Glenwood Springs Honors Margie Trebesh for Decades of Community Leadership

Margie Jane Trebesh didn’t just live in Glenwood Springs; she built a life there, one shift at a time.

It’s easy to look at an obituary and see a list of dates and titles. But for the folks who knew her, the story isn’t about the resume. It’s about the decision to move from Denver to Vail at age 11 because her dad loved skiing, then moving again to Glenwood Springs in 1968 to put down roots. It’s about the girl who worked at Valley View Hospital at 15, then the woman who became a shift supervisor for Mountain Bell, and finally, the community pillar who served as treasurer for her West Glenwood neighborhood HOA just five years before her death.

The obvious take on a life like this is that it was a series of stable, predictable steps. But the reality was more dynamic. She pivoted industries. She managed finances. She raised three kids in Canyon Creek while running a daycare and dabbling in real estate. She didn’t just retire; she kept working, serving as financial manager at Sunnyside Retirement Center, then jumping into local governance.

"She deeply loved her family," the family statement notes. "Not one to rest for long, she accepted the job as treasurer of her neighborhood HOA after moving to West Glenwood in 2019."

That detail matters. It wasn’t just about filling a role. It was about engagement. While many of our neighbors ease into retirement with gardening and cruises, Trebesh was handling HOA books and volunteering. She was present.

The facts support that conclusion. She was born in 1954. She graduated Glenwood Springs High School in 1972. She married Rob Trebesh in 1982. By 1987, they had three kids. That’s a lot of moving parts. And she did it while working. She started at Mountain Bell, stayed through the AT&T acquisition, then moved to Rocky Mountain Natural Gas. She wasn’t just an employee; she was a leader. Shift supervisor. President of ESA, a philanthropic sorority. President of the Glenwood Springs Lions Club.

The question is whether we recognize the value of that kind of steady, multifaceted contribution. We talk about "community leaders" in abstract terms. Trebesh was one. She won numerous awards for her dedication. She wasn’t just showing up; she was leading.

Her life wasn’t without its shifts. The family moved from Denver to Vail, then to Glenwood Springs. She went from ski racing and cheerleading to working at Dairy Kreme Restaurant, then to higher education at Mesa State College and UNC. She learned real estate. She owned a daycare. She managed finances at a retirement center. She was a generalist in a world that often demands specialists.

And she did it all while raising Clinton, Mitchell, and Megan. The family moved to Canyon Creek, a neighborhood that has changed significantly over the decades. Trebesh was there for the early years, the middle years, and the later years. She was there when she was 65, managing finances. She was there when she was 70, serving as HOA treasurer.

Her husband, Rob, survived her. So did their three children, daughter-in-law Leigh Ann, and four grandchildren: Hayley, Abigail, Sylvie, and Jacob. A brother, Gary Green, and a sister-in-law, Lea Kuklinski, also survived. A sister, Nancy, pre-deceased her.

The community will miss her competitiveness. It will miss her humor. It will miss the woman who could switch from pickleball to needlework to financial management without missing a beat.

As the family puts it, "Her devotion to friends and family is unparalleled and she will be missed immeasurably."

That’s the point. Not the titles. Not the awards. The devotion. The fact that she stayed. She didn’t just live in Glenwood Springs; she invested in it. We’ll see how much of that energy we lose, but for now, the community has a ledger to balance.