Page 6 THE MALDEN ADVOCATE–Friday, January 13, 2023 ~ Malden Musings ~ Elizabeth “Betty” (Prince) O’Brien By Peter F. Levine A regular contributor to this column, Dave O’Brien’s mom, Betty, passed away on December 26, 2022, after a life – by any measure – well lived. Dave was a Malden original. A Malden High Athletic Hall of Famer graduating in 1977, O’B used his brain as well as brawn to become a leader amongst his peers. As a senior Dave captained the football and wrestling teams, earning that coveted spot in the Hall. Dave graduated from UMass Amherst in 1981, is a published author (“Heroes of the Seventh Crisis”), has always been a free thinker, and above all else, a compassionate global citizen. Dave has accomplished much in his short existence here on earth but his contributions to my column over the years, priceless to me. Need a hall for your special event? The Schiavo Club, located at 71 Tileston Street, Everett is available for your Birthdays, Anniversaries, Sweet 16 parties and more? Call Dennis at (857) 249-7882 for details. Law Offices of Terrence W. Kennedy 512 Broadway, Everett • Criminal Defense • Personal Injury • Medical Malpractice Tel: (617) 387-9809 Cell: (617) 308-8178 twkennedylaw@gmail.com I did not know Betty. I wish I had. Dave was kind enough to share some thoughts on his beloved mom: “In the summer of 1970, on a bus from Medford Square, I heard my mother, Elizabeth (Prince) O’Brien, laugh. I remember it because it was the fi rst time in a long time that I’d heard her laugh. “For that, I need to back up. “My brother Danny didn’t have an easy life. Short, but not easy. “Artistic. Not athletic. Probably gay. An earring. Polka dot shirts. Round, tinted glasses like John Lennon. Teased. Ridiculed. “But he somehow found like-minded friends from places like Harvard Square. I recall a Black girl with an afro crashing in our attic for a couple of days. On her journey. “Danny fi rst ran away when he was maybe thirteen. Definitely by fourteen. My parents, overwhelmed with worry, called the police. Danny landed in juvenile detention in Roslindale. There, they gave him a buzzcut and treated him cruelly. I guess to teach him...something. “It taught my parents a lesson: Do not call the police when Danny runs away. Which he did. I believe for a time he found his way into some kind of group shelter for youth at risk. “My parents were splitting up, but they took turns visiting Danny and taking him and his fellow street urchins out for something to eat. Just surviving. I remember my mother telling me that Danny was losing his hearing from all the rock concerts. “So now, summer of ’70. I suffer from chronic swimmer’s ear. I’m a water rat with long hair. Water gets in. Gets trapped. Infection. Pain. My mother sits with ~ Home of the Week ~ SAUGUS.....Nicely located 7 room Colonial features 3 bedrooms, 2 full baths, fireplace living room, entertainment-size dining room with built in china cabinet, desirable first floor family room with skylight, eat-in kitchen, great closet space, natural woodwork, updated roof, level lot, conveniently located just outside Saugus Center. Come make this your own - Welcome Home! Offered at $459,900 335 Central Street, Saugus, MA 01906 (781) 233-7300 View the interior of this home right on your smartphone. View all our listings at: CarpenitoRealEstate.com Elizabeth “Betty” (Prince) O’Brien me and holds me when the pain keeps me up at night. She says, David, please let us cut your hair. I say, no, no, no. And I punch the pillow. “And I’m a movie fi end. Escapism, baby. I see every movie that comes to town. And I’m already fi nding my way to the Boston theaters. “It’s a hot summer day. I’m looking forward to the evening and meeting my dad at the Granada. He’s living at the Y.M.C.A. Like always, it’s a double feature. The Five Man Army and Captain Nemo and The Underwater City. “I’m about to head out. The phone rings. My mother answers. Listens. Hangs up. She says to me, tell your father Danny was hit by a car. “I run to the Granada. I’m thinking: Danny ruined my movie night. Death doesn’t occur to me. I’m picturing Danny with a cast on his leg. Upon hearing my news, my father turns and runs to fi nd a phone. “Danny is a week in a coma. And then he dies. Sad times. Tough times. “But life itself goes on. And so does my earache. My mother brings me to a specialist in Medford Square. He puts a wick in my ear and tells me to stay out of the water for the rest of the summer (yeah, right) and then get a bathing cap (yeah, right). “We are on our way to the bus stop when we spot a hippie with a backpack. Clearly lost. He’s asking for directions but he’s being ignored. My mother leads me to him. He’s trying to fi nd Harvard Square. She draws him a map. She gives him a fi ve-dollar bill. And she tells him about Danny. They hug for what seems a very long time. The hippie and my mom. In the middle of the square in the middle of the day. “He says to me: Take care or your mother, little man. And off he goes. On his journey. “We’re standing there on the sidewalk, watching him walk away. We notice a woman my mother’s age, even dressed like her, walk by the hippie and give him a look of disgust. Then, seeing my mother, and, I guess wanting to make some kind of connection, she rolls her eyes and shakes her head. My mother says to her, ‘he’s beautiful.’ “I turn to look at the woman. She’s staggering. She has one hand on a storefront glass. As if to keep her balance. You’d think my mother had hit her with a left uppercut. “When we’re on the bus, I say, when he gets to Harvard Square, he can tell the other hippies that he met Danny O’Brien’s mother. “And she says, if he ever fi nds it. “And we both laugh. A good laugh. And I learn then that grief comes and goes. Interspersed with laughter. “My mom died at 12:20 a.m. December 26, 2022. “Over the next four days, I weep several times. Memories. Photos. Wanting to talk to her one more time. I’m left drained, exhausted, and stressed. And I just want to get through the formalities. Get it all over with. And go home. But when I walk into Spadafora’s, the fi rst person I see is John LoPresti. “He puts out his hand to shake and I try to arm drag him. And we laugh. “Then Dominic Sardo walks in. Still looking like he could bench press a house. More laughs. “Then Peter Menzies appears. He’d grown up on Auburn Street. There is a brief sad moment because my first instinct is to go get my mother and say, guess who’s here! She had adored Peter. And his brother Dennis. When she was really fed up with her own sons, she’d say, I’d trade the four of you right now for Dennis and P.J. Peter and I have a laugh over that. “Eddie Willcox shows up! He and Dominic come so close to wrestling. Right there in front of the sandwich table. I’m egging then on for some unfathomable reason. I have my hands on their backs, pushing then toward each other, saying, do it. Okay, so now I’m having almost too much fun. “And in between and mixed in with these moments of almost sheer giddiness is the return to grief. Elizabeth had ten siblings. There are cousins and aunts and people from my mother’s life. Remembering her. Missing her already. We are together in a colMUSINGS| SEE PAGE 7
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