About 15 years ago, Chloe Vaughan was working a slow day shift at Mt. Royal Tavern when a tiny woman with bright red hair and a flashy outfit waltzed through the door.

Fleur Le Faivre picked a song on the jukebox, then started dancing in the middle of the empty bar. She struck up a conversation with the bartender, whose name she somehow already knew. Vaughan nicknamed her ‘Fleurricane,’ “because she just came in like a whirlwind and had a big personality.”

Le Faivre, a lifelong Baltimorean, navigated much of life like that — floating through different places in the city, dancing whenever and wherever possible, and dressing up just because she could. She was a hippie with a big heart, friends said, who always showed up with a gift and would drop anything to help someone in need.

She rarely talked about her own troubles, even when she faced health and housing issues later in life. She was an eternal optimist who could always find the silver lining in a tough situation — something her friends are trying to do in her absence.

Le Faivre died in early January. She was unhoused at the time and found outside; her loved ones believe she may have died of hypothermia when overnight temperatures were in the 30s. The official cause has not yet been determined. She was 51.

“She wanted to know everybody’s story, and she was like that before and after she was homeless,” Vaughan said. “So many people were amazed by her, because despite her situation, she had a better attitude than people that had way more than she did.”

Le Faivre was born Jan. 20, 1973. She was an only child whose mother died of cancer when she was in elementary school, and her father — her best friend and inspiration — died when she was a teenager, friends said. She briefly lived with her stepmother, but that didn’t work out. So her friends became her family.

She met many of them at Dulaney High School. Elaine Sonntag, one of her closest friends at the time, said Le Faivre was the “skater chick” who wore wild clothes and lots of makeup. They spent evenings obsessing over the movie “Saturday Night Fever” and practicing dances in her basement.

Le Faivre later attended North Harford High School, where she decided to become a cheerleader — a move that was a little funny at the time because it was so opposite her skater persona, Sonntag said. But her dance skills were on constant display, and Le Faivre would teach her friend cheers and invite her to watch performances.

After high school, she briefly studied dance at community college, said Christina Stone-Gracey, another lifelong friend. The two had bonded over their love of art in high school, and they enjoyed watching the TV show “The Golden Girls.”

In the early 90s, the duo decided to hit the road together and follow the Grateful Dead on tour across the country. They made and sold jewelry at shows to pay for the next leg of their trip, and they always ended up leaving each show with someone new in the car, Stone-Gracey said.

Le Faivre could connect with anyone and everyone, and her love of life was evident, Stone-Gracey said. Once, while they were road-tripping, Le Faivre convinced a mechanic to exchange car services for her jewelry.

The two ended their road trip in California, where they lived together for about five years. But Baltimore was calling Le Faivre, so she moved back east and made money from odd jobs. Sometimes she waitressed, sometimes she tended the bar, sometimes she scheduled raves. She continued selling jewelry and learned to fire dance.

Le Faivre seemed to know just about every event happening in Baltimore, friends said. They’d often run into her at concerts and parties across the city.

“She was such an outgoing person that if she didn’t know your face in a party or in a room, she made sure she knew you before she left,” Stone-Gracey said.

Le Faivre was known by many nicknames. There was Fleurricane, of course, and also Fleurby, Flutterby and Foxy. But most of the time, she went by “Flower,” because that’s what her name meant in French and she thought flowers were beautiful.

“If you were willing to just have a conversation, she was willing to talk,” said Matt Benning, another lifelong friend. “That’s why people feel so strongly about her, because of that connection.”

Le Faivre became something of a homemaker when she started dating and living with her most recent boyfriend about a decade ago. She’d host her friends for coloring nights and post pictures online of her cat, Little Boy.

The relationship ended about five years ago when her partner moved to Florida. Le Faivre initially planned to go with him, but “her soul just couldn’t leave Baltimore,” Benning said.

“She knew who she was and she accepted who she was and she shined,” he said.

After the break-up, Le Faivre started sleeping on friends’ couches but also befriended unhoused Baltimoreans, loved ones said. She sometimes went to women’s shelters. Other times, she was on the street.

She’d always felt strongly about helping others and making sure everyone had access to basic needs. It was a passion and a set of values she inherited from her father, friends said. But now she was experiencing what it was like to be on the street firsthand.

Le Faivre struggled, especially when she began experiencing kidney issues and other health concerns. She saw those around her struggle, too — with food security, clean clothes, health care access, alcohol and drug use. She dreamed of a better future for all of them.

“It didn’t even matter what time of day, if it was first thing in the morning or late in the evening, if she saw somebody in distress, it was almost like a beacon for her,” Benning said. “She wanted to reach out to them.”

She was a constant presence at Good Trouble Church, a Lutheran congregation that includes many unhoused people. Church members organize community events and give away food, clothes and toiletries.

Le Faivre also had a designated street where friends would drop off necessities for her, but she was always handing them off to those who needed them more, said Leigh Erdman, the church chaplain.

Erdman last saw Le Faivre at a church event to make friendship bracelets. Le Faivre designed one with her many nicknames.

“She came by, and we were laughing,” Erdman said. “She was saying how it felt like she was a kid again.”

Le Faivre wasn’t done with life, her friends said. Stone-Gracey thinks she just went to sleep the night she died.

Her friends hope her death can call attention to the difficult situations faced by unhoused people and the lack of resources to support them. Le Faivre was working on a memoir, and she talked of opening a nonprofit to help women experiencing homelessness or abuse.

Le Faivre’s loved ones are in the process of scheduling a celebration of life for their exuberant friend. There will be music and dancing, because that’s what she would have wanted.

It will be held in the spring, when the flowers are blooming, and it’s not so cold outside anymore.

The Banner publishes news stories about people who have recently died in Maryland. If your loved one has passed and you would like to inquire about an obituary, please contact obituary@thebaltimorebanner.com. If you are interested in placing a paid death notice, please contact groupsales@thebaltimorebanner.com or visit this website.