Marvin "Preach" Webb, sat in the lobby of the Madison County Court House, Edwardsville, waiting for his "girlfriend", Judy Steele , Madison County Assistant States Attorney, to come by and talk to him. He gave her the flower she holds in her left hand . (Wayne Crosslin/P-D)

No one's really sure when Preach started showing up along Main Street in Edwardsville. He has simply and always been there.

"Taking care of the streets, yeah. Me and the cops," said Preach, whose given name is Marvin Webb, but you could wait a long time to hear someone use it. "That's my job. Taking care of the streets."

Preach is 68. But that is his body's age. His soul and mind are much younger, giving him an innocence and wonder that skips right past sad and goes straight to sweet.

His birthday was Jan. 12, and Preach spent most of his day thanking everyone for their good wishes. That was an all-day affair, because you have to understand one thing about Preach and Edwardsville: Everyone knows him. Not almost everyone, or virtually everyone. Everyone.

"They'll put up a statue of him someday, I'm certain of that," said Kari Eaker, a stylist at Eaker's Barber Shop, a third-generation business along Edwardsville's Main Street. "He was walking Main when my grandfather was here, then my father and now me.

"I just don't ever remember Preach not being around," said Eaker, 27, who gave the same answer as did two dozen other people ranging in age from their teens to their 70s.

How long has Preach been doing what Preach does?

"Forever."

"Always."


Main man on Main



More or less, this is Preach's routine: Sometime about 9 a.m. every morning, Preach leaves his home on the north end of town, where he lives with his brother James.

"I've got my own room, with a TV," he said.

He walks up to Main Street past the police station and stops at Weber Funeral Home, where he picks up funeral cards for upcoming services. He stays on the east side of Main until he hits the center of downtown. He crosses over to get a cup of coffee at Sacred Grounds. Then he stops at Eaker's, two doors away.

"I give him the mail every morning and he takes it out to the box and puts it in for us," said Tom Eaker, Kari's father. "He does errands and things for a number of the businesses, mail letters or make a delivery."

Preach then heads off to August Gardens flower shop to get a carnation. Owner Judy Knapp will pin one to his lapel, a standard part of his wardrobe. Eventually, he will give it to a "girlfriend."

Preach dresses in neat, clean clothes, courtesy mostly of Imber's Men's Wear. In the winter, he wears a stocking cap. In the summer, he wears ball caps.

"He's got a million ball caps," said Jerry Legow, 85, an owner of Imber's. "He gets them from the politicians. He's a political independent, because he wears them all. He plays no favorites."

About 10 a.m., Preach will head to the Madison County Courthouse. He is known by the clerks, guards, politicians and deputies. On his birthday, he sat on his favorite first-floor bench and basked in birthday wishes.

"Where's Bob?" Preach asked one deputy about the whereabouts of another.

"He's upstairs," came the response.

After a minute or two, Preach asked the deputy, "Where's Bob?"

"He's upstairs, Preach," the deputy said patiently. Preach doesn't ask again.

Preach likes to say things twice. But he is a bit stingy with words to a stranger asking questions.

"Never went to school. No. Never went to school," Preach said when asked about his youth. "Never rode a bike. Never been on a bike."

When pressed, Preach said, "I take care of the crowd" at the Halloween parade. And, "I take down chairs" after summer concerts in Library Park.

He nervously checked his Elvis watch. Preach is a huge Elvis fan. His stocking cap has a patch bearing the name "Elvis" sewn to it. He keeps a wallet-size photo of Presley in his front pocket. Why does he like Elvis so much?

"He sings for all the girls."

Preach doesn't leave the courthouse until he sees his "girlfriend," who in reality is Assistant State's Attorney Judy Steele.

"He's such a sweetheart," Steele said, then winked and revealed that Preach may have other girlfriends around town.

When asked about this, Preach protests in a voice a lot higher than usual, and a bit louder.

"Just one girlfriend," he said. "Just one. I have one girlfriend."




Stopping by the office




Elvis said it was 11 a.m., so it was time for Vanzo's, a tavern where Preach eats lunch every day. Vanzo's has been Preach's lunch stop for years, but it has become his unofficial headquarters ever since Schwartz Drugs closed down in 1997.

"Preach never misses lunch here," said Samantha Schwalb, 33, a bartender at Vanzo's for 12 years. No one charges him, but he neatly places a dollar bill next to his plate as a tip. One of the cooks sees Preach at the bar and calls out.

"Hey, Preach, I made a pie for your birthday. Are you coming back tonight?"

"I'll be here. Yeah. I'll be here," Preach says, then gets a serious tone. "But I'm not working tonight. It's my birthday. I'm not working."

Schwalb said Preach's night job is walking up and down Main to make sure the doors that should be locked are locked.

"He's not kidding around about his jobs," she said. "He takes them very seriously. If you doubt him, he'll show you his badge."

Sure enough, Preach has an Edwardsville police badge and a card from the Madison County state's attorney's office that shows him to be an "honorary assistant." The mention of the badge prompted Tom Eaker to tell one of his favorite Preach stories.

"It must've been the early '70s, '72 maybe," said Eaker, as he trimmed a head.

Eaker said an inmate at the old county jail, which was along Main, set fire to a mattress and tried to escape. It was late afternoon, and the regular traffic, mixed with the firetrucks and police cars, caused quite a jam.

"Well, here comes Preach holding up his tin badge, and he jumps out in the intersection and starts directing traffic - and did a helluva fine job, kept it all moving," Eaker said. "The cops finally get there and think, 'Geez, we got to get Preach out of there,' so they take over. Well, it doesn't take them any time at all to get it all screwed up. People were laughing and yelling at the cops, 'Better let Preach do it.'"

Preach's parents, Johnnie and Lillie Webb have passed away, Legow said.

"I attended both of their funerals. I think Preach was glad to see me there," he said. "Now 'Papa' Johnnie - Preach always refers to them as Mama Lillie and Papa Johnnie - was a maintenance man, a janitor, at old Butler Chevrolet, worked there for years. Lillie stayed at home with the kids."

Preach and his brother live in the same small, white, frame house where they grew up. Legow said there was another brother and a sister, but he does not know where they are now.

Legow said, "I don't remember Preach as a small kid, and I don't know of anyone who does."

The head Eaker was cutting while he told the traffic story belonged to Ollie Wilhold, a lifelong resident of Edwardsville. He had the earliest recollection of Preach, when he was about 15.

"I remember him back in 1951, my senior year in high school" Wilhold said. "I was on the basketball team, and he would come to the games. He'd tell people he was in charge of keeping people from running out on the court."




Living cool, loving 'free'



After lunch and his visit to Imber's, Preach retraces his steps and revisits stores before heading home about 3:30 or 4 p.m. This wasn't always the case. For years, before Edwardsville High moved several miles away, Preach would be in front of school every day at dismissal.

"And all those years, until the school moved, he never missed a single home basketball game or football game," Imber's Legow said. "He was at every one handing out programs."

Preach will reappear for his night shift about 6 p.m.

"What's really funny is that Preach has a different personality at night," Schwalb said. "He'll flip up the collar of his shirt and he wears sunglasses, no matter what time it is. He has his 'cool' thing going."

At night, Preach is a regular at Vanzo's and Laurie's, another tavern. Both places feature the More Pleasure Band, which allows Preach to sit in for a song.

"Preach likes to do his Elvis, so he'll sit in with the band," Schwalb said. "Actually, he just keeps singing one line over and over. Sounds like 'goin' to Kansas City' or something like that."

Preach's emulation of the King actually earned him his first nickname.

"I was shining shoes for my dad back in 1957 and people called Preach 'Elvis,' because he'd do this little dance thing where he'd wiggle his hips and shake his leg," Eaker explained.

Eaker and Legow said Preach's routine of visiting businesses didn't start until later, sometime in the mid-1960s.

Legow said Webb's now-famous nickname does not, as some rumors have it, come from having a relative in the clergy.

"Years ago, Preach used to go to the Mount Joy Baptist Church every Sunday," Legow said. "He'd stand outside, greet people, help hand out booklets. So everyone took to calling him 'Preach.'"

Legow said Preach stops in to see him every day.

"We go through this routine," Legow said. "I ask him what he's done, and he recaps his morning. I explain the funeral card to him. Preach can't read or write, so I tell him who died and who the pallbearers will be and all that. He gets upset if it's a child. He doesn't like that.

"I ask him how much his coffee cost him, and he says, 'Free.' Then I ask him how much his flower cost, and he says, 'Free.' Then I ask him how much was lunch, and he'll say, 'Free'.

"He just grins real wide when he says it," Legow said, doing the same thing. "Preach loves saying the word 'free.'"

Legow is master of ceremonies for the Halloween Parade, and he said Preach rides in the convertible with the mayor.

"He gets the most applause, without a doubt," Legow said. "Everyone goes crazy."

Legow, who saw the worst of humanity as a World War II veteran and a guard at the Nuremberg Trials, knows Edwardsville is good to Preach. He also knows that Preach is good for Edwardsville.

"We take care of him, and that's good for him and us," Legow said. "He gives us the opportunity to be kind. No one in town would ever hurt Preach."

Schwalb said, "I'd hate to think of what would happen to anyone who did."


A coat for the cold


As if trying to select one story that speaks to the heart of the town's bond with Preach, Legow mentioned the winter jacket Preach was wearing on his birthday, with "Madison County Transit" sewn on the breast.

"Preach told Jerry Kane, the head of MCT, that he liked those coats," Legow said. "So he told Preach he'd order him one for Christmas. But it never came in, and Preach finally asked what happened. Well, Kane took his jacket off and gave it to him. They were the same size, so he took it right off and gave it to Preach."

But with every birthday, concerns grow.

"Preach is slowing down some," Legow said. "He had a problem with his leg a while back and had to go in the hospital. I don't know what would happen if he had to go in a home."

But on his birthday, Preach was only concerned with what he was going to do between his work shifts.

"Go home," he said. "Yeah. Go home, maybe eat some chicken. Watch TV. Yeah, watch TV. I like stories."

Well then, Preach, happy birthday.



Reporter Joe Holleman
E-mail: jholleman@post-dispatch.com
Phone: 314-340-8254