I was shocked and saddened to learn about Maggie Osler’s death. We were best friends from about age 9 till 14, and kept in touch only sporadically after that. I visited Maggie in Calgary about 3 or 4 years ago when my husband was taking a sabbatical in Saskatoon. Since then email contact has lapsed except for political types of messages forwarded to a list.
When I first met Maggie, we were both new kids in grade 5 at P.S. 221 in Baltimore, Maryland. She had moved there from New York City and I from Palo Alto, California. We were both somewhat in culture shock in that segregated school system where morning prayers were mandatory. Both of us suffered with the very uncool name, Margaret, in a sea of Nancys and Lindas and Carols. We didn’t know how to play jacks or jump-rope or the type of hopscotch played in that part of the world which involved kicking a rubber heel out of the grid. So we spent a lot of time hanging out at the corner of the playground and staying overnight at each other’s houses. Maggie’s parents introduced me to bagels and lox, pickled herring in sour cream, chopped liver, and kosher dill pickles. Her dad was a bacteriologist at Johns Hopkins Medical School, but had at one time studied to become a rabbi. He listened to Yiddish radio on Sunday mornings. Her mom had originally aspired to be an engineer, but ended up with a PhD in Psychology, teaching at Goucher College near Baltimore. Later Maggie and I were sent to different Junior High Schools and High Schools in Baltimore during which time she skipped a grade. She went to Swarthmore and I to a college on the West Coast. At one point we were both in Oregon for a couple of years and were able to do a little skiing or hiking together. On my most recent visit to see her in Calgary, I saw that some things had never changed—Maggie’s love of cats, good food, and a beautiful and quiet living environment. Her cat, Jackson Brown, was a charmer. I hope that if he is still alive, he has found a good home. One surprise was Maggie’s love of country music. It must have been acquired during her years in Calgary. My siblings, husband, and I remember Maggie fondly. Me ke aloha.
Margaret Brown
