Beyond the Byline: This light will shine forever

PLYMOUTH — The other night I drove to Mrs. Shevock’s house just to take a look at it.

I pulled into the driveway and sat there, just staring at the brown brick walls and remembering all the good times spent inside.

Marie Shevock, my dear friend, died Nov. 19, on the 10th anniversary of her husband’s death. She was 93, about one month shy of her 94th birthday.

As I sat in my car, I kept looking at the house and how dark it was. No lights were on. Nobody sitting on the side porch. No laughter coming from inside.

This home, which always looked like it was moved into the day before, was not the same now.

Fact is, it will never be the same for me and for all who ever entered this home and entered the heart of Marie Shevock.

And she had one big heart.

I called Mrs. Shevock “The Champ.” She earned that name from her skills at playing cards. Her favorite game was “hand-and-foot.” I don’t know why it’s called that, but The Champ was the best at it. Every time we played, The Champ would win more games than anybody else. If you were her partner, you were very lucky.

The Champ liked me, for some reason. Wait, no, she loved me. She told me that often. And I loved her. So much so, I would bring her a funnel cake every August from the Plymouth Kielbasa Festival. She would devour it. Nothing says I love you like a fresh, warm, powdered sugar covered funnel cake.

When there was no Kielbasa Festival this year, I searched for a local business that sold funnel cakes. I found one and I surprised The Champ with one the first chance I got. She was thrilled. She always liked extra powdered sugar.

Mrs. Shevock also loved to read my columns, never expecting me to write one about her after she had passed. Neither did I.

But this is a difficult task. There are so many stories, so many things I could write about to tell the world just what a great human being Marie Shevock was. But the best thing I could do is just say that if you never met her or got the opportunity to know her, you could never understand why this is so difficult for me to write about.

I could sit and talk to her for hours. She always had something to tell me that I never knew, especially when it came to my parents. She knew them. She liked that she could fill in many blanks for me about my parents and their lives before I came along.

Marie Shevock was more than a friend — she was family. And oh what a family this was to be around.

Marie was so very proud of her children, Stanley and Barbara. She lived for them. Her eyes glistened whenever she talked about them. She knew that she and “Big Stan” done right in raising these two kids. She loved to hear stories about Stanley and Barbara and she would insist they be repeated at every get-together.

Like the often told story about our trip to Ocean City, Maryland. I will offer some details, but there is much more to this than I have space for here.

Barbara and her daughter, Maria, left for Ocean City to join Stanley, his wife Carol and their daughter Brittany, for a vacation. Barbara and Maria took my vehicle and I was to come down the next day in Barbara’s car.

When I got to the entrance to some toll road, traffic was backed up. There were several lines. As I was waiting for traffic to clear, I glanced to my left to see a car speeding right at me, perpendicular to traffic. The young driver appeared to be panicked. He couldn’t stop. He hit the side of Barbara’s car.

After clearing up that mess, I continued on to Ocean City, now in even more need of a few relaxing days at the beach. Once I found Route 1 South — and that wasn’t easy — I made it, finally. I called Barbara to tell her I was in the parking lot. Everyone came running down — to see how badly the car was damaged. I can remember saying to no one listening that I was fine as well.

The next day we all went to the beach. To say the seas were rough this day would be an understatement. The waves were huge, sending me to the ocean floor several times, causing me to swallow sea water, seaweed and my pride. I managed to escape, leaving Stanley and his daughter behind laughing hysterically.

The experience left me with one less swim shoe and two very painful ear infections, which by the way, I was treated for at a roadside clinic that I had to find and get to on my own because my friends could not leave the beach.

Additionally, when the antibiotics were finally giving me some relief, I got to sleep, only to be awakened by Stanley across the room who for no apparent reason woke up and started shouting. It scared the bejeezus out of me. When I tried to find out what was going on, Stanley had already fell back to sleep and snoring as my infected ears resumed pulsating with pain.

Every time I told this story, Mrs. Shevock cried with laughter.

Her house was dark the other night, but the light she brought to each of us will never go out.

God bless The Champ. May she be in eternal rest and may we all be thankful for the light she gave us all.