Memories of Mark

To PeePaw

I am Colten Blueridge Johnson, Marks only grandson. He was a great man. I know we all mourn over his passing and that a lot of people love him. I know he is looking down on us all smiling knowing how much we loved him. So Pee Paw if you are listening I want you to know you couldn't have been a better grandfather.

When I think of him, I think of cleverness, curiosity, jokery and a man of his word. I think he is clever because he can over explain things and he had so much wisdom. Pee Paw is more curious than a monkey. When he didn't know what something was, he searched by book and internet.

Oh the jokes he and I use to play, like when I was five or so, he would always tell me to give Mom a sloppy kiss for him, she never did like it. He never broke a promise to me, before he passed on he said that he would come to Texas as soon as possible. So now he is able to so his ashes shall be scattered at our house. So he would never have broken a promise.

May Mark Colen, my Pee Paw, sleep peacefully

Colten

reMarks

We lived in NY, Mark at 53 E 95th and me at 101 W 72nd. It was only slightly more than 2 miles as the crow flies but in our case the crows either walked or took public transportation. If memory serves (ha!) it seems to me that more often than not we hoofed it across Central Park to visit one another. Because we both lived within a block from the Park, it was really a pleasant trip. We could, and often did, stop at the Museum of Natural History (on 79th St) or the Metropolitan Museum of Art (on 86th) The subway was another option and, at only a nickel, was affordable. As NY kids we were street smart, and since we took the subway to school every day, we were pretty knowledgeable about public transportation. (A side note: during the war years I worked as a delivery boy for Bersil Apothecary, which specialized in homeopathic prescriptions and I used to travel throughout Manhattan making deliveries and picking up items we didn't have at other pharmacies)

As I recall, we often went to Mark's Dad's place, the Italian Kitchen on 14th Street, where I had my first introduction to pizza. Perhaps the most memorable incident was during the Blizzard of 47 when I was lucky enough to be spending the night at Marks. Meta had her girlfriends over and Mark's Mom stayed up all night playing traffic cop to keep us all separated.

We somehow both managed to graduate in January of '48 even though our Mom's seemed to have spent more time at BHSS then we did. I have our yearbook pictures that I'm going to post later today. After graduation we still stayed close and spent many happy times in Nanuet where the Colen's had a cabin. Mark and I would often tell our folks we were spending the night at one anothers and would then sneak off to Nanuet.

Renee and I were married in August 1952 with Mark as my best man. For our 50th anniversary, the kids put together a photo album and, as soon as I lay my hands on it, I'll post pictures of Mark. Probably later today or tomorrow.

The world is going to be a less fun place. He will be missed.

Edwin Steinberg