1965: The Hargis Murders

By Richard Friend

In the early morning hours of Monday, October 18, 1965, Maryland State Trooper Robert Long was one of two officers at the Waterloo Barracks dispatched to a call in Laurel. Undoubtedly, he was unnerved to receive this particular call. As it turned out, the address, (14015 Bramble Lane, Apt. #T2) was that of his next door neighbors—the Hargis family.

The call was concerning the family’s four children.

(Photo: ©Associated Press. Collection of Richard Friend)

The quiet, Fox Rest Woods apartment complex, built just the previous year, certainly hadn’t experienced anything like what happened that Sunday night. Nor has it ever since, thankfully.

14015 Bramble Lane Today. (Photo: Richard Friend)
The Hargis Family apartment (lower right) as it appears today. (Photo: Richard Friend)
The Hargis’ apartment on the morning of October 18, 1965. (Photo: ©Associated Press. Collection of Richard Friend)

The ground floor terrace apartment had been home to Denver and Charlene Hargis and their four children. The family had only lived there for four months, having relocated from the Belair community in Bowie.

(Photo: ©Associated Press. Collection of Richard Friend)

Denver David Hargis wasn’t your average Laurel citizen. Born in Key West, Florida in 1921, he grew up in Coffeyville, Kansas, where he spent two years in the Navy before going into law school. He took an interest in politics, and eventually became a three-term mayor of his hometown. He was eventually elected as a U.S. Representative from Kansas, and served one term in Congress from 1959 to 1961. He was defeated in his re-election bid, and spent the next six years as a consultant with both the Department of Defense and the Department of Commerce.

Washburn University yearbook, 1948.

Charlene Hargis was born Charlene June Greer in 1928 and grew up in Kansas City, Missouri. She married Denver in 1951, and enjoyed working for her husband as a secretary during his term in Congress.

Northeast High School yearbook, Kansas City, 1944.
Denver and Charlene Hargis’ marriage license, August 18, 1951. (Source: Ancestry.com)

Mr. Hargis, however, didn’t plan on staying in Laurel for long. He and Charlene—45 and 37 years old, respectively—separated only a month after moving into the Fox Rest Woods apartment. That July, Mr. Hargis moved in with another woman in Vienna, Virginia—a 24-year-old divorcee named Betty Crotts, and her two sons.

Charlene and the kids—Sandra Lee, 12; Michael David, 8; Debra Sue, 5; and Brenda June, 2—were left behind in Laurel.

There’s nothing on the record about what officially caused the couple’s breakup. What is clear, however, is that it ultimately led to Mrs. Hargis’ breakdown.

Shortly before midnight, she picked up the telephone in her Laurel apartment, and called her estranged husband. When Betty Crotts answered, Charlene spoke:

“Tell Denver I killed the children.”
After a brief pause, she added, “No… I’ll tell him myself.”

Charlene had actually just called Denver a few minutes earlier, and had even seen him in person that evening. With all four kids in tow, she showed up at Betty’s doorstep with an ultimatum. According to Crotts, “She asked him, did he want to stay with me or go back with her and the kids. If he wouldn’t come back, she said she was just going to leave and hurt the kids.”

It was a few hours later, as Denver and Betty watched television, that the first phone call came. After a dismissive conversation, Denver explained that he would not be coming home to Laurel. The second phone call came “about two minutes later” according to Crotts.

Two minutes that were spent doing the unthinkable.

Mr. Hargis had never taken his wife’s threats seriously. He’d later claim that she had threatened to harm herself and the children several times in the past, but never believed she would actually follow through. But there was something about the way she spoke on this particular evening, however, that changed his mind. Maybe it was the way she simply hung up after relaying the chilling message.

“Call the police,” he instructed Betty. As she later testified, “He was going to go there himself, but he was afraid he couldn’t make it in time. He said she might be serious this time.”

Sadly, Charlene Hargis had been deadly serious.

Laurel News Leader, October 21, 1965

When Troopers Robert Long and Thomas Ingram arrived at the apartment on Bramble Lane, there was no answer at the door. Peering through a bedroom window of the ground floor unit, they could see the bodies of two children in their beds. Long quickly retrieved a crowbar from his police cruiser and forced the patio door open.

Each of the children had been shot once in the back of the head, while sleeping. 5-year-old Debra Sue was the only one clinging to life—but she, too, died within minutes, en route to the hospital. Joann Robison, wife of future Laurel mayor Joe Robison, was in the ambulance that terrible morning, on duty with the Laurel Rescue Squad. It was likely the worst scene experienced by the local first responders in their then thirteen-year history.

Trooper Long later described the scene as “an awful mess.” Reflecting on what he’d seen throughout his career, he said, “With adults, it doesn’t bother you near(ly) so much, but these were just innocent kids.” Surely, the tragedy affected him on a personal level, having lived next door to the Hargis family. The Hargis children, intrigued by their neighbor’s police uniform, had always cheerfully spoken to Long when they saw him on his way to and from work.

In the kitchen of the apartment, police found a .25 caliber Beretta handgun. Four shots had been fired from it, and a live cartridge was found on the floor. Denver Hargis recognized and identified the murder weapon. It belonged to him—he had reported it stolen that Friday. Charlene would later admit taking it from the Vienna apartment her husband shared with Betty Crotts.

Mrs. Hargis wasn’t home when the police arrived, and they quickly put out an alert to locate her car. She was soon picked up by Trooper Robert Foxwell, only a mile or so away in downtown Laurel. She told him that she’d planned to drive the car into the Patuxent River and drown herself. “I tried to find the stinking river and couldn’t even do that.”

Questioned by Det. Sgt. Charles Greffen at the Waterloo Barracks, Charlene wasted no time admitting her guilt. He said, “I introduced myself, and before I could say anything, she told me she killed them.”

It was here that Charlene first shed some light on how this unthinkable tragedy was set into motion. According to Greffen, Charlene told him she originally intended to kill herself and leave the children for her husband, but he told her he didn’t want them. “He just laughed,” she said.

She admitted that she’d driven to Vienna the night of the murders to plead with her husband to either return, or to give the family money to move to another city—but he refused to do either. “He said he had another family now—he didn’t want us anymore,” she explained.

Charlene remembered driving back home to Laurel, putting the kids to bed, cleaning the apartment, and putting laundry in the washing machine. The only thing she recalled after that, she said, was when “I called my husband and told him what I’d done. I told him I’d killed the children.”

Laurel News Leader headline, October 28, 1965

Charlene was held in the Prince George’s County Jail and arraigned the next day in Upper Marlboro on charges of first degree murder—four counts. Dressed in black slacks, a yellow blouse, and a charcoal gray cardigan sweater, the thin and frail Mrs. Hargis was asked if she understood the charges against her. “Yes, sir,” she replied, almost inaudibly.

She exhibited more volume when she caught sight of Mr. Hargis and his mistress together. That’s when she became hysterical.

At points during the arraignment, the visibly upset defendant repeatedly cried out, “I’m guilty!”

(Photo ©Associated Press. Collection of Richard Friend)

Circuit Court Judge Ernest A. Loveless, Jr. appointed attorney Edward J. Bagley to represent Mrs. Hargis; and at Mr. Bagley’s request, appointed Howard L. Stern as co-counsel. They filed pleas of not guilty by reason of insanity on all four counts of murder, and the judge ordered Charlene to Spring Grove State Hospital in Catonsville for examination.

She tried to slash her wrists while undergoing that examination. Despite the suicide attempt, psychiatrists ultimately declared her sane and able to stand trial.

Headline from The Salina Journal (Salina, Kansas) Friday, May 6, 1966

Her trial began on May 5, 1966 before a jury of three women and nine men. Shortly after the start of the second day, it was interrupted by an outburst. Charlene Hargis began to scream: “Stop it! I told you I was guilty, didn’t I?!” State’s Attorney Arthur A. Marshall, Jr., who’d been standing directly in front of Mrs. Hargis, literally jumped in shock when the screaming began. He jumped so sharply, he actually pulled a muscle in his side. Asked about the incident later that day, he said, “I felt like somebody stuck a knife in me.”

A recess was called, and Charlene, “trembling and weeping,” was led out of the crowded courtroom by an officer. Seated outside in a nearby corridor were Denver Hargis and Betty Crotts. Mrs. Crotts had been called as a key witness for the prosecution, while Mr. Hargis elected not to testify against his estranged wife.

Betty Crotts testified that she and Denver (by now living together in Arlington, Virginia) had arrived home at her previous apartment in Vienna on the evening of October 17th and found Charlene Hargis and her four children waiting for them outside. She described the confrontation and Charlene’s later phone calls, “threatening to hurt the kids.”

Maryland State Trooper Robert Long was also called to testify, and he relayed the horror he’d discovered that morning in his next door neighbors’ apartment.

And Charlene herself quietly testified. She reiterated the same story to the jurors that she’d told police—never offering excuses or seeking mercy; often looking directly into the jurors’ eyes and adding that she wished she were dead, herself.  

On May 10th, after deliberating for six hours, the jury convicted Charlene on four counts of manslaughter. Reporters noted that several jurors were in tears at various times throughout the closing arguments, and that most in the courtroom sympathized with the defendant in spite of her horrific crime.

In fact, even the prosecutor himself directed more scorn at Denver Hargis and Betty Crotts than he did at Mrs. Hargis. In a remarkable statement to the jury, Marshall said, “She (Charlene Hargis) is a pathetic sight. She stands here before you by herself when there should be two other people with her. Two other people who squeezed the trigger as surely as she did.” He added, “Here we have the story of the eternal triangle—and of an unfaithful husband, who came here and refused to testify, for his own benefit.”

The defense attorney, predictably, was even more blunt. Edward Bagley said, “If she shot her husband that night, I would come in and gladly try this case for her. And I think she would have an excellent chance of being turned loose by a jury.”

The Morning Herald (Hagerstown, MD), May 25, 1966

On May 24th, two weeks after the trial, Charlene returned to the Upper Marlboro courthouse for sentencing. She received 10 years in prison for each death, but with the terms running concurrently.

Circuit Judge William B. Bowie stated that the sentence was “as lenient as possible under the circumstances,” and allowed that Mrs. Hargis would be eligible for parole after 28 months.

Charlene was taken to the Maryland Correctional Institution for Women in Jessup to begin serving her time. By all accounts, she was the proverbial model prisoner—but as the one-year anniversary of the murders approached in September of 1966, so too did her demons. She attempted to overdose with prescription antidepressant and tranquilizer pills she’d been hoarding.

The Washington Post, September 22, 1966

Prison superintendent Alice Blum said that Charlene had confided to fellow inmates several times that “she didn’t know how she could stand it when October came around.”

She fully recovered, but less than a year later, overdosed on pills again. The June 1967 suicide attempt was her third in less than two years, counting the wrist-slashing during her initial psychological evaluation.

Laurel News Leader, June 29, 1967

The third suicide attempt not only resulted in Charlene being transferred to Spring Grove State Hospital, it prompted prison officials to change the method of administering pills to inmates. Warden James Jordan, believing that Mrs. Hargis had received the pills from other inmates who’d also been hoarding them, ordered that all future pills given to inmates “be crushed to make sure they are swallowed.”

Laurel News Leader, May 16, 1968

After serving a total of 31 months in prison and the psychiatric hospital, Charlene Hargis was granted parole by the Maryland Parole and Probation Board. She was released to the custody of her parents, where she was ordered to reside with them at their home in Missouri under close supervision of Missouri parole officials. Her parole also stipulated regular psychiatric care at a nearby mental hospital.

Somewhat ironically, it was a deal that Charlene’s court-appointed defense attorney had requested at her sentencing, only to be denied.

Somehow, life went on for both Denver and Charlene, apparently. After he filed for divorce in January 1969, she reverted to using her maiden name. The divorce report—an inherently cold document to begin with—contains a particularly chilling entry. Line #23 asks for the number of children under 18 affected by the decree. The clerk typed, “NONE.”

(Source: Ancestry.com)

On March 28, 1969, Denver Hargis and Betty Crotts were married.

(Source: Ancestry.com)

Denver and Betty moved to Florida, where he managed a number of title insurance companies before retiring in 1985. He died just four years later, at the age of 67, and is buried at Arlington National Cemetery.

His grave is not far from those of his four children—who’d tragically been there for nearly 24 years by the time he joined them in 1989.

(Source: Arlington National Cemetery)

Nothing seems to have been written about Charlene in the years following her parole. If there were anymore suicide attempts, marriages, or anything else of note, it didn’t make the news, evidently.

In fact, I found only one brief thing—a terse obituary in the March 5, 2015 edition of the Kansas City Star:

Charlene J. Greer, 86, Lee’s Summit, Missouri. Died March 3, 2015.
No service. Cremation.
Langsford Funeral Home.

The tortured woman who couldn’t bear the anniversary of her children’s deaths ended up having to endure nearly 50 more of them.

Sadly, like so many other tragic tales, there isn’t any moral to this story; or any elements of redemption. It was a horrific act that likely could have been prevented, had circumstances been different. We’ll never know what Denver and Charlene Hargis felt, or what series of events prompted them to make the choices they did.

In today’s news cycles, very few things surprise us anymore. But in 1965, in our small hometown of Laurel, Maryland, this must have been truly shocking on every level.

Walking through the expansive Fox Rest Woods neighborhood today, which still looks very much as it always has, it’s easy to imagine the Hargis children there that fateful summer… and to wish they’d had the opportunity to really experience growing up in Laurel. Or anywhere else.

An Endorsement from a Diner Expert

By Richard Friend

Throughout the course of this Tastee Diner sale saga, I’ve had the pleasure of talking to a number of folks who know a lot more about classic diners than I do.

One gentleman, you could say, literally wrote the book on the subject—a few books, in fact.

Larry Cultrera has been documenting the American diner since 1980, photographing well over 800 models around the country—many of which, sadly, are now long gone.

Knowing that he’s familiar with Laurel’s Tastee Diner, (and the current situation with a potential sale putting it at great risk) I asked Mr. Cultrera if he’d consider writing a letter to Mayor Craig Moe, further encouraging the City of Laurel to purchase this historic building before it’s too late.

Larry Cultrera in 1990, sporting a Tastee Diner sweater.

Not only did Larry write a letter, he put together an extensive presentation that illustrates just how rare Laurel’s 1951 Comac-built diner actually is:

Think about that for a moment. Of the approximately 860 diners that Larry has personally photographed in the past 38 years, only two Comac models remain intact: Jack’s Diner of Albany, NY, and Laurel’s Tastee Diner.

The only other known examples, including Daphne’s Diner in Robbinsville, NJ, have been modified so extensively, they’re barely recognizable as the archetypal stainless steel diners they were designed to be.

“It is my belief that the Tastee Diner of Laurel is the most intact and original Comac Diner still in existence and is worthy of preserving for future generations to hopefully enjoy for years to come.”

Larry Cultrera

My immense thanks to Mr. Cultrera for lending his expert voice to this worthy cause. It is clearly the desire of many to see the Diner be purchased by the City of Laurel, where it can rightly become an authentic part of the Historic District.

Recap: Tastee Diner Appreciation Day

By Richard Friend

Richard Friend, Pete Lewnes, and Kevin Leonard. (Photo: Michael G. Stewart)

Saturday morning, January 19th was an extra-special day at the Tastee Diner. The Laurel History Boys’ “Diner Appreciation Day” saw an outpouring of residents and diner fans from all over the region. Between trying to eat breakfast and chatting with as many folks as possible, it was hard to get an accurate headcount—but the parking lot remained full from before the event began at 9AM until well after noon. And Sunday was a near-repeat, as the diner was packed once more.

Photos © Karen Jackson / For Baltimore Sun Media Group

The purpose of this event was twofold: we wanted to thank diner owner Gene Wilkes and his hardworking staff for the nearly 43 years they’ve maintained the Laurel location. We also wanted to remind Mayor Craig Moe and the City of Laurel that the diner remains important to this community, and that the City’s Community Redevelopment Authority should explore every available opportunity to purchase the endangered building (if not the full property itself) if and when the Pure Hana Synergy application is officially denied. The Board of Appeals hearing is scheduled for this Thursday night, January 24th at 7PM at the Laurel Municipal Center.

Richard Friend with Laurel Historical Society president Jhanna Levin and Prince George’s County Council Member Tom Dernoga. (Photo: Karen Lubieniecki)

Diner staff went the extra mile, decorating the car with balloons and ensuring that customers were seated and served promptly. Karen Lubieniecki of the Laurel Historical Society shared the following photo gallery:

And City Councilmember Carl DeWalt posted on Facebook after the event:

Saturday morning attended “The Diner Appreciation Day.” The parking lot was completely full and the Diner was packed with our hometown residents. The honorable Prince George’s Co Councilmember Tom Dernoga and members of his staff attended and enjoyed a delicious Diner breakfast. Edith, my new friend, told us she has been coming to the Diner for the past 40 years and considers the Diner “Home” and the Diner staff and patrons family! Since 1985 when I became a resident and employee of the City of Laurel the theme surrounding Laurel was the revitalization of Main St. History indicates this has been a very very slow process. The outpouring of support I witnessed yesterday for the Diner by our citizens is a golden opportunity to help preserve that structure, move it to Main St. and finally achieve a huge step forward in this revitalization process!

Carl DeWalt, Councilmember, Ward 1

The pending sale to Pure Hana Synergy was unanimously denied on December 11th, and while the medical marijuana dispensary firm has been planning its appeal, I believe that we’ll ultimately learn that their application never should have received the City’s initial endorsement. A town’s Municipal Code can only be bent so far, and Thursday night’s hearing should remove all doubt.

While most are optimistic that the Board of Appeals will uphold the Planning Commission’s recommendation, the diner’s future is far from safe. Owner Gene Wilkes has made it abundantly clear that he still wants to sell. He mentioned having at least two additional offers on his property–both of which would result in the loss of the diner. This is why it’s imperative that the City of Laurel work with him (or his prospective buyers) on a solution that would allow the diner car to be preserved and relocated.

Mr. Wilkes spoke at length about the challenges he’s faced for years while running the Laurel diner, particularly with keeping it open 24 hours a day in a location that has been prone to crime. He also spoke about his refusal to ever allow it to be designated as a historic property, citing regulations that the City imposes on such properties, and how he believes it would only further hinder his ability to sell.

Despite his pleasant and courteous demeanor, I think Mr. Wilkes still views anyone interested in saving the diner as somehow impeding his right to sell it. I’ve tried to explain that this isn’t the case at all. He has more than earned the right to sell and retire. Pure Hana Synergy’s application to purchase it simply should’ve been negated long before it reached this point—and that has nothing to do with diner preservationists, but everything to do with the City’s own Municipal Code. We’re only interested in seeing the building relocated to Main Street, where a new owner can be incentivized to breathe new life into it.

As Saturday’s event showed beyond a doubt, there is an abundance of love for this diner; and with proper advertising and sustained community engagement, it clearly has tremendous potential for the Historic District. The City of Laurel should be exploring ways to purchase it, protect it, and give it the historic designation it deserves.

Based on his extensive experience in Laurel, Mr. Wilkes is correct on many points which reinforce his desire to sell the Laurel location. But by the same token, it’s unfair to measure the Laurel diner’s performance against that of his other locations in Bethesda and Silver Spring—areas that have nearly triple the population and more robust economies.

In the hands of a motivated new owner—an owner who will perhaps decide to limit the business to regular operating hours, consistently engage in public outreach efforts, (much like the highly-successful 29 Diner in Fairfax does) and take full advantage of the many preservation grants and incentives available to a historic location—this diner can positively thrive.

Please plan on attending the Board of Appeals hearing this Thursday night at the Laurel Municipal Center, and let City officials know that you expect them to do right by this historic diner. There are numerous resources to explore, including crowdfunding, angel investors, and others who could contribute to a hugely successful relocation and reopening on Main Street.

Thursday, January 24, 2019
Laurel Municipal Center
8103 Sandy Spring Road
Laurel, MD 20707

The Empty Lot on Cokeland South

February 19, 2017

Rich has written about a fascinating, tragic story from 1978, when Maryland City was literally rocked by an explosion in the wee hours of February 1st. The mystery deepened when firefighters discovered the home’s occupant dead in the front yard—of a self-inflicted gunshot wound. What happened at 355 Cokeland South that morning, that led to it being an empty lot for more than half a decade?


Laurel real estate agents may periodically stumble across what appears to be a typo on the books in the sprawling neighborhood of Maryland City, just off Route 198. In the sea of single family houses built in the early 1960s, there’s one on Cokeland South that stands out on paper, if not in person. As the home’s Zillow.com profile indicates, “355 Cokeland S, Laurel, MD is a single family home that contains 1,120 sq ft and was built in 1984.”

Wait. 1984?


The houses directly beside it were built in 1963. In fact, all of the other houses on Cokeland South and the surrounding streets were built in 1963. So that has to be a mistake, right?

Not according to those who lived in the neighborhood in the late 1970s and early 80s—particularly the kids who enjoyed playing on what they called, simply, “The Empty Lot”. And aerial photos from 1980 do indeed show an empty lot on the site:


However, aerial photos from 1964 clearly reveal a house there at that time:


So what happened here? It’s certainly not unusual for homeowners to completely rebuild—whether it’s the result of a devastating fire, flood, or other natural disaster. Or, simply by aesthetic choice—sometimes, people decide to make significant changes to their property that requires tearing it down and rebuilding something new.

But why would the house at 355 Cokeland South disappear, and its lot sit completely vacant for several years?


This past December, I received an email from Lost Laurel follower Werter Arrington. He knew the basic answer to this question; because as a child, his family lived directly across the street at 350 Cokeland South. And in the early morning hours of February 1, 1978, he witnessed the aftermath of a violent explosion that destroyed his neighbors’ home.

But this wasn’t a horrific accident or freak occurrence, as Maryland City firefighters and Anne Arundel County Police first responders soon determined. The occupant of the house, Frank Stanley Kotra, was found dead in the front yard—of a self-inflicted gunshot wound.


Front page of the Laurel News Leader, February 9, 1978 edition

Werter remembered his parents trying to lend aid—covering the man in a blanket and talking to him until help arrived, knowing that it was likely far too late. It was. Firefighters converging on the blaze had quite a task on their hands that morning: multiple 55-gallon drums of cleaning supplies had become involved in the fire that originated in the basement, prohibiting them from making any attempt to attack the fire from inside—or what was left of the inside.

And in what must have been a particularly macabre scene, firefighters realized they had inadvertently been kneeling on the victim’s body while operating a hose line at the front of the house. By that point, Kotra’s body had become partially covered by debris; and worse, his face and head had become frozen to the ground.

“He was frozen to the sidewalk and had to be chipped from the ice before they could remove his body.” —Maryland City Fireman Dave Smallwood

Maryland State Police reported that the cause of the fire was “ignition of a flammable liquid, possibly gasoline,” and the State Medical Examiner officially ruled the death of the 48-year-old retired military man a suicide.

There’s no way of knowing exactly what transpired at 355 Cokeland South that morning, but it stemmed from a domestic incident. Most theories have Kotra’s wife, Hannelore, planning to leave the marriage and take their children—leaving Frank despondent. Some suggest that he intended to kill everyone in the home. (Firefighters reported that he had blocked egress with furniture). But others claim that the family was safely away with relatives, and that Kotra himself had even made arrangements for his children to spend the night with a neighbor. At any rate, a distraught Frank Kotra was fortunately home alone at 4:45 AM on February 1, 1978, when he decided to set a fire in his basement—likely knowing that it would trigger a massive explosion—and then walk to the front yard, put a gun to his head, and pull the trigger.


Frank Stanley Kotra was born on February 14, 1929 in Tarnow, Poland to Karol Kotra and Stefania Siedlik.

In 1955, he became an American citizen residing in Chicago; and the following year, he married Hannelore in Manheim, Germany. The U.S. Army Staff Sergeant and his wife spent time in Fort Smith, Arkansas before moving to Maryland City.

Screen Shot 2017-02-19 at 1.46.27 PM.png
Norther District, Illinois Naturalization Index for Frank Kotra, 1955

Screen Shot 2017-02-19 at 1.53.44 PM.png
Fort Smith, Arkansas City Directory, 1959.

After retiring from the Army, Kotra sold Amway products—which might explain the unusually large volume of cleaning products in his basement, further fueling the fire.

Kotra was just two weeks shy of his 49th birthday when he took his life, and was buried at Arlington National Cemetery on February 3rd. His headstone revealed another intriguing fact about his short, troubled life—he’d served in both the Korean and Vietnam wars.

Kotra’s grave at Arlington National Cemetery: Section 67, Site 871.

Little was known about post-traumatic stress disorder during Frank Kotra’s lifetime. In fact, the term “PTSD” didn’t first appear in the psychiatric lexicon until 1980. Could that have potentially played some role in this tragedy?

The house sitting at 355 Cokeland South today was indeed newly built in 1984, and bears no scars from February 1, 1978. Nor would you guess that the site had been an empty lot for more than half a decade after an explosion rocked the community. It looks very much like the other houses on the street and surrounding blocks throughout Maryland City—peaceful. Let’s hope that Frank Kotra found peace, and that his family, friends, and neighbors who lived through this event nearly 40 years ago have found peace, as well.


My thanks to Werter Arrington, John Floyd, Maryland City firefighter Dave Smallwood, MCVFD Chief Rayburn Smallwood, and retired AAFD Battalion Chief Joe Ross for their recollections.


A typical Saturday scene: Kevin, Windy, Pete, and Rich at Laurel’s Tastee Diner. (Photos: John Floyd II)

There are a number of good people both working at and frequenting the Tastee Diner who make it the special place that it is. But for us, the first was a waitress named Windy Floyd.

Over the past 3 years or so, Kevin, Pete, and I have had the pleasure of becoming “regulars” at Laurel’s legendary Tastee Diner. To say that there’s no other place quite like the Diner would be a tremendous understatement; its historic ambiance alone just genuinely inspires us as we compare notes and go about uncovering new stories from Laurel’s past. I could sit for hours at Starbucks and not come up with a single idea; but give me ten minutes with a cup of coffee at the Diner and the wheels already start to turn. And it all began by sitting at a table in Windy’s section.

This being its 40th anniversary under the Tastee Diner banner, we’re in the process of putting together a very interesting history of the three diner cars that have occupied the site at 118 Washington Boulevard since the early 1930s, originally started by Walter Susini.

But sometimes real life has a way of interfering with things. This past Saturday—at the Diner, of course—reminded us of that.

Windy didn’t seem to be working her regular shift. Another long-time waitress, Melissa, came over to help us instead. But rather than take our order, Melissa began with an unusual question:

“Have you all heard from Windy?”

She went on to reveal that the Diner hadn’t heard from her since Tuesday—that she’d missed her Friday shift without calling in, and was scheduled to work that day (Saturday) as well… but still hadn’t called in.

Calls to Windy’s cellphone went straight to voicemail, she said. Even more worrisome, a visit to her house in Jessup yielded no response, although “all the cars are there,” according to Melissa. “The dog isn’t even barking.” that didn’t sound good at all. We lost our appetites.

We left the Diner that afternoon while Anne Arundel County Police were doing a welfare check at Windy’s house, prompted by a call from Diner staff. There was a brief bit of hope that she may have traveled to visit her family in Tennessee—that, perhaps, something had happened that caused her to leave unexpectedly. But even still, by all accounts, Windy would’ve made time to call the Diner to let them know.

A few hours later, we learned the devastating news. Windy was dead. She’d been shot—apparently while she slept—by the man with whom she lived. He’d then turned the gun on himself, taking his own life.

Apparently, there was a history of domestic strife that wasn’t reported to police—problems that had increased in severity in recent weeks, according to investigators. Windy, unfortunately, never let on that anything was wrong. She was only 49 years old.

* * *

The Diner was literally a brighter place with Windy working there. Her smile and laughter were immediately welcoming, whether you were a regular or not. Getting to know her over these past few years has been a pleasure—sitting in Windy’s section was truly part of our routine. We looked forward to seeing her. She’d actually save “our table” if she knew we were coming in when there was a crowd. And she genuinely took an interest in the research we do, often stopping to sit with us for a few moments to get a look at some vintage photos Pete had found, or at Kevin’s most recent Laurel Leader article.


She was one of the first people to receive a Lost Laurel book from me, and could always count on Pete to bring her back a t-shirt from a concert at Atlantic City. She was proud of her Laurel History Boys swag, too: t-shirts and stickers courtesy of Kevin—who enjoyed asking her for a menu every single week, despite ordering the same thing time and again. “I already know what you’re gonna get, so don’t even ask for that menu,” she’d playfully chide.

Kevin, Pete, and I always took turns paying the tab, and even though we’d often forget who got the last one, Windy never did. If I reached for the check, she’d put it in front of Pete instead. “No, Rich, you got it last time. Let him pay!”


This has been a sad, surreal week. And it will undoubtedly be sad and surreal at the Diner for quite some time. But Windy wouldn’t want that, I’m sure. She was excited about the prospect of this 40th Anniversary of the Tastee Diner that we were just discussing last weekend, and would’ve loved to see how it shapes up. Whether you’re a Diner regular, or even if you haven’t been in years, stop by one day soon and let the staff know that you’re thinking of them. If it feels like we’ve lost a family member, we can only imagine how tough this must be for Windy’s co-workers. Jeff, Joy, Melissa, Patty, Emily, Kevin, Gene, and everyone in the Tastee Diner family—you’re in our thoughts and have our sincerest condolences.

We’ve established a GoFundMe page to benefit Windy’s children and grandchildren. All proceeds raised will go directly to her oldest daughter, Lacey. Please visit https://www.gofundme.com/windyfloydmemorial and contribute what you can—no amount is too small, and you can donate anonymously. Also, kindly share this link to spread the word.

A Grand Day, Indeed!

July 2, 2016 will go down as a day the Laurel History Boys won’t forget. As reported earlier this week, we had the honor of being named Grand Marshals of the city’s Fourth of July Parade.

With this year’s theme focusing on Laurel’s history, it was a quite a thrill to see a record turnout of over 90 antique and classic cars participating in the parade and car show. Kevin, Pete and I had the pleasure of riding in Jerry Seitz’ ultra-rare 1940 Plymouth pickup, which still has its original paint and cargo bed!

Photo: John Mewshaw

Jerry shared an interesting historical note about the truck, which he acquired just a few years ago. He’d first seen it—and tried to purchase it—from a gentleman 40 years earlier. When he finally got it, the original owner’s son also gave him an old address book that had belonged to his father—which included countless names and numbers of Plymouth collectors and enthusiasts. Among the references was Jerry’s name and number… from 40 years ago. Clearly, this beautiful truck has finally made it to its rightful home, and what a pleasure it was to ride with Jerry this morning!

I thought I’d share a quick recap of the sights and sounds of this unique experience, coming from one who’d never been a Grand Marshal of anything before. I’ll also include a few pointers, if you will, should you ever find yourself riding in this grand Laurel tradition.

One of the things you have to take into consideration when riding in any parade is transportation to said parade. It’s not simply a matter of just showing up to the starting point… because unless you plan to walk (or catch a ride) all the way back to where you originally parked your car, you’ll need to give that some thought.

The three of us parked near the end of the parade route at Laurel Lakes, where we’d be able to enjoy the car show afterwards and then have easy access to our own vehicles. And we had the benefit of catching a ride over to the starting point at Sixth and Montgomery Streets in true historic style, thanks to 4th of July Committee Member Mike Templeton. He picked us up in his 1956 Chevy Bel Air, and we enjoyed a quick cruise through the heart of the Historic District en route to the staging area.



Once there, we got to meet Jerry and get our first look at the Grand Marshals’ vehicle itself.IMG_5735




Waiting for the parade to start at 11:00, we had the chance to visit with Mayor Craig Moe, and City Council members—all of whom admirably walk the full distance of the parade, happily greeting folks and putting those of us who comfortably ride in vehicles to shame. 🙂



Upon starting, Kevin and I hopped into the back of the truck while Pete rode shotgun.

Photo: John Mewshaw

Photo: John Mewshaw


This was something else that was new to me—riding “backwards” through Laurel. It’s a bit more disorienting than you’d imagine. This was the view we had looking back along Montgomery Street:


Photo: Alexander Butler

Photo: Alexander Butler

Another unique sight was riding past the legendary West Laurel Rag Tag Band, which traditionally brings up the rear of every parade. I managed to snag a photo of them getting ready to fall in line near Laurel Elementary School.


Photo: Brian Krista, Baltimore Sun Media Group

Photo: Linda Ekiss Lemar

Just before turning onto Fourth Street, I caught sight of one of my favorite former co-workers from the Laurel Library, whom I hadn’t seen since I left that job (my very first!) way back in 1997. Maria Raynes was my supervisor as a clerical aide, and coincidentally, she just retired from the job this week—there was a wonderful story about her in the Laurel Leader!

She took a photo of us, and after quickly dispersing candy to the nearby youngsters, I had to snap a photo of her as well.

IMG_5770 - Version 2

Photo: Maria Raynes

Heading onto Fourth Street, I snuck a couple of shots over the top of the truck’s cab to see what the route ahead looked like. Here, we’re approaching the intersection of Talbott Avenue, (Route 198 West) which Laurel’s Finest was just about to block off.


We offered them some candy, too, but they declined. But I’m guessing the folks who really could’ve used some refreshment were the drivers stuck on Route 198 west-and eastbound to let the parade pass through.

Heading further south along Fourth Street, we were approaching Marshall Avenue at this point… and there’s a lot of eager kids with candy bags along this stretch. One can never have too much candy—that goes for both parade participants and spectators. (Kevin and I ran out just before Ashford Boulevard, so that’s a lesson learned.)



Just past Crow Branch, I saw another familiar face—one of my best friends since the first grade. Rodney Pressley captured a quick video, in spite of being pelted with candy. (If you listen closely to the video, you’ll also hear his nephew, Kevin, hilariously remind me that I owe him candy.)


Standing at the corner of of Montrose Avenue, where he’s photographed countless parade moments over the decades, John Floyd captured this shot—proving that trying to throw candy across Fourth Street from the back of a small truck is more awkward than you’d think!

Photo: John Floyd II

Nearing the judges stand at the end of the route, I noticed this very patriotic lady enjoying the parade.


At the judges stand, Committee Member Carreen Koubek briefly stopped Jerry’s truck and surprised each of us with a commemorative plaque!


From there, it was off to Mulberry Street for the classic car show.


I’m a sucker for the details at these shows, and there were plenty. One of my favorites was the Ford Falcon with vintage Food Town grocery bags in the back seat.

I think our only regret on this day was that we couldn’t drive home in one of those vehicles. Although if Pete has his way, that will soon change… He’s trying to find a ’67 Chevy Biscayne, a ’72 Plymouth Fury, or even a 1980s Impala—which he can modify into a historic Laurel Police car. If you have any leads on such a ride, please contact us!

The weather was perfect, the crowd was great, and Laurel’s 38th Annual Fourth of July Parade was an absolute blast. I know I speak for Kevin and Pete when I say this was a truly enjoyable experience, and one we won’t forget. Our profound thanks to the City of Laurel, and especially those hardworking members of the Fourth of July Committee, who tirelessly seek to raise funds for this special event all year round.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t also mention just how important it is to support this great tradition in the years to come, especially as we near the 40th anniversary. The fireworks display that so many of us enjoy each July costs far more to produce than you’d probably ever suspect—we’re talking $35,000 or more—and it relies on sponsors and donations. Please be sure to visit https://laurel4th.org/ and pitch in what you can—every dollar helps. Laurel’s celebration routinely draws crowds of 50,000 spectators; if each one of us gave just $1.00, next year’s event would be truly epic. If there’s one duty as 2016 Grand Marshals that we’d like to stress, it’s that it’s crucial that we all help Laurel’s Fourth of July Committee continue to carry on this historic tradition.

Photo: Nate Pesce, Baltimore Sun Media Group

Again, our heartfelt thanks to all who worked to make this year’s celebration a success, as well as everyone who came out to enjoy the festivities. Have a safe and wonderful Fourth of July weekend!



 Unless otherwise credited, all photos ©Richard Friend.



History on Parade!

Ordinarily, just being mentioned in the Laurel Leader is both an honor and a treat. Being featured on the cover this week is a whole other ballgame! Our profound thanks to Andrew Michaels for a wonderful write-up!

So, why are we in the news, anyway? Well, that’s the even bigger honor—we’ve been named Grand Marshals for this year’s 4th of July parade!

With the theme focusing on Laurel’s history, we’re grateful that the Laurel 4th of July Committee thought enough of our work to put us front and center. For three guys who eat, sleep and breathe Laurel history, it really is an honor to take part in this tradition.

The weather promises to be great, so we hope you’ll come out to watch the parade! It’s this Saturday, July 2. The parade begins on Montgomery Street at 11AM, turning onto Fourth Street and ending at Cherry Lane. There will be a judges stand at Domer Court, just behind Laurel Shopping Center.

We’ll have the privilege of riding in one of the rarest vehicles around—this gorgeous 1940 Plymouth pickup owned by Jerry Seitz.

Jerry’s truck will also be at the car show on Mulberry Street following the parade, as will Mike Templeton‘s beautiful 1956 Chevy Bel Air convertible, (our Main Street Festival Parade ride!) and many others.

A complete rundown of events is posted below, per the Laurel Leader. We hope to see all of you out there enjoying the festivities!

* * *

Independence Day Celebration

Saturday, July 2, 2016

9AM Parade lineup at Sixth and Montgomery Streets. Antique and classic cars line up in parking lot behind McCullough Field.

11AM  Parade begins; judges stand at Domer Court. Parade route is Montgomery Street to Fourth Street, ending at Cherry Lane. Horseshoe contest begins at Granville Gude Park. Food and craft vendors open through conclusion of fireworks. Car show registration begins at Mulberry Street, between Lowe’s and Holiday Inn Express.

Noon  Car show begins.

2 PM  Reading of parade awards and acknowledgments.

3 PM  Field events begin, hosted by Laurel Department of Parks and Recreation.

3:15 PM  Grand opening, flag raising, pledge and national anthem. Invocation by the Rev. Warren Litchfield.

3:30 PM  Hot dog eating contest registration begins; car show ends.

4 PM  Hot dog eating contest begins.

5:15 PM  Music by Oracle.

7 PM  Welcome and introduction by Mayor Craig Moe and city council.

7:15 PM  Acknowledgments and committee awards.

7:30 PM  Music by Oracle.

9:15 PM  Fireworks from the lake.

All times are approximate.
No alcohol, sparklers, fireworks, or pets are permitted at the celebration. Service animals are allowed.