katie May and Beth; her great-nephew, Jimmy, and his wife, Lizzie) and Koral (her great-great-niece; her husband, Joe; and her great-great-great-nephew, Benjamin); her adored nephew, George; her dearest friend, Ann Gatcomb; and extended family and friends too numerous to count. She is reunited on a mountainside camp in the sky with the love of her life, Eddie; her Perfectly Indestructible Pup ‘PIP;’ her nephew, Ira; her siblings, Frank Albert, Jeannette Estelle, Verna Frances, and Marie Elizabeth; her joyful and loving parents, Frank Albert and Thirza Estelle; and countless friends and family who came before, all of whom no doubt have already heard her thoughts on how things have been managed in her absence. She was loved. She was formidable. She was the earliest of trend-setting feminists, and she will be celebrated for her vivacity for generations to come. In lieu of flowers, plant something bold. Make something beautiful. Turn on some 1940s Evening Radio and dance in the kitchen. Dream a little dream of her. Say something honest. And if possible, make it funny. She would have liked that. Calling hours will be on Sunday, March 15, from 11am-1pm at Remick and Gendron in Hampton, New Hampshire. A funeral mass and burial will be held in the Spring in Bethel, Maine.

Roberta Charlotte Pevear

July 4, 1930 - March 5, 2026