Last week I received the sad news that my dear old friend Mrs.  Madsen passed away. Her name was Dorothy, but I always called her Mrs. Madsen and she called me “Cynthie”.  She was the only one who called me that.  She was 97 years old.   I had actually called her from a public pay phone right before this past Christmas and we talked for quite awhile. She said I sounded like I was next door! I said she sounded as strong as ever and she did. I will miss her.

 

Mrs. Madsen was one of the last of my parent’s Severna Park neighborhood friends.  I grew up with the Madsens. I learned to waterski behind Mr. Madsen’s classic Boston Whaler.   Mr. Madsen’s name was Elmer, but I also called him Mr. Madsen.  There is something about this that  I like.   I loved these people.   My family spent a lot of time at their house throughout the years. When I learned that Mrs. Madsen passed away,  found myself doing some serious reminiscing. Including visualizing the lay out of their house. I don’t know why,  but I did. The house had an attachment that at one time was a little apartment, and later became a sitting room. When I was in high school, my family moved back to Severna Park, from Pittsburgh.   We had already lived in Severna Park, Olde Severna Park to be specific, before. We moved to Pittsburgh in 1963.   My parents stayed in touch with their Severna Park friends.  Then we moved back to Severna Park when I was in 11th grade.  There had been some discussion about me going early, so as not to move right in the middle of a semester, and I would stay in the Madsen’s apartment. I was REALLY looking forward to this, but it didn’t pan out.  Still, it was great to move back to the same neighborhood, and still just barley 2 blocks away from the house where I was born. Even when we were living in Pittsburgh, we’d drive to Maryland nearly every weekend and stay on our family boat, the” Javee”, a 42 Chris Craft.  It was kept on the Patapsco river, and when we got to the boat, we would often cruise down the Bay to Annapolis and of course up the Severn to Sullivan’s Cove and visit the Madsens.   There we routinely crabbed, water skied, went out for moonlight cruises, worked on the boat, and walked to Dawsons for candy with the extended Madsen gang,  Eric, Keith, Karen, Mary Gale.  Memories that I will always have and always cherish.

When my Dad retired early from Dravo, he got a new engineering job with a smaller firm and was told he could live anywhere on the East Coast, as long as he was close to an airport. This was his chance to move back to the Chesapeake Bay!  First choice, Severna Park. Although we did look at houses in other neighborhoods, he felt the tug of the Olde Severna Park Beach.  How could he not? And the person responsible for finding us the right house was Larry Crane.   Also a friend from before.    I called him Mr. Crane.  He found us the perfect house on Lochleven Drive.  A short straight line walk to the beach, with 2 alternative longer walks also reaching the beach.  My Parents, Mr. and Mrs. Madsen and Mr. and Mrs. Crane spent lots of time together.   Mrs. Crane’s name was Bea, but I called her Mrs. Crane.  Our houses were often social gatherings, but the beach was the common  denominator that connected us all with such tight bonds. Every Christmas day my family would walk to the beach before dinner. With out planning, somehow we’d see either the Madsens or the Cranes, or everyone there, bundled up in winter coats and gloves. 

 

The Crane  family  is somewhat responsible for my being here in Portugal, on my boat today, having sailed across the Ocean.  I met Dave Crane, Mr. Crane’s youngest son,  when I was in high school.  He had a 38 ft. Camper Nicholson, a very sweet boat. I think the name was “Border Law”.  My Dad knew him already and explained to me that Dave had worked his way up the “boat ladder” from a skiff, to a beautiful sizeable seaworthy yacht.  My brain immediately started to calculate what I could purchase with my life savings of $500, to start my own boat ladder. And it wasn’t long after this that I bought my first Tenacity, a 50 year old (at the time) 28 ft. wooden yawl.  My boat soon was added to the social gathering places of my parents, the  Madsen's and the Cranes.   And although I loved that boat and had it for 13 years, I knew it was a stepping stone for a bigger boat one day.  To the current “Tenacity” that this past Summer, safely sailed across the North Atlantic!!  Top of the ladder in my book!

 

I don’t remember exactly what year Mr. Crane died , but it was a very very sad day. I remember my Mom crying in the kitchen in disbelief. He wasn’t that old.   And now Mrs. Crane was alone. But not deserted by any means. No way. She still had all her Severna Park friends and her terrific kids, and she still  threw  this humongous New Year’s Eve party at her house every year. It started early in the evening and went on a while past midnight.  People could come and hang for hours, or drop and in say hello. It was that kind of party.  All the Olde Severna Park People came. All ages!  It was a spectacular gathering.  Dave Crane , and later his wife Chris too,  always seemed to get the job of shucking oysters.   The Madsen's were always there. And their kids, and later grandkids.  Many generations, all having a good time. 

 

Then in 1978 my Mom got sick. She had cancer, a cancer that had actually returned. She battled it hard but couldn’t win. December 31,  1979  was a very difficult  New Years Eve.  We didn’t go to the Crane party.  My Mom was home but not doing well.   My family had still tried to  have a Christmas, my Mom’s favorite day, and she was awake for it.  She wanted us to have Christmas.  and then by New Years Eve, she had slipped into a coma, but still alive. My family was all there. We were trying to still live each day with some sense of “normality”. I made dinner for us.  It included broccoli. When we sat down at the table, my Dad made some comment about the broccoli not being fully cooked. Before he could finish trying to say “aldente”  I stomped out of the room, grabbed my coat, slammed the door on my way out, and hoofed it  to the beach, in fresh snow.  I was steaming mad at the world, at my Dad, and was crying like a fool. I stomped down the hill on the right side of the beach, trudged  along the water, pounded up the other hill  and  turned on Riggs Avenue.  I soon  saw the Crane House all lit up,   with cars lined up and down the street.  I figured it would maybe be nice to stop in a say hello.   Mrs. Crane opened the door and handed me an eggnog. “How’s your Mom?” They ALL knew about my Mom and were worried about here.  I was soon being hugged by every one, everyone so worried about my Mom.   Smothered with care and love.  From the whole gang, including Mr. and Mrs. Madsen, and also from Eric and Jan Madsen who were there .  Then the door bell rang and my Dad walked in!!  He felt so bad  about the broccoli comment that he went after me and followed my footsteps!   In the snow!!  Then he also had an eggnog in his hand (Mrs. Crane’s eggnog was not to be ignored)   After some visiting, my Dad and I left. No longer mad at all.

 

My Mom passed away the next morning.   Gosh I still miss her.

 

Later, I needed to check on my boat and get the heavy snow off, and I noticed someone had lowered my flag to half mast! It was Dave Crane!  I will never forget this.

  After the death of my Mom, we made it a ritual to not only go to the Crane party, but to go late and stay for midnight, and have a special toast to Mom.   At one of the more recent parties there, Robert and I stayed  late to help clean up.  It was down to the core. Eric and Jan Madsen, Larry Jr, Dick, Dave and Chris Crane and Mrs. Crane.   Bea.  What I had never learned before was that Bea Crane had been quite a singer in her younger days.  On this night she was, I believe, in her 80’s. And she was talking her singing days when she used to sit  on a lounge piano belting out torch oings. And not 5 minutes later, she was sitting on the piano bench, with a feathery red scarf around her neck belting out a torch song!!  And she was awesome!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

My Dad lived on until 1999.  He had a good life. But had  many  hardships along the way with his health. One time, he was working in Wilksburough PA designing a coal plant and I got a call that he had had a heart attack.   I was in college living in his house and was alone at the time of the call.  I made arrangements to go to PA, but couldn’t go until the next day. I hated being alone so I called the Madsens and they insisted I come and stay  overnight. They fed me, gave me some wine and made up  the comfy bed in the little apartment. It turned out not to be a heart attack, but it was still a scare and I was grateful for Elmer and Dorothy that night.

My Dad stayed close to what had become the Olde Severna Park Olde Farts. Well, us “kids”  called them that. I loved this gang of old guys. They would sit on their bench at the beach. They would still go out in their boats.   Mr. Madsen still had his whaler. My Dad had a Tiara, and then a Marathon. Much smaller boats than the Javee. All named “BOAT”.    Mr. Madsen’s whaler was in the same slip it had been in since I was born. He kept it at the end of the pier, next to the “Fletcher” dock, called this because it was my Dad designed and built it.  My Dad’s boat was across form Mr. Madsen’s boat. And that was the way it was.

Until there was a new Olde Severna Park Improvement Association President (OSPIA) voted in. My Dad had been president for 2 terms before. I don’t remember if Mr. Madsen was president, but he was on beach patrol with my Dad a lot and he all the Olde Farts had been very active in the whole beach and OSPIA activities.  And they were kind of over it by this point.   The had pretty much stopped going to the meetings. That is until new “new guy”, who happened to own a 35 ft. trawler , maybe a Mariner, came along.   He didn’t want to have to dinghy out to his boat that would be assigned to a mooring.  Nope, he wanted to just walk down the dock and hop on the boat.  But this meant changing the rules, which were generations old. No longer would the slips be assigned by seniority they would be assigned by size.  This meant that Mr. Madsen would have to either wade out to his whaler or drag into the water from the rack. And he was 80 years old!  So, when the Olde Farts got this new news, they gathered together and barged in at the monthly meeting, and demanded the slip arrangement stay the way it had been.  An Olde Fart Revolution!!  The “new guy” didn’t stand a chance against the Olde Farts. And the old guys won.

 

My Day passed away in 1999.  The gang was getting thin.  Mr. Madsen passed away next, and then Mrs. Crane. I apologize to those families for not having the dates in my head.  I do remember however going to Mrs. Madsen beautiful house right after she lost Elmer and sitting with her for a long time, talking and sharing memories.    And I will never ever forget Bea Crane singing on the piano. I remember her wake,  even remember what I wore to her service, but I am sorry I don’t remember the date. 

  And I will always remember the old beach and Severn  River days, with us all spending Summer days boating on the Round Bay, with the gang of Fletchers, Madsens and Cranes.   There were other beautiful friends of my parents that I also cherish still today.  But something about this Olde Severna Park gang   will always tug at my heart.  Even though we spanned several generations, the friendships were, and are, just as strong as ever.