Marjorie Sanders Wicker, 77, passed away peacefully at her daughter's home on Friday, September 13,
2024. Visitation is Monday, September 16, 2024 at 9:00 am until services at 11:00 am at JJ White
Memorial Presbyterian Church in McComb where the Reverend Cassie Alston will officiate.
Margy left explicit instructions about the way she wanted to be remembered. To no one's surprise, she left
notes.

Margy was born on September 3, 1947, being born a "Wednesday Child full of Woe", as she often liked to
remind us, to parents Thomas Mixon Sanders and Gladys Ray Baker Sanders. She was most proud of
the fact that she was born after 4:00 pm making it convenient for her Daddy to not have to take a day off
from work, thus not losing any money. Her daddy was a machinist for the Illinois Central Railroad, and
her mother was a registered nurse with the McComb City Hospital. Her paternal grandparents were
Thomas and Mary Mixon Sanders of McComb, MS and maternal grandfather Isaac Baker of Baton
Rouge, LA. Her maternal grandmother died in childbirth, and she always regretted never knowing her
maternal grandmother's name.

Margy was married three times. Judieth Hope Lambert Passman is her only biological child and was the
light of her life. Her second AND third husband was Paul Richard Wicker, who shared his daughter Laurie
Ruth Wicker and son Kenneth John Wicker with her. Margy has three wonderful grandsons, Richard Paul
(Rocky) Wicker, John Richard (Jake) Passman, Jr. and Thomas Lambert (Bert) Passman.
She is survived by three children: Laurie and her spouse, Jean; Kenny; Judi; and grandsons, Rocky and
wife Nicole; Jake and wife Addie; and Bert; her sister Mary Mixon Sanders Spurgeon; nephews Joseph
Spurgeon, David Michael Hutson and wife, Sarah; grandniece Annabelle Baker Hutson, and a very
special cousin Ginny Smith Phillips; along with many friends including life long friends from the McComb
High School Class of 1965.

Margy was preceded in death by her parents, Tom and Gladys Sanders, husband, Paul, sister Judy
Hutson, niece Holly Spurgeon, wonderful son-in-law, Rick Passman, special dogs Mindy and Jack,
several fantastic cats, and too many wonderful classmates from the McComb High School Class of 1965.
Margy spent most of her career working for Farmers Home Administration where she loved helping local
farmers. It made her day to run into one of "her farmers". After retiring from the federal government, she
went to work for Keith Lott at Neel-Schaffer where she enjoyed working with so many in the local city
governments and learning all about engineering and building bridges. Also, while at Neel-Schaffer, she
scoured the daily papers looking for photos and articles on local students to cut out, laminate and send to
the aforementioned student. Margy also had a love of anything creative and later in life took art lessons
from Roger Lawrence, photography lessons from Ted Jackson and also spent some time behind a
potter's wheel. She loved attending her grandsons sporting events with not one, but 2 cameras and
several lenses, always trying to get the perfect pictures of the boys and their teammates. She shared her
love of photography with these kids by making photo books for many.

Margy also had a passion for traveling with her family and friends. She had the opportunity to travel the
world with her favorite destination being the small island of Palau in the South Pacific. She was in Venice
during a rare snowfall; visited the European Christmas markets by train; strolled the streets of Edinburgh
with her neighbor and good friend Pat Robertson; got stranded in Hawaii with her grandson, Bert; rode
elephants into the River Kwai in Thailand; climbed the hills of San Francisco with her grandson, Jake; and
enjoyed so many wonderful trips with her daughter, Judi. Their last trip being a fall trip to New England to
see the leaves and covered bridges while eating lobster on the Atlantic.
Margy lived a life well lived and true to her poem, passed away peacefully.

There comes a time when I must go,
But not in Winter days with cold and snow,
And not in Spring when everything blooms as if on a dare
Nor in Summer when it's too hot to care.
Let me go in Fall, when the leaves are turning gold,
The air is crisp and the earth not yet cold.
Margy Wicker