EULOGY for MAX WILLIAM CRONK (1926-2014)
Max once told one of his grandchildren that he started working when he was nine years old picking beans for a penny a pound, but that he seldom made a dollar a day because he ate too many of the beans.
I remember the day the phone rang and it was dad. It was the week after his mother's funeral. "Hello," he said. "Yeah….I just wanted to call to let you know….that's the end of that generation, we're next, and then it's your turn. That's what I called about." And then he hung up. Those of us who knew Max can picture the twinkle that was in his eye when he called, and the slight smile on his face. He had a great sense of humor that could take you by surprise because of how quiet he was. He was also the master of one-liners. I remember when his daughter Mary and I got engaged. I never did ask dad for her hand in marriage, so you can only imagine what was going through my head when he asked me to step outside after we told the family the news. When we got outside, he pointed and said, "The ladder is in the garage, but I can leave it outside, and her window is the one right up there." Then he smiled and chuckled. Another time, when we were fishing up in Canada, a member of our group had a hook in his leg. Dad helped yank it out with some pliers from his tackle box, but lost his grip. When the skin snapped back with an echo of, "Ohhhhhhh God that hurt," dad had that sly twinkle in his eye when he said, "I didn't feel a thing."
Dad was a rare combination of quiet and social – he loved to be around people. He enjoyed walking the mall and his friends there, and went to as many family gatherings as he could. His son Mike recalls that when dad took him to work at the railroad when he was a kid, Max knew everyone, in every part of the operation. And he kept in touch with his friends from work, even after her retired. I remember we always had to visit his railroad friend Shook on the way back from his cabin in Baldwin. His former colleagues have expressed similar sentiments in recent days – that Max was the greatest person they ever worked with, the nicest person they knew, and an example of how to treat others. As quiet as he was, he developed very strong friendships and made a lasting impression on people.
He was a great guy to be around; he was someone you could just be with. Whether fishing or sitting on the porch, taking a walk or riding in the car, you could just spend time with him and notice your surroundings, usually animals and nature. You could be at ease. Perhaps this quality came from growing up in a time and a town that Max described as easy-going, friendly, not so crowded, and filled with people that weren't in such a hurry. I remember the first time I went with him to his cabin and he had caught what seemed like a whole school of bluegill. I offered to help clean the fish, and he said, "No, I got it…but you can stay and keep me company if you want."
Max took his time and enjoyed simple pleasures. He was very observant and could remember every bend in the stream, every animal, every detail of his surroundings. He had incredible patience and could sit in one spot on a lake all day while others kept looking for new, better fishing spots. And he caught fish, too! He moved at a different pace than most of the world around him. His son-in-law Harold remembers one fishing trip when their boat ran out of gas on the way back to shore. Harold started rowing as hard as he could, and Max said, "What's the hurry?" He was right – eventually his friend came and they were towed back to shore.
Max loved the outdoors and nature, and he shared this passion with his entire family. He would take his kids and grandkids for walks in the woods and fields near his house. His kids remember outdoor activities with dad from their childhood the most – camping, fishing with cane poles, skiing and sledding, swimming, picking berries and looking for morel mushrooms, and spending time at the cabin and at Pete and Leeta's cottage. After supper time there, they would get Jones ice cream, then go to the fish hatchery, and later drive down the two-tracks looking for deer. He loved hunting, up north and especially out West in Wyoming with his friends the Dykstras. He also loved fishing, whether it was in the lake, in the stream, or on the ice. I and many of his family members had the opportunity to share some of those fishing trips with dad, and are grateful to have those special memories, even his cooking – free of any seasoning, boiled potatoes maybe flavored with onion (remember, simple pleasures). His cabin was a place close to his heart filled with memories of his parents; in his later years, we would head up to the cabin for the day in the spring to open it up only to return in the fall to close it up. But it was important to him.
Max's family was also important to him, and he loved all of them very much and the time he got to spend with them. He was very close to his parents and his sisters. His dad was his best friend, and he was a very attentive son and always took care to make sure his mother was okay. He loved spending time with his kids and his grandkids. Max was deeply in love with his wife Virginia. They were married for 60 years, and until the end he wanted to make sure she would be taken care of. He took care of everyone. He was a hard worker who always provided for his family. At the cabin, he would often get up early to fish, then come back and make breakfast for everyone. Max helped his neighbors, and served others at his church. He even took care of the animals in his backyard. And he never wanted anything in return. When there was a family crisis, dad was there. He cared for his grandchildren when his son-in-law Harold was recovering from a brain aneurysm. When I broke my back and we were waiting for disability checks, mom and dad didn't hesitate to offer us food and supplies and whatever help we needed. Max loved his family unconditionally, and was accepting and loving of each of them for who they were no matter what. And when someone did help him, he appreciated, valued, and noticed every act of kindness, and would always give a sincere "thank you."
Max was also a man of faith. Even though he didn't officially become a Catholic until 1990, his son-in-law Harold remembers hearing dad praying on fishing trips even before he became Catholic. He demonstrated his faith through his actions every day; he lived his faith, especially in how he treated others. He served quietly, but steadfastly and was an example to all of us.
Another thing that his kids remember is just how big and strong Max was when they were young. They all remember sledding down the Burton Street hill. Max would get a running start and lay on his belly on the sled, and they would jump on his broad back and ride down. But he was also a gentle and kind man, with an inner strength that allowed him to keep going without complaint as his physical strength diminished. He handled his illness with grace and humor. He didn't complain about the cards he was dealt. He just shrugged his shoulders and gave us one of his smiles and did the best he could.
What else will we remember? Watching fireworks at the old gravel pit on the 4th of July; taking a nap with dad in the hammock; playing cards; the whistle he blew to call in the kids from the fields at supper time; dad singing out church hymns even though he was tone deaf; meals at New Beginnings and Old Country Buffet; dad reading or watching Westerns; and how he loved vanilla ice cream (especially Jones), beans, and fish.
Max was a hidden gem, a quiet and generous presence. If you didn't talk over him, if you weren't in a hurry, if you just had the time to listen or be with him, you realized what a great man he was. We will miss him. A good husband, father, grandfather, and most of all God's servant. As an old song says, "when our life is through … And the angels ask us to recall…..The thrill of it all…We shall tell them…. We will always remember you, Dad.
NOTE: This Eulogy was written by SARAH E. (FRIEDMAN) SMEDES, granddaughter, after she interviewed VIRGINIA CRONK, MIKE CRONK, TED & MARY (CRONK) FRIEDMAN and HAROLD & ANN (CRONK) WORKMAN about their memories of Max as husband, father and father-in-law. This Eulogy was read by Max's son-in-law, THEODORE DAVID FRIEDMAN during Max's funeral Mass at St. Francis Xavier and Our Lady of Guadalupe Catholic Church, 20 May 2014. What a beautiful tribute to his memory!
*****
MAX WILLIAM CRONK entered into his eternal reward Sunday, May 4, 2014, aged 87 years, after waging a courageous battle with Lewy Body Dementia.
Max was born August 29, 1926 in Grandville, MI, son of HOWARD and BEULAH F. (MOSS) CRONK. He served in the U.S. Army during the Korean War. Max met his future wife, VIRGINIA ELIZABETH PETTIT, after he first saw her across the room at the Phil Osterhouse Dance Studio in downtown Grand Rapids, and thought, "She looks like a princess." They were married in St. Francis Xavier Church, July 18, 1953. Max worked at the railroad all his working life, from the time it was the Pere Marquette in the late 1940's until retiring from CSX in 1987. He was an avid hunter and fisherman and loved the outdoors. Not having been raised in any particular religious tradition, Max was received into the Catholic Church on March 18, 1990. A quiet man, he demonstrated his faith through his volunteer work at St. Francis and his many acts of kindness to others. Max also had a keen sense of humor. When asked by his visiting RN about a recent fall at his doctor's office, he responded with a slight smile and a twinkle in his eye, "A nurse pushed me over." Max touched many lives and will be deeply missed by all.
In addition to his parents, Max was preceded in death by his sisters, BARBARA JANOWIAK and LEETA SNIDER; and his grandson, ADAM LEE FRIEDMAN. In addition to his wife, Virginia, Max is survived by his three children, MICHAEL CRONK, MARY (TED) FRIEDMAN and ANN (HAROLD) WORKMAN; five grandchildren, BRYCE WORKMAN, SARAH (TAD) SMEDES, LINDSEY WORKMAN, MATTHEW FRIEDMAN and KELLY WORKMAN; and three great-grandchildren, his little angels, DYLAN WORKMAN, ABBY SMEDES and EMMA FRIEDMAN; brothers-in-law and sister-in-law, PETER SNIDER, ALICE and ANDY LIMBER; and several nieces and nephews. Max is also survived by two very special friends, Bob and Dorothy Dykstra, with whom he shared many hunting and fishing adventures.
According to Max's wishes, cremation has taken place. A Memorial Service/Mass of Christian burial will be held at the Shrine of St. Francis Xavier and Our Lady of Guadalupe, 250 Brown SE, at a future date to be announced later (Please refer to www.arsulowiczbrothers.com and or the Sunday, May 18, 2014 newspaper). Interment will be in Mount Calvary Cemetery. The family would like to acknowledge the loving care and support of the staffs of Beacon Hill at Eastgate and Spectrum Health Hospice…from our hearts to your hearts. Contributions in Max's memory may be made to the charity of your choice.
THE GRAND RAPIDS PRESS, Grand Rapids, Mich., Sun., May 11, 2014, Pg. B3, Col. 3
*****
A Memorial Service/Mass of Christian burial will be held at the Shrine of St. Francis Xavier and Our Lady of Guadalupe, 250 Brown SE, Tuesday May 20, 2014 at 11:30 am. Interment will be in Mount Calvary Cemetery. His family will receive visitors Tuesday 10:00-11:30 am at the church.
THE GRAND RAPIDS PRESS, Grand Rapids, Mich., Sun., May 18, 2014, Pg. B2, Col. 4
NOTE: The entire obituary ran again in this paper with the addition of Max's specific funeral arrangements, shown above.
************************~ooOoo~************************
Max once told one of his grandchildren that he started working when he was nine years old picking beans for a penny a pound, but that he seldom made a dollar a day because he ate too many of the beans.
I remember the day the phone rang and it was dad. It was the week after his mother's funeral. "Hello," he said. "Yeah….I just wanted to call to let you know….that's the end of that generation, we're next, and then it's your turn. That's what I called about." And then he hung up. Those of us who knew Max can picture the twinkle that was in his eye when he called, and the slight smile on his face. He had a great sense of humor that could take you by surprise because of how quiet he was. He was also the master of one-liners. I remember when his daughter Mary and I got engaged. I never did ask dad for her hand in marriage, so you can only imagine what was going through my head when he asked me to step outside after we told the family the news. When we got outside, he pointed and said, "The ladder is in the garage, but I can leave it outside, and her window is the one right up there." Then he smiled and chuckled. Another time, when we were fishing up in Canada, a member of our group had a hook in his leg. Dad helped yank it out with some pliers from his tackle box, but lost his grip. When the skin snapped back with an echo of, "Ohhhhhhh God that hurt," dad had that sly twinkle in his eye when he said, "I didn't feel a thing."
Dad was a rare combination of quiet and social – he loved to be around people. He enjoyed walking the mall and his friends there, and went to as many family gatherings as he could. His son Mike recalls that when dad took him to work at the railroad when he was a kid, Max knew everyone, in every part of the operation. And he kept in touch with his friends from work, even after her retired. I remember we always had to visit his railroad friend Shook on the way back from his cabin in Baldwin. His former colleagues have expressed similar sentiments in recent days – that Max was the greatest person they ever worked with, the nicest person they knew, and an example of how to treat others. As quiet as he was, he developed very strong friendships and made a lasting impression on people.
He was a great guy to be around; he was someone you could just be with. Whether fishing or sitting on the porch, taking a walk or riding in the car, you could just spend time with him and notice your surroundings, usually animals and nature. You could be at ease. Perhaps this quality came from growing up in a time and a town that Max described as easy-going, friendly, not so crowded, and filled with people that weren't in such a hurry. I remember the first time I went with him to his cabin and he had caught what seemed like a whole school of bluegill. I offered to help clean the fish, and he said, "No, I got it…but you can stay and keep me company if you want."
Max took his time and enjoyed simple pleasures. He was very observant and could remember every bend in the stream, every animal, every detail of his surroundings. He had incredible patience and could sit in one spot on a lake all day while others kept looking for new, better fishing spots. And he caught fish, too! He moved at a different pace than most of the world around him. His son-in-law Harold remembers one fishing trip when their boat ran out of gas on the way back to shore. Harold started rowing as hard as he could, and Max said, "What's the hurry?" He was right – eventually his friend came and they were towed back to shore.
Max loved the outdoors and nature, and he shared this passion with his entire family. He would take his kids and grandkids for walks in the woods and fields near his house. His kids remember outdoor activities with dad from their childhood the most – camping, fishing with cane poles, skiing and sledding, swimming, picking berries and looking for morel mushrooms, and spending time at the cabin and at Pete and Leeta's cottage. After supper time there, they would get Jones ice cream, then go to the fish hatchery, and later drive down the two-tracks looking for deer. He loved hunting, up north and especially out West in Wyoming with his friends the Dykstras. He also loved fishing, whether it was in the lake, in the stream, or on the ice. I and many of his family members had the opportunity to share some of those fishing trips with dad, and are grateful to have those special memories, even his cooking – free of any seasoning, boiled potatoes maybe flavored with onion (remember, simple pleasures). His cabin was a place close to his heart filled with memories of his parents; in his later years, we would head up to the cabin for the day in the spring to open it up only to return in the fall to close it up. But it was important to him.
Max's family was also important to him, and he loved all of them very much and the time he got to spend with them. He was very close to his parents and his sisters. His dad was his best friend, and he was a very attentive son and always took care to make sure his mother was okay. He loved spending time with his kids and his grandkids. Max was deeply in love with his wife Virginia. They were married for 60 years, and until the end he wanted to make sure she would be taken care of. He took care of everyone. He was a hard worker who always provided for his family. At the cabin, he would often get up early to fish, then come back and make breakfast for everyone. Max helped his neighbors, and served others at his church. He even took care of the animals in his backyard. And he never wanted anything in return. When there was a family crisis, dad was there. He cared for his grandchildren when his son-in-law Harold was recovering from a brain aneurysm. When I broke my back and we were waiting for disability checks, mom and dad didn't hesitate to offer us food and supplies and whatever help we needed. Max loved his family unconditionally, and was accepting and loving of each of them for who they were no matter what. And when someone did help him, he appreciated, valued, and noticed every act of kindness, and would always give a sincere "thank you."
Max was also a man of faith. Even though he didn't officially become a Catholic until 1990, his son-in-law Harold remembers hearing dad praying on fishing trips even before he became Catholic. He demonstrated his faith through his actions every day; he lived his faith, especially in how he treated others. He served quietly, but steadfastly and was an example to all of us.
Another thing that his kids remember is just how big and strong Max was when they were young. They all remember sledding down the Burton Street hill. Max would get a running start and lay on his belly on the sled, and they would jump on his broad back and ride down. But he was also a gentle and kind man, with an inner strength that allowed him to keep going without complaint as his physical strength diminished. He handled his illness with grace and humor. He didn't complain about the cards he was dealt. He just shrugged his shoulders and gave us one of his smiles and did the best he could.
What else will we remember? Watching fireworks at the old gravel pit on the 4th of July; taking a nap with dad in the hammock; playing cards; the whistle he blew to call in the kids from the fields at supper time; dad singing out church hymns even though he was tone deaf; meals at New Beginnings and Old Country Buffet; dad reading or watching Westerns; and how he loved vanilla ice cream (especially Jones), beans, and fish.
Max was a hidden gem, a quiet and generous presence. If you didn't talk over him, if you weren't in a hurry, if you just had the time to listen or be with him, you realized what a great man he was. We will miss him. A good husband, father, grandfather, and most of all God's servant. As an old song says, "when our life is through … And the angels ask us to recall…..The thrill of it all…We shall tell them…. We will always remember you, Dad.
NOTE: This Eulogy was written by SARAH E. (FRIEDMAN) SMEDES, granddaughter, after she interviewed VIRGINIA CRONK, MIKE CRONK, TED & MARY (CRONK) FRIEDMAN and HAROLD & ANN (CRONK) WORKMAN about their memories of Max as husband, father and father-in-law. This Eulogy was read by Max's son-in-law, THEODORE DAVID FRIEDMAN during Max's funeral Mass at St. Francis Xavier and Our Lady of Guadalupe Catholic Church, 20 May 2014. What a beautiful tribute to his memory!
*****
MAX WILLIAM CRONK entered into his eternal reward Sunday, May 4, 2014, aged 87 years, after waging a courageous battle with Lewy Body Dementia.
Max was born August 29, 1926 in Grandville, MI, son of HOWARD and BEULAH F. (MOSS) CRONK. He served in the U.S. Army during the Korean War. Max met his future wife, VIRGINIA ELIZABETH PETTIT, after he first saw her across the room at the Phil Osterhouse Dance Studio in downtown Grand Rapids, and thought, "She looks like a princess." They were married in St. Francis Xavier Church, July 18, 1953. Max worked at the railroad all his working life, from the time it was the Pere Marquette in the late 1940's until retiring from CSX in 1987. He was an avid hunter and fisherman and loved the outdoors. Not having been raised in any particular religious tradition, Max was received into the Catholic Church on March 18, 1990. A quiet man, he demonstrated his faith through his volunteer work at St. Francis and his many acts of kindness to others. Max also had a keen sense of humor. When asked by his visiting RN about a recent fall at his doctor's office, he responded with a slight smile and a twinkle in his eye, "A nurse pushed me over." Max touched many lives and will be deeply missed by all.
In addition to his parents, Max was preceded in death by his sisters, BARBARA JANOWIAK and LEETA SNIDER; and his grandson, ADAM LEE FRIEDMAN. In addition to his wife, Virginia, Max is survived by his three children, MICHAEL CRONK, MARY (TED) FRIEDMAN and ANN (HAROLD) WORKMAN; five grandchildren, BRYCE WORKMAN, SARAH (TAD) SMEDES, LINDSEY WORKMAN, MATTHEW FRIEDMAN and KELLY WORKMAN; and three great-grandchildren, his little angels, DYLAN WORKMAN, ABBY SMEDES and EMMA FRIEDMAN; brothers-in-law and sister-in-law, PETER SNIDER, ALICE and ANDY LIMBER; and several nieces and nephews. Max is also survived by two very special friends, Bob and Dorothy Dykstra, with whom he shared many hunting and fishing adventures.
According to Max's wishes, cremation has taken place. A Memorial Service/Mass of Christian burial will be held at the Shrine of St. Francis Xavier and Our Lady of Guadalupe, 250 Brown SE, at a future date to be announced later (Please refer to www.arsulowiczbrothers.com and or the Sunday, May 18, 2014 newspaper). Interment will be in Mount Calvary Cemetery. The family would like to acknowledge the loving care and support of the staffs of Beacon Hill at Eastgate and Spectrum Health Hospice…from our hearts to your hearts. Contributions in Max's memory may be made to the charity of your choice.
THE GRAND RAPIDS PRESS, Grand Rapids, Mich., Sun., May 11, 2014, Pg. B3, Col. 3
*****
A Memorial Service/Mass of Christian burial will be held at the Shrine of St. Francis Xavier and Our Lady of Guadalupe, 250 Brown SE, Tuesday May 20, 2014 at 11:30 am. Interment will be in Mount Calvary Cemetery. His family will receive visitors Tuesday 10:00-11:30 am at the church.
THE GRAND RAPIDS PRESS, Grand Rapids, Mich., Sun., May 18, 2014, Pg. B2, Col. 4
NOTE: The entire obituary ran again in this paper with the addition of Max's specific funeral arrangements, shown above.
************************~ooOoo~************************
EULOGY for MAX WILLIAM CRONK (1926-2014)
Max once told one of his grandchildren that he started working when he was nine years old picking beans for a penny a pound, but that he seldom made a dollar a day because he ate too many of the beans.
I remember the day the phone rang and it was dad. It was the week after his mother's funeral. "Hello," he said. "Yeah….I just wanted to call to let you know….that's the end of that generation, we're next, and then it's your turn. That's what I called about." And then he hung up. Those of us who knew Max can picture the twinkle that was in his eye when he called, and the slight smile on his face. He had a great sense of humor that could take you by surprise because of how quiet he was. He was also the master of one-liners. I remember when his daughter Mary and I got engaged. I never did ask dad for her hand in marriage, so you can only imagine what was going through my head when he asked me to step outside after we told the family the news. When we got outside, he pointed and said, "The ladder is in the garage, but I can leave it outside, and her window is the one right up there." Then he smiled and chuckled. Another time, when we were fishing up in Canada, a member of our group had a hook in his leg. Dad helped yank it out with some pliers from his tackle box, but lost his grip. When the skin snapped back with an echo of, "Ohhhhhhh God that hurt," dad had that sly twinkle in his eye when he said, "I didn't feel a thing."
Dad was a rare combination of quiet and social – he loved to be around people. He enjoyed walking the mall and his friends there, and went to as many family gatherings as he could. His son Mike recalls that when dad took him to work at the railroad when he was a kid, Max knew everyone, in every part of the operation. And he kept in touch with his friends from work, even after her retired. I remember we always had to visit his railroad friend Shook on the way back from his cabin in Baldwin. His former colleagues have expressed similar sentiments in recent days – that Max was the greatest person they ever worked with, the nicest person they knew, and an example of how to treat others. As quiet as he was, he developed very strong friendships and made a lasting impression on people.
He was a great guy to be around; he was someone you could just be with. Whether fishing or sitting on the porch, taking a walk or riding in the car, you could just spend time with him and notice your surroundings, usually animals and nature. You could be at ease. Perhaps this quality came from growing up in a time and a town that Max described as easy-going, friendly, not so crowded, and filled with people that weren't in such a hurry. I remember the first time I went with him to his cabin and he had caught what seemed like a whole school of bluegill. I offered to help clean the fish, and he said, "No, I got it…but you can stay and keep me company if you want."
Max took his time and enjoyed simple pleasures. He was very observant and could remember every bend in the stream, every animal, every detail of his surroundings. He had incredible patience and could sit in one spot on a lake all day while others kept looking for new, better fishing spots. And he caught fish, too! He moved at a different pace than most of the world around him. His son-in-law Harold remembers one fishing trip when their boat ran out of gas on the way back to shore. Harold started rowing as hard as he could, and Max said, "What's the hurry?" He was right – eventually his friend came and they were towed back to shore.
Max loved the outdoors and nature, and he shared this passion with his entire family. He would take his kids and grandkids for walks in the woods and fields near his house. His kids remember outdoor activities with dad from their childhood the most – camping, fishing with cane poles, skiing and sledding, swimming, picking berries and looking for morel mushrooms, and spending time at the cabin and at Pete and Leeta's cottage. After supper time there, they would get Jones ice cream, then go to the fish hatchery, and later drive down the two-tracks looking for deer. He loved hunting, up north and especially out West in Wyoming with his friends the Dykstras. He also loved fishing, whether it was in the lake, in the stream, or on the ice. I and many of his family members had the opportunity to share some of those fishing trips with dad, and are grateful to have those special memories, even his cooking – free of any seasoning, boiled potatoes maybe flavored with onion (remember, simple pleasures). His cabin was a place close to his heart filled with memories of his parents; in his later years, we would head up to the cabin for the day in the spring to open it up only to return in the fall to close it up. But it was important to him.
Max's family was also important to him, and he loved all of them very much and the time he got to spend with them. He was very close to his parents and his sisters. His dad was his best friend, and he was a very attentive son and always took care to make sure his mother was okay. He loved spending time with his kids and his grandkids. Max was deeply in love with his wife Virginia. They were married for 60 years, and until the end he wanted to make sure she would be taken care of. He took care of everyone. He was a hard worker who always provided for his family. At the cabin, he would often get up early to fish, then come back and make breakfast for everyone. Max helped his neighbors, and served others at his church. He even took care of the animals in his backyard. And he never wanted anything in return. When there was a family crisis, dad was there. He cared for his grandchildren when his son-in-law Harold was recovering from a brain aneurysm. When I broke my back and we were waiting for disability checks, mom and dad didn't hesitate to offer us food and supplies and whatever help we needed. Max loved his family unconditionally, and was accepting and loving of each of them for who they were no matter what. And when someone did help him, he appreciated, valued, and noticed every act of kindness, and would always give a sincere "thank you."
Max was also a man of faith. Even though he didn't officially become a Catholic until 1990, his son-in-law Harold remembers hearing dad praying on fishing trips even before he became Catholic. He demonstrated his faith through his actions every day; he lived his faith, especially in how he treated others. He served quietly, but steadfastly and was an example to all of us.
Another thing that his kids remember is just how big and strong Max was when they were young. They all remember sledding down the Burton Street hill. Max would get a running start and lay on his belly on the sled, and they would jump on his broad back and ride down. But he was also a gentle and kind man, with an inner strength that allowed him to keep going without complaint as his physical strength diminished. He handled his illness with grace and humor. He didn't complain about the cards he was dealt. He just shrugged his shoulders and gave us one of his smiles and did the best he could.
What else will we remember? Watching fireworks at the old gravel pit on the 4th of July; taking a nap with dad in the hammock; playing cards; the whistle he blew to call in the kids from the fields at supper time; dad singing out church hymns even though he was tone deaf; meals at New Beginnings and Old Country Buffet; dad reading or watching Westerns; and how he loved vanilla ice cream (especially Jones), beans, and fish.
Max was a hidden gem, a quiet and generous presence. If you didn't talk over him, if you weren't in a hurry, if you just had the time to listen or be with him, you realized what a great man he was. We will miss him. A good husband, father, grandfather, and most of all God's servant. As an old song says, "when our life is through … And the angels ask us to recall…..The thrill of it all…We shall tell them…. We will always remember you, Dad.
NOTE: This Eulogy was written by SARAH E. (FRIEDMAN) SMEDES, granddaughter, after she interviewed VIRGINIA CRONK, MIKE CRONK, TED & MARY (CRONK) FRIEDMAN and HAROLD & ANN (CRONK) WORKMAN about their memories of Max as husband, father and father-in-law. This Eulogy was read by Max's son-in-law, THEODORE DAVID FRIEDMAN during Max's funeral Mass at St. Francis Xavier and Our Lady of Guadalupe Catholic Church, 20 May 2014. What a beautiful tribute to his memory!
*****
MAX WILLIAM CRONK entered into his eternal reward Sunday, May 4, 2014, aged 87 years, after waging a courageous battle with Lewy Body Dementia.
Max was born August 29, 1926 in Grandville, MI, son of HOWARD and BEULAH F. (MOSS) CRONK. He served in the U.S. Army during the Korean War. Max met his future wife, VIRGINIA ELIZABETH PETTIT, after he first saw her across the room at the Phil Osterhouse Dance Studio in downtown Grand Rapids, and thought, "She looks like a princess." They were married in St. Francis Xavier Church, July 18, 1953. Max worked at the railroad all his working life, from the time it was the Pere Marquette in the late 1940's until retiring from CSX in 1987. He was an avid hunter and fisherman and loved the outdoors. Not having been raised in any particular religious tradition, Max was received into the Catholic Church on March 18, 1990. A quiet man, he demonstrated his faith through his volunteer work at St. Francis and his many acts of kindness to others. Max also had a keen sense of humor. When asked by his visiting RN about a recent fall at his doctor's office, he responded with a slight smile and a twinkle in his eye, "A nurse pushed me over." Max touched many lives and will be deeply missed by all.
In addition to his parents, Max was preceded in death by his sisters, BARBARA JANOWIAK and LEETA SNIDER; and his grandson, ADAM LEE FRIEDMAN. In addition to his wife, Virginia, Max is survived by his three children, MICHAEL CRONK, MARY (TED) FRIEDMAN and ANN (HAROLD) WORKMAN; five grandchildren, BRYCE WORKMAN, SARAH (TAD) SMEDES, LINDSEY WORKMAN, MATTHEW FRIEDMAN and KELLY WORKMAN; and three great-grandchildren, his little angels, DYLAN WORKMAN, ABBY SMEDES and EMMA FRIEDMAN; brothers-in-law and sister-in-law, PETER SNIDER, ALICE and ANDY LIMBER; and several nieces and nephews. Max is also survived by two very special friends, Bob and Dorothy Dykstra, with whom he shared many hunting and fishing adventures.
According to Max's wishes, cremation has taken place. A Memorial Service/Mass of Christian burial will be held at the Shrine of St. Francis Xavier and Our Lady of Guadalupe, 250 Brown SE, at a future date to be announced later (Please refer to www.arsulowiczbrothers.com and or the Sunday, May 18, 2014 newspaper). Interment will be in Mount Calvary Cemetery. The family would like to acknowledge the loving care and support of the staffs of Beacon Hill at Eastgate and Spectrum Health Hospice…from our hearts to your hearts. Contributions in Max's memory may be made to the charity of your choice.
THE GRAND RAPIDS PRESS, Grand Rapids, Mich., Sun., May 11, 2014, Pg. B3, Col. 3
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A Memorial Service/Mass of Christian burial will be held at the Shrine of St. Francis Xavier and Our Lady of Guadalupe, 250 Brown SE, Tuesday May 20, 2014 at 11:30 am. Interment will be in Mount Calvary Cemetery. His family will receive visitors Tuesday 10:00-11:30 am at the church.
THE GRAND RAPIDS PRESS, Grand Rapids, Mich., Sun., May 18, 2014, Pg. B2, Col. 4
NOTE: The entire obituary ran again in this paper with the addition of Max's specific funeral arrangements, shown above.
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Max once told one of his grandchildren that he started working when he was nine years old picking beans for a penny a pound, but that he seldom made a dollar a day because he ate too many of the beans.
I remember the day the phone rang and it was dad. It was the week after his mother's funeral. "Hello," he said. "Yeah….I just wanted to call to let you know….that's the end of that generation, we're next, and then it's your turn. That's what I called about." And then he hung up. Those of us who knew Max can picture the twinkle that was in his eye when he called, and the slight smile on his face. He had a great sense of humor that could take you by surprise because of how quiet he was. He was also the master of one-liners. I remember when his daughter Mary and I got engaged. I never did ask dad for her hand in marriage, so you can only imagine what was going through my head when he asked me to step outside after we told the family the news. When we got outside, he pointed and said, "The ladder is in the garage, but I can leave it outside, and her window is the one right up there." Then he smiled and chuckled. Another time, when we were fishing up in Canada, a member of our group had a hook in his leg. Dad helped yank it out with some pliers from his tackle box, but lost his grip. When the skin snapped back with an echo of, "Ohhhhhhh God that hurt," dad had that sly twinkle in his eye when he said, "I didn't feel a thing."
Dad was a rare combination of quiet and social – he loved to be around people. He enjoyed walking the mall and his friends there, and went to as many family gatherings as he could. His son Mike recalls that when dad took him to work at the railroad when he was a kid, Max knew everyone, in every part of the operation. And he kept in touch with his friends from work, even after her retired. I remember we always had to visit his railroad friend Shook on the way back from his cabin in Baldwin. His former colleagues have expressed similar sentiments in recent days – that Max was the greatest person they ever worked with, the nicest person they knew, and an example of how to treat others. As quiet as he was, he developed very strong friendships and made a lasting impression on people.
He was a great guy to be around; he was someone you could just be with. Whether fishing or sitting on the porch, taking a walk or riding in the car, you could just spend time with him and notice your surroundings, usually animals and nature. You could be at ease. Perhaps this quality came from growing up in a time and a town that Max described as easy-going, friendly, not so crowded, and filled with people that weren't in such a hurry. I remember the first time I went with him to his cabin and he had caught what seemed like a whole school of bluegill. I offered to help clean the fish, and he said, "No, I got it…but you can stay and keep me company if you want."
Max took his time and enjoyed simple pleasures. He was very observant and could remember every bend in the stream, every animal, every detail of his surroundings. He had incredible patience and could sit in one spot on a lake all day while others kept looking for new, better fishing spots. And he caught fish, too! He moved at a different pace than most of the world around him. His son-in-law Harold remembers one fishing trip when their boat ran out of gas on the way back to shore. Harold started rowing as hard as he could, and Max said, "What's the hurry?" He was right – eventually his friend came and they were towed back to shore.
Max loved the outdoors and nature, and he shared this passion with his entire family. He would take his kids and grandkids for walks in the woods and fields near his house. His kids remember outdoor activities with dad from their childhood the most – camping, fishing with cane poles, skiing and sledding, swimming, picking berries and looking for morel mushrooms, and spending time at the cabin and at Pete and Leeta's cottage. After supper time there, they would get Jones ice cream, then go to the fish hatchery, and later drive down the two-tracks looking for deer. He loved hunting, up north and especially out West in Wyoming with his friends the Dykstras. He also loved fishing, whether it was in the lake, in the stream, or on the ice. I and many of his family members had the opportunity to share some of those fishing trips with dad, and are grateful to have those special memories, even his cooking – free of any seasoning, boiled potatoes maybe flavored with onion (remember, simple pleasures). His cabin was a place close to his heart filled with memories of his parents; in his later years, we would head up to the cabin for the day in the spring to open it up only to return in the fall to close it up. But it was important to him.
Max's family was also important to him, and he loved all of them very much and the time he got to spend with them. He was very close to his parents and his sisters. His dad was his best friend, and he was a very attentive son and always took care to make sure his mother was okay. He loved spending time with his kids and his grandkids. Max was deeply in love with his wife Virginia. They were married for 60 years, and until the end he wanted to make sure she would be taken care of. He took care of everyone. He was a hard worker who always provided for his family. At the cabin, he would often get up early to fish, then come back and make breakfast for everyone. Max helped his neighbors, and served others at his church. He even took care of the animals in his backyard. And he never wanted anything in return. When there was a family crisis, dad was there. He cared for his grandchildren when his son-in-law Harold was recovering from a brain aneurysm. When I broke my back and we were waiting for disability checks, mom and dad didn't hesitate to offer us food and supplies and whatever help we needed. Max loved his family unconditionally, and was accepting and loving of each of them for who they were no matter what. And when someone did help him, he appreciated, valued, and noticed every act of kindness, and would always give a sincere "thank you."
Max was also a man of faith. Even though he didn't officially become a Catholic until 1990, his son-in-law Harold remembers hearing dad praying on fishing trips even before he became Catholic. He demonstrated his faith through his actions every day; he lived his faith, especially in how he treated others. He served quietly, but steadfastly and was an example to all of us.
Another thing that his kids remember is just how big and strong Max was when they were young. They all remember sledding down the Burton Street hill. Max would get a running start and lay on his belly on the sled, and they would jump on his broad back and ride down. But he was also a gentle and kind man, with an inner strength that allowed him to keep going without complaint as his physical strength diminished. He handled his illness with grace and humor. He didn't complain about the cards he was dealt. He just shrugged his shoulders and gave us one of his smiles and did the best he could.
What else will we remember? Watching fireworks at the old gravel pit on the 4th of July; taking a nap with dad in the hammock; playing cards; the whistle he blew to call in the kids from the fields at supper time; dad singing out church hymns even though he was tone deaf; meals at New Beginnings and Old Country Buffet; dad reading or watching Westerns; and how he loved vanilla ice cream (especially Jones), beans, and fish.
Max was a hidden gem, a quiet and generous presence. If you didn't talk over him, if you weren't in a hurry, if you just had the time to listen or be with him, you realized what a great man he was. We will miss him. A good husband, father, grandfather, and most of all God's servant. As an old song says, "when our life is through … And the angels ask us to recall…..The thrill of it all…We shall tell them…. We will always remember you, Dad.
NOTE: This Eulogy was written by SARAH E. (FRIEDMAN) SMEDES, granddaughter, after she interviewed VIRGINIA CRONK, MIKE CRONK, TED & MARY (CRONK) FRIEDMAN and HAROLD & ANN (CRONK) WORKMAN about their memories of Max as husband, father and father-in-law. This Eulogy was read by Max's son-in-law, THEODORE DAVID FRIEDMAN during Max's funeral Mass at St. Francis Xavier and Our Lady of Guadalupe Catholic Church, 20 May 2014. What a beautiful tribute to his memory!
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MAX WILLIAM CRONK entered into his eternal reward Sunday, May 4, 2014, aged 87 years, after waging a courageous battle with Lewy Body Dementia.
Max was born August 29, 1926 in Grandville, MI, son of HOWARD and BEULAH F. (MOSS) CRONK. He served in the U.S. Army during the Korean War. Max met his future wife, VIRGINIA ELIZABETH PETTIT, after he first saw her across the room at the Phil Osterhouse Dance Studio in downtown Grand Rapids, and thought, "She looks like a princess." They were married in St. Francis Xavier Church, July 18, 1953. Max worked at the railroad all his working life, from the time it was the Pere Marquette in the late 1940's until retiring from CSX in 1987. He was an avid hunter and fisherman and loved the outdoors. Not having been raised in any particular religious tradition, Max was received into the Catholic Church on March 18, 1990. A quiet man, he demonstrated his faith through his volunteer work at St. Francis and his many acts of kindness to others. Max also had a keen sense of humor. When asked by his visiting RN about a recent fall at his doctor's office, he responded with a slight smile and a twinkle in his eye, "A nurse pushed me over." Max touched many lives and will be deeply missed by all.
In addition to his parents, Max was preceded in death by his sisters, BARBARA JANOWIAK and LEETA SNIDER; and his grandson, ADAM LEE FRIEDMAN. In addition to his wife, Virginia, Max is survived by his three children, MICHAEL CRONK, MARY (TED) FRIEDMAN and ANN (HAROLD) WORKMAN; five grandchildren, BRYCE WORKMAN, SARAH (TAD) SMEDES, LINDSEY WORKMAN, MATTHEW FRIEDMAN and KELLY WORKMAN; and three great-grandchildren, his little angels, DYLAN WORKMAN, ABBY SMEDES and EMMA FRIEDMAN; brothers-in-law and sister-in-law, PETER SNIDER, ALICE and ANDY LIMBER; and several nieces and nephews. Max is also survived by two very special friends, Bob and Dorothy Dykstra, with whom he shared many hunting and fishing adventures.
According to Max's wishes, cremation has taken place. A Memorial Service/Mass of Christian burial will be held at the Shrine of St. Francis Xavier and Our Lady of Guadalupe, 250 Brown SE, at a future date to be announced later (Please refer to www.arsulowiczbrothers.com and or the Sunday, May 18, 2014 newspaper). Interment will be in Mount Calvary Cemetery. The family would like to acknowledge the loving care and support of the staffs of Beacon Hill at Eastgate and Spectrum Health Hospice…from our hearts to your hearts. Contributions in Max's memory may be made to the charity of your choice.
THE GRAND RAPIDS PRESS, Grand Rapids, Mich., Sun., May 11, 2014, Pg. B3, Col. 3
*****
A Memorial Service/Mass of Christian burial will be held at the Shrine of St. Francis Xavier and Our Lady of Guadalupe, 250 Brown SE, Tuesday May 20, 2014 at 11:30 am. Interment will be in Mount Calvary Cemetery. His family will receive visitors Tuesday 10:00-11:30 am at the church.
THE GRAND RAPIDS PRESS, Grand Rapids, Mich., Sun., May 18, 2014, Pg. B2, Col. 4
NOTE: The entire obituary ran again in this paper with the addition of Max's specific funeral arrangements, shown above.
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