She’d grown up on Barclay Street at 26th, gone to the nearby Margaret Brent School, and raised her family in the suburbs. Her family’s roots in the Greenmount Avenue, Barclay and Boone streets area were where her heart was. She had aunts, uncles and cousins living all over the 21218 ZIP code. And she had those memories.

While looking for a home, she spotted the restored and renovated houses coming on the market in the 400 block of East 22nd Street.

About five years ago, she moved to this block, which is now officially listed as part of the Barclay-Greenmount Historic District, a sort of urban village anchored by the Gothic Revival architecture and tall spire of St. Ann’s Catholic Church. Though St. Ann’s was officially closed by the Archdiocese of Baltimore, it retains its school, Mother Seton Academy.

“My house is amazing. I have three bedrooms and 2 1/2 baths,” said Boyd, an M&T Bank auditor. “People who visit my house are amazed to see how it looks on the inside.”

Her longtime neighbor, Grace Willis, who keeps a beautiful home and garden at Barclay and 22nd, says the block’s transformation is real and convincing.

“It’s beginning to look as it did when I moved here — and I was in middle school then,” she said of her family’s settling on 22nd Street in the 1950s.

The block has 48 houses, many of them with fancy Victorian wooden embellishments (they look like tiny porches) off the third floor. They are outfitted with beautiful white marble — actually Baltimore County limestone — steps. The original builders added a nice feature: white marble curbing around what would be a tiny front lawn, except these lawns are all paved.

Michael Mazepink, a community housing strategist, began championing the block more than two decades ago, when its vacancy rate was over 40%. A Baltimore Sun article published several years later said, “Turnaround elusive for gritty Greenmount.”

“This block was basically being saved by a group of elderly widows who lived here,” said Mazepink, who founded the People’s Homesteading Group in 1983. “As houses went vacant, the ladies took wooden barrels and filled the tubs with flowers. They, of course, had flowers outside their own homes, so the block appeared OK and pretty. But it was not.”

Years of rain and snow tortured the roofs of the vacant houses. “The houses pancaked — the roofs collapsed downward and took the floors with them,” Mazepink said. “In some cases, all that was salvageable was a front wall. After the earthquake of 2011 and the rains that fall, one house bowed forward and was condemned by the city. It had to be taken apart brick by brick and then rebuilt.”

Mazepink became a one-person developer-housing dynamo, applying for grants and mastering the fine print of government housing assistance programs. “Michael is tenacious and detail-oriented,” said Charles Duff, who headed Jubilee Housing for many years. Duff’s group was his development lender.

“It’s an amazing block,” said Duff. “Architecturally it’s interesting and almost unique.”

Jake Wittenberg, whose Edgemont Builders recently finished nine home restorations on 22nd Street, said, “It’s a pleasure to work with passionate, mission-driven people.”

“The work is the result of years of fundraising and collaborations,” said Ellen Janes of the Central Baltimore Partnership. “It’s grassroots community revitalization at its best.”

“It offers homebuyers with modest incomes an opportunity to live in some of Baltimore’s most beautiful homes,” Janes said.

Janes also feels the strength of the 400 block of 22nd Street will mean that adjacent blocks — east of Greenmount Avenue and above Green Mount Cemetery — will be on a similar upswing.

“I saw the vacant houses as an opportunity,” Mazepink said. “Now we are getting appraisals for a three-story, renovated house with historic exterior features at $400,000. And it’s now a block with all income levels, from Section 8 housing to middle-class purchasers and everything in between.”

The refurbishment of 22nd Street is not isolated in this part of Baltimore near Green Mount Cemetery, St. Ann’s Church and other landmarks. Years of housing reinvestment are transforming Barclay, Old Goucher, Greenmount West and Johnston Square.

Asked about his 24 years focused on this block, Mazepink said, “I could have used some of those years back, but that doesn’t happen.”

Have a news tip? Contact Jacques Kelly at jacques.kelly@baltsun.com and 410-332-6570.

Born in Cincinnati, he was the son of William Seurkamp, a police officer, and his wife, Angie Elizabeth. As a high school student, he worked at Putnick’s hardware store and picked up skills in home repair, mechanics and construction. He attended Miami University in Ohio and earned a degree from SUNY Empire State in Rochester.

In 1959, he joined the Air Force and was stationed in Colorado and New Jersey. As an aircraft mechanic, he was assigned to Florida during the April 1961 Bay of Pigs invasion in Cuba.

After leaving the military, he joined Xerox Corporation in Cincinnati. He worked his way up from service technician to management and held posts with the firm in Boston; Greenwich, Connecticut; and Rochester, New York.

He became Xerox’s manager of industrial relations and multinational customer service strategy. Mr. Seurkamp received the Xerox President’s Award.

He met his future wife, Mary Pat Reuwer, on a date arranged by friends.

“I suggested a lunch because I thought it would not take up too much time. Then, three hours later, we were still talking,” she said.

After retiring from Xerox, Mr. Seurkamp achieved a lifetime dream: to buy and run a marina. He owned and operated the East Bluff Harbor Marina on one of the Finger Lakes, Keuka Lake, in upstate New York.

“It was a lot of work for him,” his wife said. “He turned the marina around and wound up storing more than 300 boats over the winter.” Mr. Seurkamp also raced hydroplane craft and had earlier raced stock cars.

After his wife was named president of what is now Notre Dame of Maryland University in 1997, he became a presence at university events. They lived in Roland Park, and he assisted with her duties at home receptions and gatherings.

“So much of fundraising is about cultivating friendships, and that involves both partners,” his wife said. “People found Bob charming. I’d walk into a room and people would ask, ‘Where’s Bob?'”

Mr. Seurkamp also traveled with his wife to the Franz Mayer studio in Munich, Germany, to inspect work when the 19th-century stained-glass windows from the school’s Marikle Chapel of the Annunciation were restored.

“Bob’s commitment to his faith, his steadfast dedication to the Church’s mission in Baltimore and to Catholic education are truly commendable,” said Archbishop William Lori in a statement. “Mary Pat is a true pioneer in Catholic education, and Bob’s unwavering support of her work and accomplishments was evident in all that he did.”

After moving to Baltimore, Mr. Seurkamp started a consulting business in labor relations and strategic planning. He was also named executive director of the Maryland Governor’s Workforce Investment Board by Gov. Robert Ehrlich.

He collected Early American pottery, amassing a collection of more than 200 pitchers and teaching a course about this era of pottery-making. He and his wife later bought a home in Middle River on Sue Creek, which he rebuilt from the studs up. The residence housed his collection of American saltware and spongeware pottery pitchers.

Services will be held at 11:30 a.m. Monday at the Marikle Chapel of the Annunciation, Theresa Hall, on the campus of Notre Dame of Maryland University at 4701 N. Charles St.

Survivors include his wife of 43 years, Mary Pat Reuwer Seurkamp; two daughters, Kris Seurkamp Knauf, of Rochester, and Alison Brooke Pierce, of Lewisberry, Pennsylvania; a son, Robert Everett Seurkamp, of Halethorpe; and three sisters, Beverly Desmarais and Sharon Hunter, both of Clearwater, Florida, and Debi Gerbus of Cincinnati. His first wife, Joan Everett Seurkamp, died in 1972.

Have a news tip? Contact Jacques Kelly at jacques.kelly@baltsun.com and 410-332-6570.

“Doug played the villain or straight man, the man in authority,” Waters said. “He took direction well. His character often reacted meanly or insanely, a character who was against the morals of my world — which was actually correct.”

Born Lloyd Douglas Roberts in Richmond, Kentucky, he was the son of Lloyd Roberts, an insurance salesman, and his wife, Ann, who raised show dogs. He was a Lafayette High School graduate in Lexington, Kentucky, and was a graduate of the University of Kentucky.

Mr. Roberts moved to Manhattan and appeared with George C. Scott in the Circle in the Square Theatre’s production of “Desire Under the Elms.” He was also a page and talent coordinator for the “Today” show at Rockefeller Center.

When a new dinner theater, The Barn, opened near Richmond, Virginia, he became intrigued by the concept. He tried it briefly and later moved on, in 1966, to the Oregon Ridge Dinner Theatre in Cockeysville.

Mr. Roberts proposed marriage to his future wife, Tara Russo, at the final game of the 1966 World Series between the Orioles and the Los Angeles Dodgers. She replied, “Only if we win.” The Orioles won, and the two married a year later.

When times were lean, he became a waiter at the old Charcoal Hearth and Oyster Bay restaurants in downtown Baltimore and worked in public relations at the Painters Mill Music Fair and for the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra. He later bought into the Bolton Hill Dinner Theatre, where he described himself as a cook, actor, director, owner, and dishwasher and bottle washer.

“There were, in Baltimore’s early days of theater and dinner theater and radio and TV and movies and ad voice-overs, a few people like Doug who were talented, willing to work hard and were very generous,” said Stanley Heuisler, the former Baltimore Magazine editor who acted in the 1970s. “And they were respected as the warm, genuine and professional people. Doug could do, and did, it all. And very well.”

Mr. Roberts found that a good living could be made doing commercials and voice-overs for local advertising agencies. His family said he was in more than 5,000 commercials — often anonymously. He sold cars, furniture and appliances over the air, uncredited. He also handled political campaign announcements.

But as Baltimore began attracting film scouts for location work, Mr. Roberts found himself in demand.

He appeared in “Homicide: Life on the Street” and “The Wire.” He also appeared in John Waters’ “Hairspray,” “Cecil B. Demented,” “Serial Mom” and “A Dirty Shame.”

At Maryland Public Television, Mr. Roberts appeared in “Book, Look, and Listen,” alongside singer Ethel Ennis; hosted the food documentary “Eatin’ Crab Cakes: The Best I Ever Had!”; performed in the “Consumer Survival Kit”; and did comic skits in “Crabs.”

An MPT colleague and director, Richard George, said: “‘Crabs’ was a live-on-the-air sketch comedy show featuring local talent that won 13 Emmys, and Doug was our comedy director. He was the smooth 350 V-8 engine under the hood of ‘Crabs’ that drove us to airtime on every show.”

His favorite film was 1997’s “G.I. Jane,” in which he had a scene with Anne Bancroft.

He also appeared on WBAL-TV and WBAL Radio as an entertainment and food reporter called the Beltway Gourmet.

A baseball and basketball fan, Mr. Roberts served on the Babe Ruth Birthplace Museum’s board. He also fished, hunted and collected penknives.

“He was outgoing and generous, almost to a fault,” his wife said. “But most of all, he was a family man and loved his grandchildren. He was proud to have been a working actor all his life.”

Survivors include his wife of 58 years, Tara Russo Roberts, a retired Baltimore County Schools teacher; two daughters, Hilary Roberts-King and Amy McLoughlin, both of Baltimore; a son, J. Brooke Roberts, of Marietta, Georgia; and eight grandchildren.

The Ruck Towson Funeral Home is handling the funeral arrangements.

Have a news tip? Contact Jacques Kelly at jacques.kelly@baltsun.com and 410-332-6570.

Born in Baltimore, he was the son of Irving Alter, an attorney who owned the Whitelock Realty Co., and his wife, Lucille. He was a 1962 Baltimore City College graduate and earned a Bachelor of Arts degree in political science from Brown University, where he excelled as a lacrosse goalie.

Mr. Alter served in the Air Force as a medic and assisted in delivering babies at Andrews Air Force Base. He was a 1970 graduate of the University of Maryland School of Law.

He joined the Manekin firm in 1971 and oversaw corporate operations, including the development of more than 20 million square feet of industrial property in Hampton, Virginia, Annapolis and Howard and Frederick counties.

“My father worked until the day he died,” said his son, Zach Alter. “He had his own style. He was kind and cool. He always said that people never worked for him. They worked with him.”

Thomas Bozzuto, a fellow developer and close friend, said: “He always brought a new idea, a thought you hadn’t considered. He brought it with a twinkle in his eye. Yet a twinkle that you knew could be trusted. Richard was a first-class real estate developer. But far more than that, he was a good and iconic man.”

Donald Manekin, a former Manekin Corp. partner, said Mr. Alter shared a vision with James Rouse about Columbia’s commercial real estate potential.

Mr. Manekin also said, “Richard also brought a 21st century understanding for financing by creating relations with institutions like Copley Real Estate Advisors in Boston and Mercantile in Baltimore to our firm.”

Mr. Alter worked extensively in Columbia along Gateway Drive and in Upper Marlboro in Prince George’s County at the National Capital Business Park.

He served on the boards of the Johns Hopkins Heart Institute Initiative Advisory Council, Sinai Hospital of Baltimore, Camp Shoresh, Beth Tfiloh Congregation, the Baltimore City Housing Partnership, Levindale Hebrew Geriatric Center and Hospital, the Maryland Heart Association and the Elijah Cummings Youth Program in Israel.

Mr. Alter was a member of Beth Tfiloh Congregation and a past president of the Beth Tfiloh Dahan Community School.

A statement on the Brown University Athletic Hall of Fame says Mr. Alter “is considered the premier goalie in Brown lacrosse history.” He was named All-American, All-Ivy and All-New England. He was also named the outstanding lacrosse player of the year in 1966 by the U.S. Intercollegiate Lacrosse Association.

Survivors include his wife of 49 years, Rosalie Kershman Alter, a Beth Tfiloh Congregation volunteer; a son, J. Zachariah Alter, of Baltimore; two daughters, Jamie Deutsch, of New Rochelle, New York, and Kelly Alter, of Vail, Colorado; two sisters, Mary Malinow, of Pikesville and Kathy Gottschalk, of Atlanta; and eight grandchildren.

Services were Friday at Sol Levinson & Brothers.

Have a news tip? Contact Jacques Kelly at jacques.kelly@baltsun.com and 410-332-6570.

He was taken by ambulance to the Johns Hopkins Hospital, where his death was confirmed an hour after the accident.

Born in Baltimore, he was the son of William George Herman, a Hardware Fair manager, and his wife, Priscilla Engle Herman. He attended Leith Walk Elementary, St. Matthew’s School and Ridgely Junior High, and graduated from Towson High School. He also studied at what is now Towson University and earned a degree from the Maryland Institute College of Art.

Mr. Herman lived in Cork Factory, a Guilford Avenue cooperative studio building, and was well known in the Station North arts community.

A neighbor, Lou Linden, said: “Dave was a productive artist and primarily a painter whose recent landscapes were really quite good. People said he was coming into his own. He was becoming an overnight sensation after 25 years of work.”

Another neighbor, Robert Levine, said: “Dave was a free spirit. He was a social guy and seemed to know everyone. He was an excellent artist and often talked of selling his unit one day and living on a beach.”

Mr. Herman, who took commissions for his art, also was in demand as a bartender for caterers.

“As a bartender, he liked to talk. He was magnanimous and always open to chatting with his patrons at the parties he worked,” said Liz Lord, a co-worker. “He was a joy to be around. He was carefree and laid-back.”

She also said: “Dave had a lot of chosen family and was widely networked in the music and arts community. He cared greatly for his Greenmount West and Station North neighborhoods. And yet he always wanted to leave Baltimore behind and pursue a simple life in the [Florida] Keys or the Caribbean.”

Ms. Lord said he worked parties in Bolton Hill and Roland Park and for events associated with private schools, including Bryn Mawr, Gilman, McDonogh and the St. Paul’s Schools.

“He worked with us for 15 years,” said Carey Talucci, owner of Talucci Fine Foods. “He was the best employee. He was low-maintenance. He always showed up. He was the last to leave a party because he was discussing things with our guests. They all loved him. He never got stressed in the party battle. If things got tense, he’d turn to yoga and we’d find him standing on his head on the lawn.”

“His paintings were stunning and beautiful,” Ms. Talucci said. “And he loved to surf.”

Kevin Simmons, a fellow bartender and friend, said: “Dave was a gentle soul who had a way of touching people. He found a commonality with them.”

A memorial will be held from 4 p.m. to 7 p.m. Aug 10 at Area 405 at 405 E. Oliver St.

Survivors include his father and stepmother, William George and Gail Herman, of Selbyville, Delaware; his brother, Christopher Herman, of Corning, New York; and a half-sister, Stacey Herman, of Baltimore.

Have a news tip? Contact Jacques Kelly at jacques.kelly@baltsun.com and 410-332-6570.

The Royalton in the 1960s and 1970s was delightfully out of touch. The rooms were small and the baths could be down the hall. It had a screened front porch full of rocking chairs. The geraniums in its front planter were bright red. You could take your breakfast and dinner in the hotel dining room, where alcohol was never served or mentioned. If you required air conditioning, open a window.

In short, it was a classic seaside hotel.

A constant presence was its owner/manager, Alma Lewis, who was known in an endearing way as “Nubs.” I was not her accountant, but she made more income from a trio of newer apartment houses she owned across the street that had somewhat better accommodations.

Some of the Royalton guests could be as eccentric as the hotel itself. There was a woman we called “Room Nine.” During Hurricane Agnes in 1972, the tropical depression caused Rehoboth streets to flood. Room Nine appeared in an inner tube where cars normally parked. She was a Baltimorean and could be spotted on the Northwood bus.

For many years, my family bunked at the house next door at No. 8 Wilmington Avenue in Rehoboth. Our third-floor windows (we called our space the “attic,” which it was) overlooked the hotel. On many nights, I think we had more guests than the Royalton because that third floor seemed to just be the spot where everyone wanted to be. Our building came with a huge parking lot, steps away from the ocean, making it a desirable destination.

Occasionally, some of my parents’ more proper guests would ask for other places to stay, and if they were old-fashioned in their tastes, we shipped them into the Royalton.

For several years, my younger sisters became the Royal waitresses. The food (homemade rolls and pies) was plain and simple and tasted like July and August. My sisters were all likely too young to get work permits. My mother and Aunt Cora were steps away. Besides, the Royalton was about as racy as rice pudding.

After a while, the fire and safety people caught up with inspections and the all-wood summer hotel flunked their tests. The property was sold to the people who owned the adjoining amusement park. The hotel then did an amazing second act and re-emerged as a first-floor-only business known as the Royal Treat.

The Royal Treat was an ice cream parlor after 1 p.m. In the morning, its servers produced a breakfast very similar to the old Royalton fare, except the food was so heavenly the lines could stretch down Wilmington Avenue. I think the breakfast-ice cream parlor version of the Royalton made more money in a week than the seaside hotel did in a season.

Mrs. Lewis was not around for the success of the Royal Treat. It was operated by several generations of the Formwalt family, who somehow managed to retain her plain, chaste and special quality of the old hotel in their new enterprise.

It had everything going wrong for it: cash only, non-air-conditioned, no parking lot, long lines and vigilant meter maids ready to slap on a parking ticket. Yet it was a smashing success.

The old hotel register and front desk became the ice cream dipping counter. The hotel dining room became the breakfast room. The old rules applied — plain pine floor, open windows, fans when sweltering. The wildest thing on the menu was a toasted English muffin. Captain Crunch did not embellish a meal.

The rocking chairs disappeared from the front porch and were replaced by dining tables and bentwood chairs.

Scott Formwalt ran the griddle in the hotel kitchen. My grandmother made excellent pancakes, but his were in a class of their own. His secret? Simplicity, non-doughy, but that doesn’t begin to describe how scrumptious they were. He also had a masterful way with eggs and only a few places I know can do an omelet as he could.

At night, he supervised a staff of young kids who dished up a zillion Moose Tracks sundaes and real chocolate ice cream sodas, the exact variety that Hutzler’s basement luncheonette served. The ice cream was Hershey’s and the Formwalt family did not charge designer ice cream prices. The Royal Treat was just as mobbed at night as it was for breakfast.

All good things come to an end, and so did the Royalton-Royal Treat in 2022, after 41 years of making many people happy.

Debbie Formwalt, the hostess and a co-owner, oversaw the seating for the breakfast shift. One day, I said to her that I had noticed a captain of Baltimore’s investment banking at another table. She informed me that he was outranked. She seated First Lady Laura Bush the day before.

Have a news tip? Contact Jacques Kelly at jacques.kelly@baltsun.com and 410-332-6570.

Born in Boston, she was the daughter of Antonio Aucella, a Naples, Italy-born immigrant who settled in Revere, Massachusetts. He founded a construction business and was its architect and builder. Her mother was Rose Carbone, an accomplished home cook.

She met her future husband, Joe Crivello, in 1948 at a wedding in Revere.

“My father had recently left the Navy and he had crashed the wedding,” said her daughter, Donna Crivello. “They married two years later.”

The couple settled in Revere and raised their two children. Mrs. Crivello also cared for her elderly parents.

“She could pull together amazing family dinners and make it seem effortless,” said her daughter, Donna. “She was a perfectionist in the kitchen and liked to work alone.”

“My mother also worked as a dentist’s assistant, and when a nearby shop — the Sit ‘n Snack — was up for sale, she wanted to buy it. My father did not like the idea. But years later, she managed a small Italian bakery in Revere.”

After daughter Donna opened her chain of coffee shops and restaurants in Baltimore, Mrs. Crivello and her husband were dining at the Mount Vernon location at Charles and Madison streets one day.

“My mother said to me, I can make ravioli better than what you have here,” her daughter said. “And soon we had perfect triangles of large raviolis she shipped to us from outside Boston.”

By 1998, Mrs. Crivello and her husband moved to Baltimore, where she began assisting her daughter in her expanding restaurant and coffee cafe business. She worked at Donna’s at the Village of Cross Keys and at the University of Maryland Medical Center on Greene Street in downtown Baltimore.

“She was a presence in the restaurants. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see if someone dropped a fork or a napkin. She knew if a diner was signaling for attention,” her daughter, Donna, said.

After her daughter became involved with Baltimore’s Cosima restaurant, Mrs. Crivello made pastries, bread and raviolis at the Falls Road, Mill No. 1 dining establishment.

Judie Golding, the owner of the restaurant Cosima, said, “Ro [Rosemarie] taught Donna the family recipes. Since we opened, we had Mama’s Meatballs and her eggplant parmesan. And Ro could come in and make her pizoles — waffle cookies for our gelato. We treasured her.”

Golding also said, “We have regular, returning customers, and Ro imparted a warm, family feeling for them. It set the tone for Cosima.”

“She herself remembered people and had a good memory for names. She definitely had the hospitality gene,” said Golding.

Mrs. Crivello also enjoyed shopping, watching episodes of the TV show “Gunsmoke” and playing poker.

A memorial Mass will be held at 11 a.m. July 26 at St. Casimir Church, 2800 O’Donnell St. in Canton.

Survivors include her daughter, Donna Crivello, of Baltimore. Her son, Paul Crivello, died in 1981. Her husband, Joe Crivello, died in 2015 and was a Boston Globe printer.

Have a news tip? Contact Jacques Kelly at jacques.kelly@baltsun.com and 410-332-6570.

Born in Danville, Virginia, he was the son of Ernest B. Furgurson, a printer at the Danville Register and Bee, and his wife, Passie Ferguson. He was a first lieutenant in the Marine Corps and earned bachelor’s and master’s degrees from Columbia University after attending Averett College in Danville.

He worked nights at the Associated Press in New York City, the Roanoke World-News and the Richmond News Leader before joining The Sun in 1956. His date of employment coincided with the day the essayist and critic H.L. Mencken died.

In a 2019 article in the American Scholar, he listed his ambitions — “get out of town, go to Washington, don a trench coat, chase wars.”

As a new hire he was a general assignment reporter and covered strip mining in Garrett County, illegal game hunting on the Eastern Shore and local politics.

He also boarded the foundering African Queen, a Liberian tanker that had been abandoned by its crew off Ocean City, and wrote of efforts to salvage the damaged ship.

Mr. Furgurson soon became a member of The Sun’s Washington bureau. He initially commuted to Washington and recalled catching a morning train with congressmen Eddie Garmatz and George Fallon to make it to the Capitol by 10 a.m.

He wrote of Richard Nixon’s defeat by President John F. Kennedy in 1960. He also covered the failed Bay of Pigs invasion of Cuba and the workings of the Kennedy and Lyndon B. Johnson administrations.

“Pat was the ultimate wordsmith,” said Sun colleague Gilbert Lewthwaithe. “Growing up in Danville, he was sensitive to racial issues, but he was not an emotional writer. His experience was vast, nationally and internationally. He had strong opinions about race relations and humanity in general.”

“He was an acute observer of politics,” Mr. Lewthwaithe said. “And as an ex-Marine, he liked journalists who could hit the ground running and be speedy both on their feet and in their minds.”

He was a foreign correspondent at The Sun’s Moscow bureau and reported on the Vietnam War from Saigon.

He wrote the main story from the Republican and Democratic political conventions and began writing a column in 1969. He was named bureau chief in 1975 and by 1981 his column was syndicated. He retired in 1992.

Another colleague, Muriel Dobbin, said, “Pat was a superb reporter and a very good writer and was very funny as well. I think he introduced the world to the martini.”

“He was the kind of reporter who liked to go out drinking with cops. He could also be tough. He once yelled at me when I pronounced ‘Potomac’ wrong,” said Ms. Dobbin, who was born in Edinburgh, Scotland. “Pat was very much a Southerner and could tell some very funny stories about Lyndon Johnson.”

After leaving The Sun, he wrote works of history and biography, including Freedom Rising: Washington in the Civil War. He also wrote for National Geographic, Smithsonian magazine and Mid-Atlantic Country.

Carl P. Leubsdorf, a Sun colleague who later became Washington bureau chief of The Dallas Morning News, said, “Pat was cerebral and smart. Though he came out of the segregated South, he was a liberal.”

“Pat was a brilliant writer, a graceful writer. He said he had to write to know how he thought. His interests were so broad and his interests were so high — he set a terrific example in our bureau,” said Paul West, who also headed the bureau. “He was one of the greats of that era. He was the consummate gentleman and held himself to high standards. He showed us how it should be done.”

He was elected to Washington’s Gridiron Club in 1977 and was its historian from 1992 to 2002.

Survivors include his wife of 52 years, Cassie Thompson Furgurson, a retired Time magazine researcher; a daughter, Elisabeth Glyn Pogue, of Lake Ridge, Virginia; and three grandchildren. His son, E.B. Furgurson III, a former Annapolis Capital Gazette reporter who covered the killing of five of his newspaper co-workers from the back of his pickup truck, died in 2024.

Services are private.

Have a news tip? Contact Jacques Kelly at jacques.kelly@baltsun.com and 410-332-6570.

Born in Baltimore and raised on Glenmore Avenue in Hamilton, he was the son of George Parker Phillips Jr., a produce broker and his wife, Ann Marie Guerloff. He was a Baltimore City College graduate and earned a bachelor’s degree in history from Loyola University Maryland. He wrestled and was soccer team captain.

After briefly working for his father in the wholesale produce business, Mr. Phillips joined the Marriott Corp. and worked at its Hot Shoppes in the Washington, D.C., metro area. He was part of the opening crew of the Twin Bridges Marriott, an early development of the firm.

On March 2, 1960, he opened George Phillips’ Harbour House on the Annapolis City Dock. He sold the business in October 1995.

“A skeptical Annapolis person said he wouldn’t last six months,” said his daughter, Cora Stewart. “My father bought a piece of land that was then known as Hell’s Point. Annapolitans said it was a rough part of town and they didn’t think people would want to go there to dine. My father said it had a good view across the water and parking.”

She also said, “My father’s restaurant was a catalyst for the development of the City Dock.”

“My father was outgoing, jovial and hardworking,” his daughter said. “He was a mentor to all the young people who worked at the restaurant over the years.”

She said the restaurant was an immediate success. He enlarged the restaurant and added a terrace. He also had Brendan’s fine dining at the same site.

At a time when Annapolis restaurants were racially segregated, Mr. Phillips stated his restaurant would welcome any diner.

His son, Glenn Phillips, said, “My father was a strong supporter of social justice, and a pioneer of DEI before it was defined… He opened the first integrated restaurant in Annapolis and the Black community showed their loyalty until he closed the doors. He hired dining and kitchen staff from all walks of life.”

“He also embraced the watermen who came into the harbor and built up that section of the City Dock to be a place that people would enjoy,” his son Glenn said.

“We offered a good product — people were coming to the City Dock for his crab cakes. Crab was king for us,” said his son, Kurt Phillips, who worked at the restaurant for 15 years. “My father worked very hard. Every night, he cooked.”

“Our Maryland vegetable crab soup came from a recipe from his father-in-law, Ed Kuhl, who lived on Monroe Street in Baltimore in Pigtown,” said his son, Kurt. “The vegetable crab was our second-best seller after cream of crab. The Maryland clam chowder was our third seller in the soup category.”

In the 1960s, a popular seller was the fisherman’s platter — fried flounder, shrimp, scallops, clams and a crab cake.

For dessert, Mr. Phillips created Captain’s Confection, an ice cream pie and a Harbour House cheese pie.

He was associated with several restaurants, including the Whitehall Inn on Route 50 near the Bay Bridge, Sir Gallahad’s in Linthicum, Georgio’s in Edgewater and the Carpetbagger and Scalawag Lounge at the Holiday Inn in Parole.

He later built the Swashbuckler in Frederiksted, Saint Croix and ran the Hungry Hound, a hot dog, fried chicken and ice cream operation on Main Street.

After Mr. Phillips retired in the mid-1990s and moved to Hilton Head Island, he retained his love of cooking and hospitality.

A funeral will be held at 10:30 a.m. July 19 at First Presbyterian Church on Hilton Head Island.

Survivors include his wife of 36 years, Martha Long Phillips, a retired nurse anesthetist; three daughters, Cora Stewart, of Hanover, Amy Phillips, of Linthicum, and Jennifer Good, of Auburn, Alabama;  four sons, Stephen Phillips, of Westchester, Pennsylvania, Kurt Phillips, of Arnold, Glenn Phillips, of Atlanta and Karl Phillips, of Severna Park; 11 grandchildren and 8 great-grandchildren. He was formerly married to Joan Kuhl Phillips.

Have a news tip? Contact Jacques Kelly at jacques.kelly@baltsun.com and 410-332-6570.

Born in Copenhagen, Denmark, she was the daughter of Carl Jochens, a printer, and his wife, Valborg, a secretary. She attended schools in Copenhagen and earned a master’s degree at the University of Copenhagen.

“She was an internationally renowned historian of medieval Iceland,” said her son, Peter Baldwin.

In 1954, she met her future husband, historian John W. Baldwin, in Paris, where they both had research fellowships.

“After a whirlwind romance in Paris, they were married in Holte, on the outskirts of Copenhagen, on Christmas Eve 1954,” said her son.

They settled in Baltimore in 1961 and lived for many years in the 4800 block of Roland Avenue. The family called the home the “Yellow Pumpkin” because of its exterior color scheme.

She gave birth to four children, and when the youngest was in kindergarten, she returned to her professional career. She joined the faculty of Towson University in 1966 and was later named a professor of history. She retired in 1995.

“Her specialty was the history of medieval Iceland,” her son said. “The Icelandic sagas were written down in the 13th century, but purport to deal with events and people during the 9th and 10th centuries. The sagas were works of literature, but historians have used them to shed light on the nature of medieval, pre-Christian life in Scandinavia.

“My mother’s contribution to the extensive literature on the sagas was to focus on what they reveal about the role of women in Icelandic society,” he said.

Her two books both dealt with this theme: “Women in Old Norse Society” and “Old Norse Images of Women.”

Ms. Jochens became a specialist in women’s history and helped found the Women’s Studies Program at Towson.

She also befriended the then-president of Iceland, Vigdís Finnbogadóttir, whom she met sitting across a table in the reading room of the Danish National Archives in Copenhagen.

“When the president of Iceland paid state visits to Washington, on at least one occasion, she also visited my mother at her home in Roland Park, the visit was preceded by a thorough secret service security sweep of the premises,” her son said.

“Icelandic history being an esoteric field, my mother’s scholarly library was specialized and unique,” her son said. ” On her retirement from Towson, it was left to the Hopkins library.”

In October 2015, the history department at Towson University held a conference in her honor, entitled “Goddesses, Queens, Valkyries, and Other Women in the Viking Age.”

“My mother was a fabulous cook and had a preference for French cooking and did it very well,” her son said. “She hosted many dinner parties at our home.”

She attended the Danish Seamen’s Church in Fells Point.

Survivors include her three sons, Peter Baldwin, of New York City, Ian Baldwin, of Cedaredge, Colorado and Christopher Baldwin, of Boston; seven grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren. Her daughter, Birgit Baldwin, died in 1988. Her husband, John W. Baldwin, a Johns Hopkins University historian of medieval France, died in 2015.

Have a news tip? Contact Jacques Kelly at jacques.kelly@baltsun.com and 410-332-6570.