Dorothy May Cross

A woman of deep and abiding faith, Dorothy was a devoted Christian whose beliefs guided her throughout her life. She is survived by her beloved aunt, Rosalie (Sister Gertrude Marie), whose close relationship meant so much to her. Dorothy was preceded in death by her cherished husband, Eugene “Gene” Cross, who passed away in 2013.

Dorothy and Gene were married in 1967 and shared a loving life together while raising their three children: Elizabeth, Gregory, and Catherine. She was a proud grandmother to Juliane, Alexandra, and Clarissa. She also leaves behind her faithful cat, Shelly, who was a treasured companion, as well as her dear friend of more than 50 years, Jane, whose friendship was a constant blessing.

Dorothy graduated from Mt. de Sales Academy before beginning a varied and fulfilling career. Early in her working life, she was employed by Montgomery Ward and National Bank. In 1959, she entered the convent to pursue a religious vocation. After discerning that convent life was not her calling, she left in 1961 and continued building a meaningful career. Over the years, she worked for P.I.E. Trucking Company, Deck Pride, Shaivitz Furniture, and Regency Travel. She often shared that she had once dreamed of becoming a truck driver, a reflection of her adventurous spirit and willingness to embrace new possibilities.

In her free time, Dorothy found joy in simple pleasures. She loved knitting beautiful afghans for family and friends, completing puzzles, and watching favorite television programs such as Downton Abbey, Little House on the Prairie, and The Andy Griffith Show. One of her favorite films was The Sound of Music. She also enjoyed playing solitaire on her computer and, in her later years, spent countless hours searching the internet to learn about topics that captured her interest.

Dorothy had a lifelong love for animals and generously supported numerous animal rescue organizations. One that held a special place in her heart was Gentle Giants Draft Horse Rescue, which she had the opportunity to visit several years ago.

Dorothy will be remembered for her quiet faith, kind heart, gentle spirit, love of family and friends, and compassion for animals. She leaves behind a legacy of warmth, generosity, and enduring love that will be treasured by all who knew her.

In lieu of flowers, the family kindly requests that memorial contributions be made to an animal rescue organization that is meaningful to you, in honor of Dorothy’s lifelong love and compassion for animals.

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The following was written by my mother, Dorothy Cross, several years ago. She had titled it “And now the rest of the story….” but it is really the beginning of her story…

“I grew up on a farm - pigs, cows, a horse, lots of chickens, a lamb and an assortment of cats and dogs - mostly hunting dogs - except for Fuzzy. I think he was a Pomeranian. I remember gathering the eggs one morning (I’m not sure what my age was). I did not bring a basket to put them in so since it was only one or two, I stuck them in my pants pockets. Well wouldn’t you know, I forgot they were there and I leaned over the fence to see the new piglets - squash!!!

Another time I recall when the cow got loose and I was walking across the lawn towards the house. Everybody went down toward the cow screaming for it to return to its fences but that dumb cow just came forward. I believe it was Rosalie who picked up a switch and charged the beast. The cow retreated and she saved us from a home invasion.

I remember playing in the sheds across from the house. Mostly junk (keeps sakes) were kept there so Herb and I cleaned out of space that we could play Cowboys in. The sheds were the ranch and the Apple Orchard was a good place for a shootout. Our horses were, of course, a stick with plastic horse’s head nailed on or just a stick in most cases. Oh yes, we had guns! Woolworth type guns with holsters, etc, etc. They shot nothing - not even caps.

I played a lot with dolls growing up. I remember every Christmas without exception I was given some sort of doll. One year I remember I got twins named Peat and Repeat. Had their own bottles and diapers - sort of the drink and wet type. In one end and out another…

For the first three years of my education we were “bussed” over to St Mark’s in Catonsville on Melvin Avenue (home to Revisions). Father Fein of St Mary’s in Ilchester started the school there. That was about a mile from my house. Once in a while we had to a walk if the bridge was out near Willie’s house. Willie was our bus driver. An aside - He was a real nice guy but liked to play tricks on people. His wife was learning how to drive and as she went around a curve he opened the door and pretended to fall out! I think she got a professional to finish teaching her... Back to my story. We had to cross the little branch if the bridge was out and I remember one time I had embroidered a centerpiece and was carrying it loose in my hands when about halfway across - yep - I dropped it in the river. Lynn Cavey (now Lynn Leaf), an 8th grader who was walking with us, rescued it and had the people who lived under the school wash and iron it for me so I could display it. Now doesn’t that make your life complete knowing that!

There was this boy in school - I was in the 8th grade then - that I thought I liked. He said something or did something, I cannot remember which, but I was forced to chase him around the school bus in the school yard. Sister What’s her Name stopped me midway and reprimanded me for such unladylike actions. She called me a tomboy. (What does she know!)

In 8th grade I was in the Christmas play. I played a mother with eight children. I think one was blind because Mother Mary performed a miracle at the end and gave her sight - anyhow there was a ‘walk on’ for a dog so we volunteered Fuzzy for the part. Herb was backstage pushing Fuzzy for all he was worth and I was calling him. Fuzzy made a half circle saying something like “see ya” and off he went. He was never the same, and David Letterman was not around for Stupid Animal Tricks.

Oh I almost forgot - in my first three years at St Mark’s I took piano lessons from Sister Marie Kevin. Bless her Holy and patient heart. She tried but in my third year at the recital (you got to embarrass yourself and your family and friends by performing for them), I tried to play without the music. Well I knew the thing at home, practicing, practicing, and more practicing. But my mind went blank. I sat there longer than should be, but it finally came to me ... and wouldn’t you know it - I hit the wrong key at the end. I only learned 53 years later no one probably noticed it but me - but I cried anyway ... and dropped the piano lessons. “How dumb of me” I say now.

Snow was a lot of fun on The Hill (my home in Ilchester). We had lots of flat area to roll really big snowballs. Herb and I made some great snowmen (or women)!!. There was also a good hill to go sledding on. But driving up the long driveway was hazardous to say the least. Cars nowadays have front or rear wheel drive or both - cars in those days - well you can imagine. Lots of times we just parked at the bottom of the hill and walked up.

Every Saturday we would go into Catonsville, about 7 miles away. Real treat. We would go to the Woolworth’s store and occasionally we would go to Epstein’s, a clothing store. Mr. Sachs, the owner, would always try and talk my grandmother into buying a corset. My grandmother was I guess 300 pounds or thereabouts.

It had to be some big occasion for us to venture into Baltimore. No one had patience to find a parking spot as parking garages were few if any. I remember someone took Rosalie and myself to a street car stop in Catonsville, possibly the Junction, and we went into Baltimore that way. We went to the Hippodrome theater to see the Harmonicats-I think. My first and last big theater trip for many years.

Herb and I had lots of places to play on The Hill. Acres and acres of ground and lots of things to get into. One day we milked the cow out in the pasture. We didn’t know that once you start the process, the cow might leak all the time - anyway - this one did! Another time we found an old rusty corn shock cutter - anyway Herb managed to almost sever his thumb. My Grandmother was a ‘Hysterical Hannah’ but she managed to save his thumb amidst the tears and fussing at Herb.

I remember we made our own butter. We would skim off the cream from the top of the milk, store it in the ice box, then on Thursdays my grandmother would get out the churn and start churning. We were allowed to churn it in the beginning of the process when it was easy but as it got harder, just before the butter came, we had to give it over to a grown up. Best butter in the world is homemade ... from that we also had buttermilk and we also made smearcase (cottage cheese). My grandfather ate something called clabber - don’t ask ...

I hesitate to tell you about high school. I used to get there (Mt. DeSales Academy), early before school started. Another girl, Bernadette Miller, used to get there early also. We were ‘teacher’s pets’ because we would open some of the shutters and do some dusting for the nuns. We would also play the piano in the Music Hall. She was a year behind us so when I graduated, I lost contact with her except on rare occasions. My close friend in school was, of course, Lois Schiaffino. We were the only two in the whole school, I think, that didn’t date and were not ‘boy crazy’. Despite our friendship, we spent little time at each other’s homes because she lived all the way in Catonsville and I lived all the way out in Ilchester. No public transportation then, or now, and we wouldn’t think of troubling a relative to drive us. Lois got a job as a secretary to the President of Fairview Federal Savings and Loan on Frederick Road through the aid of Sister Whats-Her-Name, our commercial course teacher. I could have had that job but I was too scared because you had to be good at shorthand and I was not sure I could do it. Lois stayed on that job until her multiple sclerosis took over and forced her to retire. Lois had one boyfriend, Tom. Tom and Lois were talking marriage. Tom’s family owned a small grocery store on Edmonson Avenue. Six months after Lois was diagnosed with MS, her boyfriend dropped her. A couple of weeks later, two men robbed the store. Unfortunately, they were armed and not only killed the watchdog but shot Tom in the back causing him to be paralyzed from the waist down. Lois tried to keep in touch with Tom but he never responded. (Cheered up yet?)

While Lois had her job at the S & L, I worked at Montgomery Wards on Monroe Street in their offices typing names and addresses on rolls of paper that they would cut and paste on their outgoing catalogs. This is where I met Doris (Leisure) Baker. I remember when she and Harold got married, I didn’t go to the wedding as I had just met her. I also remember when Reese was born. We remained friends until the last 10 years or so. From Wards, I went to Catonsville National Bank, now First National Bank. I stayed there until I went into the convent in Devon PA. I had a bad automobile accident in April of 1959, head injury- yeah, I know…!! Anyhow, I went into the convent that same year and left in January of 1961. Grandma Lansinger came up to get me in Devon that January day. It had started to snow in Baltimore before she left the area. This was the days before the superhighways and the trip took three hours then, probably an hour and ½ now. By the time we got back to the Baltimore area, snow was up to our knees and the car crapped out along Route 40. I remember walking to get help at a gas station but I don’t remember what happened after that. Sorry.

There’s a lot more to tell - the time a baby sat for Lynn Leaf, the same Lynn who saved my stitchery in the early school days. She has two children. They were really good. I remember taking them to see… noooo, not the Sound of Music but Born Free. Anyhow, Lynn still teases me about the time I had put the children to bed and was eating a cold hot dog from the fridge when she came home. She had told me to help myself!! She said I should have heated it up, but I really liked cold ones…

Then there was the time I got shot. We had friends who used to visit from the city when I was growing up, don’t remember the year. Anyhow my grandfather used to shoot rats to keep them from eating corn he had stored for the animals. He had just propped up the shotgun loaded with scattershot against the garage door when these friends drove up. Out of the car jumps the teenager who grabs the gun, levels it towards the house and fires. Headed around the corner of the house was Rosalie to get out of the way, I was standing just a few yards to her left and Herb was a few yards to my right. Rosalie got the worst of it. She went running around the house crying and screaming. She was caught on the second trip around I believe, by Grandma Lansinger. She, Herb and I were put into the car and taken to St Agnes Hospital (no 911 back then). The doctor spent a long time tweezing out all that scattershot from her back. Herb and I were only slightly grazed but all of us got ice cream cones at High’s on the way home.

Now you know the rest of the story, or most of it. Whenever you have a sleepless night, you’ll know what to start reading!!!”

As I go through my parent’s belongings, it struck me that my parents seemed to be closer than they appeared. There were many holiday and birthday cards sent with loving sentiment, including her often signing them “Dottie-Pooh” which must have been something between the two of them!

My mother had so kept so many cards and mementos that meant something to her, from so many people she touched. It was also evident that her friends loved her, and felt that she was very warm and funny; she was a comfort to them. She kept childhood projects and cards from her children. She was also loved by her grandchildren, as she kept many of their cards and projects from their early years.

It’s interesting that so many people are deeper than they appear on the surface, relationships are stronger than they appear, and that we all have identities or faces that are shown to different people. Sometimes others bring out different sides of ourselves that help us shine.

My mother, and my father, are greatly missed- more than I ever thought they would. They have had a profound impact on my life more than I ever gave them credit for. Things were not perfect, but they were strong enough to help me become the person I am today.

We all love you both!

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Remembrance for Grandma’s Book, by Julie Knauer

Some of my favorite memories with Grandma are the simple, sweet ways she stayed connected with me, even from far away.

I remember how we used to play tic tac toe together by mail. We’d send letters back and forth, each envelope filled with sheets of paper covered in little games—tic tac toe grids and another paper game whose name I can’t quite remember now. We’d take turns by mail, continuing our games one move at a time. It was such a small thing, but so thoughtful and so her.

She also got me a subscription to Cricket magazine, something I absolutely adored. I still have all the issues. They were a bright spot I looked forward to so much, and it meant a lot that she made that effort to be part of my life from afar.

Another year, it had snowed weeks before we visited, and Grandma actually saved snowballs in the freezer so we could still have a snowball fight when we arrived.

She loved finding fun little gadgets for us too—foam rocket launchers, soap bubble guns or squeaky robot dogs.

I remember watching The Andy Griffith Show with her—Clary remembers it too; she told me just last week she has the theme melody stuck in her head.

I remember how much she liked the movies "The sound of music" and "Black Beauty". When I was young, she got me the sheet music for the soundtrack from "The sound of music" for clarinet. Also, an illustrated version of "Black Beauty" and a book that taught you how to draw horses (and other animals)—maybe that one was from Grandpa—but together it all felt like this gentle encouragement from them, showing me they cared, showing me their world, and hoping I’d find joy in the things that mattered to them.

All these little moments—letters, games, magazines, gifts, snowballs tucked away for later—add up to something much bigger. They show how she made an effort to stay close to us, even when distance made it hard. They show how much she cared, how thoughtful she was, and how lucky we are to have been loved by her in these small, meaningful ways.