Comments:
At times the obvious blinded us to the important. In our yearbook’s pages of seniors many biographical notes are sparse—a few pleasant comments, no club affiliations, as if this is someone who was run of the mill. Take Arlene Jeannette Maass. “Glee Club 1” is her only school activity. The bio says, “Quiet miss with a pleasant personality . . . friendly toward everyone . . . snobby, conceited people don’t set right with her . . . just loves a good time . . . after graduation any kind of work will suit this gal.”
We missed her real character. I can tell you what I think we missed in Arlene by telling you about her husband. Arlene married Kerry Weber, two years older than her. I remember him from grade school as a tough, wiry guy. I never knew him well, but I remembered him well because he beat the crap out of me one day when, for reasons now forgotten, we got into a fight in Prospect Park over something to do with a ball game. Kerry remained a tough guy with a good business head who built a successful business in heavy construction, driving tons of steel bulkheads along the shorelines of Long Island. He was obviously a tough guy with a soft heart who saw in Arlene a strength most of us missed.
Arlene’s good friend Bette Gildersleeve also saw that quiet strength. She was the right person for Kerry, Bette says and their marriage worked out well. “Arlene was my very best friend through high school.” She was very, very kind, very giving. If you had a problem, you could talk to Arlene and you felt better. She was there for you.”
Arlene and Kerry and had two children and four grand children before she died. “Arlene’s life was her family and our home,” One Sunday, Kerry remembers, he took Arlene out to buy for her the BMW she always wanted. The dealership was closed, so they went to the Buick dealer across the street and he found himself buying a “new fancy Buick” that she liked but disappointed him greatly. They always used his Chevy work car for their Maine vacations together. Kerry had a chance to sell the Buick a year later. “Arlie was heartbroken.” Kerry conspired with a friend to fill the void. One Sunday when they were out driving, Kerry drove past a Lincoln-Mercury dealership where his friend worked and asked Arlene if she wanted to stop in, say hello, and look around. She decided she liked the Mercury Cougar in the front window. “We’ll take it,” Kerry told his friend. This became Arlene’s favorite, and perhaps for that reason she refused to drive it farther than Roslyn Bridge or Rt. 25A. “Those were her boundaries,” Kerry said. Her daughter-in-law whom she grew as close to as a daughter, became her shopping companion as Arlene made her regular forays to find clothes for her kids that would hold up to their active lives.
When Arlene was diagnosed with breast cancer in the late 1980s, they sought out the best doctors they could find. The cancer seemed to go into remission for 2 years and they celebrated what they thought was a victory. Then X rays found spots in her lungs. Again they went to the specialist, including Dr. Atkins in New York City where Kerry says, “It cost me $500 to walk through the door.” They knew they had a serious fight and grim prospects. Kerry’s life was driving heavy machinery and installing hundreds of tons of sheet steel bulkheads in difficult environments, but when it came to family tragedy, he says, “Arlie was so much braver than I was. They showed us the X rays and her lungs looked like snow.”
Arlene asked the doctor, “How much time do I have?” The answer was four to six months. Kerry took her to Virginia for her birthday. The cancer was already crippling her and she apologized constantly for holding him back as they visited special places.
I asked Kerry what he was going to do in retirement, go fishing? No, “I got 36 fishing poles but I haven’t wet a line in 26 years.” He has a hunting license and a good selection of shotguns and rifles, and used to go to Maine to hunt. That’s finished too. “I don’t have any interest in killing anything,” he says. “We got a family of raccoons that comes around and we feed them.” Arlene is gone but Kerry says, “I’m still angry.” And it’s clear that Arlene left with him not only a good family, but a deeper appreciation of life itself.
