Born: April 13, 1962.

Died: Feb. 22, 2009.

Survivors: wife, Susan Brower; mother, Betty Brower; sisters, Candy Zimmerman and her husband, Mike, Carol Berg and her husband, Larry, Karen McClure and her husband, Steve, Kathy Knezevich and her husband, Peter; many nieces and nephews. Predeceased by father, Arthur Brower.

I found this article in the St. Pete Times about Ralph - it is certainly worth the read.

Ralph Brower's compassion warmed those around him

 By Stephanie Hayes, Times Staff Writer
In Print: Sunday, March 1, 2009

TAMPA — When Ralph Brower watched Jackie Gleason's Poor Soul on television, water rimmed his eyes.

Ralph felt bad for the hard-luck character, a fellow who gave his only food away but still felt uplifted by losing a pound.

Ralph felt compassion.

Ralph was 3.

"He always had a tender heart," said his mother, Betty Brower.

When his sister poked him with a decorative ceramic fork, it broke in half. Rather than relieve himself of poking, he fetched model glue and fixed it.

When he was 9, he battled a bone disorder that kept him off his feet and out of school for four years. When he finally returned, he ran for class president.

He didn't win. But it was worth a try.

When he drank beer with friends parked in the family car one night, Ralph was terrified his mom would be upset. Later, a buddy secretly told mom that when they shared a sixer, responsible Ralph had the least.

When he was 19, he managed his college swim team. His friend wasn't fast enough to make the team, but he arranged to give him an official suit and shirt and let him take laps in the pool anyway.

When he met his wife in the 1980s, there was electricity, followed by terror.

"My heart just went wow," said Susan Brower. "Something clicked right there, almost instantaneous. He was petrified because he was horrible at asking people out. It took him weeks. It took every ounce of his entire being."

When they finally went out, they saw Top Gun. It's still her favorite movie.

When they were together, he was open like no man had ever been. He loved to snuggle, and he cried when she cried. When he talked, his face gave cues — a little smirk, a raised brow.

His hugs were famous.

"It was strong, but not," his wife said. "It was all encompassing."

When he played with his nieces and nephews, he swung them up and down, rolled with them on the floor. He pranked co-workers at USAA and HomeWise, insurance companies where he worked as a writer and product officer.

"He was quiet and reserved, but once you got to know him, he had a wicked wit," said his wife. "He was so funny. His sense of humor would just crack you up. It was spontaneous."

When he changed desks and moved away from an office friend, he taped a picture of himself in her line of sight so she wouldn't be sad. Another time, he filled a colleague's office with balloons.

When he wasn't working, he spoiled his beagle, Meyer. He wrote text for the book Historic Photos of Tampa. He improved local houses through Paint Your Heart Out, Tampa. He climbed the roof to do jobs no one else wanted.

He was afraid of heights.

When he discovered cholesterol issues, he changed his diet, drank tons of water and lived healthy for years. He bought a Nintendo Wii Fit. He walked his dog every weekend around his New Tampa neighborhood, Hunter's Green.

He had returned from a walk Feb. 22 when his wife discovered him and called 911. His heart had stopped. He was 46.

When friends and relatives gathered at his funeral, they filled every corner and shared stories. When they left, they felt strangely uplifted.

By JAMIE PILARCZYK
jpilarczyk@mediageneral.com

Ralph Brower, 44, became intrigued by the subject of history from his Robinson High School teacher, the late Newton Heuberger.

“He was one of those instructors who makes you fall in love with a subject. He made me see that history isn’t about dates and numbers, it’s about names and faces and stories,” said Brower. “I couldn’t help but attach myself to history.”

Brower said it was the personal touches Heuberger added, like the stories he told of playing pranks on the conductors of the light rail in Tampa, that grabbed his interest.

While Brower sells homeowner’s insurance professionally, he still pursues history as a hobby. Most recently, he was asked by Turner Publishing to write the text to accompany the more than 200 Burgert Brothers photos collected for “Historic Photos of Tampa.”

Published in late October and available now in most local book stores for about $40, Brower chronicles the history of Tampa by adding clips to each of the photos in the book.

“There are history books with photos splashed in,” said Brower about previous collections on the same theme. “This is a photo book with some history splashed in. This is a pure attempt to show the pictorial history of Tampa,” which in this book spans from the mid 1880s through the modern era.

The book was the brainchild of Turner Publishing, which has produced 32 in the series on different cities throughout the nation. The next to come out are on Minneapolis, Cleveland and Anaheim.

Photos are chosen by Turner Publishing and then a local librarian or writer is picked to add the details. For the Tampa book, finding the photos was unusually easy since the Friends of the Library own the Burgert Brothers collection, after purchasing it in 1974. The Burgert family had a studio on Jackson Street where three generations made their living in photography.

Through a friend in the Friends group who were familiar with Brower’s writing (he has written two novels that he is working to get published and does a lot of technical writing professionally), they connected Brower with Turner. Six weeks later, the book was done.

“I knew something of Tampa because I’ve spent most of my life here,” said Brower, who grew up in South Tampa but currently resides in North Tampa. “But, you think you know something until you start researching it. I spent a lot of hours researching, deciphering fact from legend.”

The experience made Brower appreciate events in the past and wonder about the outcomes if things like the Depression had not occurred.

“The Depression torpedoed the cigar industry. Machine-made cigars were cheaper than hand-rolled, so a lot of the industry moved to New York where it was less expensive,” said Brower, wondering how the face of Tampa would be different if the boom remained on Tampa turf.

Months later, after the research has been complete and his copy of “Historic Photos of Tampa” sits on his own coffee table, Brower said he is appreciative of the experience.

“The photos are so remarkable,” said Brower. “I walked away amazed.”