row2k Features
In Memoriam
Mark Schofer, Brown Boatman, Passes
December 21, 2018
Ed Hewitt, row2k.com

Mark Schofer (photo: Jim Hooper)

We are extremely sad to notify the rowing community that Brown boatman Mark Schofer passed away Friday Dec 21 after a six-month illness; Mark was 65. Mark had been the boatman at Brown for more than two decades, and had served prior to that in several capacities including the de facto boatman at Virginia. Mark graduated from the University of Virginia in 1975, got involved in rowing at a learn-to-row in 1989, got deeply involved in the sport including helping Virginia coach Kevin Sauer with so many projects large and small that he became the de facto boatman, and joined Brown as the boatman in 1998.

Although the trademark Hawaiian shirt, his role as the Wakamole commissioner, and his vast knowledge of many arcane subjects were eccentric touches (and it could be argued that he was playing to part a bit as a boatman), the serious truth is that he was always one of the most sane people on pretty much any regatta site, holding things together in a way that kept priorities absolutely on track, and always with a touch of humor and intensity. He was also creative and funny; Mark was the one who created and served as "Commissioner" of the annual NCAA Riggers Croquet Championship (the winner of which earns the Wakamole Trophy, for which Mark also served as official historian), was a guy who named his cat Butter - i.e., Butter the Cat - and was also the guy who said his goal was "to frighten everyone, but make sure that everyone who came through the program knew how to rig a boat when they graduated" - a rare combination of wit and wisdom intertwined. Mark was one of the best and my favorite people in rowing; we will miss him.

Brown coaches Paul Cooke and John Murphy wrote the following remembrance of Mark today.




For Mark Schofer.

For the past 20 years, the entrance to the Marston Boathouse has been guarded by Mark Schofer, the Brown University Boatman. Each day, Mark was there behind his desk with the boat doors open looking out over the Seekonk River, regardless of the weather, and he greeted visitors with a bit of southern hospitality, which he could turn on a little extra when necessary. His breadth of knowledge was quite remarkable and he was conversant on many subjects and especially a fan of history. He liked stories about people who showed grace and courage and character. He also liked people who were just downright tough like Ray Nitschke, the great middle linebacker for the Green Bay Packers, a poster of whom he hung next to his desk.

Bear Pack  (photo: Jim Hooper)
Bear Pack (photo: Jim Hooper)

Mark left an indelible impression on the athletes who went through this program. He could be gruff and unyielding and he was absolutely insistent on people taking care of their own stuff and looking after the equipment. He defended the boathouse and the boats with his honor and when a boat was brought into the shop, it was the coxswain who needed courage to report the need for repair. The effect of Mark's efforts was to make people responsible and to create an uncompromising attitude towards success. Mark was a ferocious competitor and he helped create a mood of self-determination that made a cowardly performance or complaining intolerable.

On the biggest of race days, Mark would be visible near the boats in a bright red and yellow Hawaiian shirt, which he would pull out of the back of the truck. Mark also was known to pull the shirt off when a crew didn't do quite as well as he had hoped. Despite all of the toughness and grit, Mark also knew that the best competitors love the battle and that the race is a celebration of character. He had an incredibly strong fighting spirit.

Mark at work with the team  (photo: Jim Hooper)
Mark at work with the team (photo: Jim Hooper)

Sometime ago Mark galvanized the collegiate boatmen into a very solid unit that has never been shy about expressing their opinions. For a number of years a high point for them has been their annual croquet tournament, organized by Mark, at the NCAA National Championships. How a winner is determined has always been somewhat questionable but as Mark would explain, "there are no rules.". When loading the trailer for the NCAA one could always be certain that Mark's croquet set had been carefully packed and not forgotten. So too, Mark Schofer will not be forgotten by all of us who have known him along the way.

Paul Cooke
Head Coach
Brown University Men's Crew
John Murphy
Head Coach
Brown University Women's Crew


And Finally... We are so grateful to our neighbors in the Narragansett Boat Community who took such good care of Mark during the past several months. There were a bunch of kind folks who shopped and cooked and cleaned for Mark and drove him to appointments and interfaced with VNA, etc., many of whom didn't know him before he got sick.

Mark at work with the team
Mark at work with the team

Butter the Cat
Butter the Cat

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Comments

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courtmac
01/11/2019  4:03:16 PM
1 people like this
This is one of many poems Mark wrote on the yearly occasion of installing the starting line poles on the Seekonk River. Others were MUCH more elaborate such as those based on Shakespeare plays, Poe's Raven, Danny Boy, etc. All were very funny.

There once was a girl from Pawtucket, Who rowed in a beat up old bucket. As she swam to the shore, Clinging on to her oar, She said: "I certainly regret not paying attention to the fact that the Brown crews have installed their start line near Swan Point, where the pipes will remain throughout the home racing season, not to be removed until after the last race, scheduled for Saturday, April 25th, 2009; for, had I paid attention to this important fact, I would not have struck it".

He is sorely missed. Courtney McCracken


kevinsauer
12/22/2018  11:22:09 AM
2 people like this
Mark Schofer was an icon. From our first introduction in the summer of 1989 until his passing, he was a constant friend, mentor, confidant and all-around good guy. His humor was legendary and because he was so smart, sometimes unappreciated or misunderstood; especially by me. In the struggling first few years at UVA, Mark was unwavering in his support, volunteering his time as we built the program, kept the old boathouse functional, rebuilt the dock, built the new boathouse/barn and upgraded the equipment, all on a shoestring. When John Murphy asked me if I knew of anyone who would be a good boatman for Brown (since we did not have a position at the time), I reluctantly told him about Mark. He had a special place in his heart for Barb and asked about her often. My love of BBQ is due to Mark with his favorite being Pierce's, just outside Williamsburg. The Wakamole tournament won't be the same, NCAA's not as fun and the Packers have lost an owner. Rest in Peace my friend. Kevin and Barb Sauer


rigger
12/22/2018  10:40:26 AM
A very sad farewell to a partner in many boatman crimes, large and small. Our retirement plans of running Fish Camps - Minnesota in summer, Florida in winter, won’t be the same.


mongo
12/22/2018  8:58:15 AM
1 people like this
Virtually everything I know about preparing and repairing any kind of rowing equipment came from Mark; starting when I lived in Charlottesville, and later on, when I emailed or called Mark at Brown in a panic about one thing or another, pointers on materials and techniques would swiftly follow, along with impeccable (and hilarious, occasionally unprintable) instructions for doing the work well. But Mark was about more than boats, and if you got him talking about the Brown crews, he wore his affection for the athletes and coaches on his sleeve. Rest in Peace, Mark.


mongo
12/22/2018  9:43:17 AM
Oli Rosenbladt



PaulGeorgiadis
12/22/2018  8:32:51 AM
1 people like this
Thank you for your well-deserved tribute to a giant of our sport. Mark was also a stalwart and generous friend and inspiration to rowing in Central Virginia, to the Virginia Boat Club, VCU Crew, and James River High School. He also was an unparalleled BBQ aficionado, as good with a smoker as he was with rigging tools. Like the Butterball Turkey hotline, he could always be reached in the wee hours of New Year’s day on the beginning of his trailer run down I-95 to winter training in Florida when I would pepper him with questions on the task ahead of the right rub, target temperature, and time for my New Year’s day pork shoulder just starting in my smoker. He always signed off with “Courage my boy, Courage.” RIP, dear friend.



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