Everyone who knew Megan Charlop has a “Megan story.” Or a dozen. The longtime Norwood resident, who died in a tragic bicycling accident two years ago, touched hundreds, if not thousands, of lives as a community organizer, activist and health educator.

Last week, Megan stories overwhelmed the corner of Fulton Avenue and East 167th Street, which was re-named “Meg Charlop Way” by the city in honor of her life’s work.

Charlop’s good friend, Margaret Rogers, said she hoped the signage would encourage people to “live Meg Charlop’s way.”

Any number of people can relate this particular tale about her early years in the Bronx. It was Charlop’s way.

It begins amid the rubble, fire and abandonment that defined much of Morrisania, a south Bronx neighborhood so destitute and neglected that Hollywood turned it into a major studio film called “Fort Apache, the Bronx,” starring Paul Newman.

The name “Fort Apache” referred to the local 41st Precinct and gave the impression that the area was under siege. Though many residents protested against the film’s over-the-top depiction of crime and violence in the area, including Charlop, it was certainly one of the toughest, most dangerous parts of the Bronx during the 1970s. During that decade, the 41st Precinct averaged between 120 and 130 murders each year. (Five people were murdered in the 41st Precinct last year.)

By 1980, two-thirds of the area’s population had moved out. In 1976, Charlop, an energetic young college grad from Long Island, moved in. Working as a community organizer for The People’s Development Corporation, Charlop made a lasting impression.

Two years before she died, Charlop and her oldest daughter, Sarah, walked through the neighborhood to drum up support for a greenway project Sarah was working on. Residents they spoke with still remembered Charlop, Sarah said, three decades after she left.

Charlop, who lived on Fulton Avenue with her husband Richie Powers during the filming of the movie, had helped come up with a nine-block rebuilding plan for the neglected neighborhood on behalf of PDC and emerged as a community leader.

(A quick side “Megan story”: During this same time, ambulance response times lagged terribly. Even grievously injured people often waited more than a half hour for medical attention. A group of people working for a nonprofit called Plenty arrived on Fulton Avenue in a huge bus colored in psychedelic colors. They were there to set up an ambulance service and medical response team. But when the people got off the bus, looking like a rag-tag bunch of hippies who got lost on the way to a Grateful Dead concert, the locals went nuts. “Megan!” they shouted. “Who are these dirty people?” Charlop mediated, organizing a pow-wow between Plenty and residents. Eventually, the Plenty folks were accepted, saved hundreds of lives and shamed the city into devoting more resources to emergency response in the area.)

The “Fort Apache” filmmakers shot much of the movie in Morrisania, riling up residents who got hold of the script. At one point, they were attempting to film a scene in an abandoned lot where a building had been demolished, near what is now Meg Charlop Way. Charlop and other community leaders found out about the filming and forced their way onto the set. Leading the way, the short, red-headed Charlop convinced the movie’s producers that they were illegally filming on community-owned property, which, in fact, wasn’t true at the time.

But the producers relented and ended up writing a $15,000 check to the fledgling Rock Greening Association, a community land trust Charlop had helped establish. The association used the check as seed money to keep the abandoned lot, and others like it, in the hands of the community. Last year, that same lot became a lovely little piece of community space known as Estella Diggs Park. It’s named after the New York state Assembly’s first African-American legislator. Meg Charlop Way now watches over the park.

That story and others like it filled the air last week during the dedication ceremony, which was attended by around 100 people, including her family. Powers, Charlop’s husband who still lives in the Norwood home where they eventually moved after their time in Morrisania, said the street naming felt like “closing the circle” on Charlop’s life in the Bronx.

For all the good work Charlop did — from her early years as a community organizer to her later years working as a health educator with Montefiore Medical Center’s School Health Program — Powers said she never wanted acclaim or the spotlight.

“She would have been totally embarrassed” by the street naming, he said. “She would say, ‘It’s not about me, it’s about the people in the neighborhood.’”

Editor’s note: A version of this story appears in the May 17-30 print edition of the Norwood News.