PV1 Mark L. Crowe, Sr., 62, of Woodbury, Tennessee passed away on Sunday, September 29, 2024. He was born in Cheyenne, Wyoming on Saturday, June 23, 1962. Preceding him in death were his parents, Tommy and Sandra Crowe; his wife, Sharon (Rooney) Crowe; and sisters, Jackie Crowe and Lori Crowe
He is survived by his children, Mark L. Crowe, Jr. and Trista Nicole Crowe, both of LaVergne, and Makayla Fay Digiacomo of Woodbury; grandchildren, Dalila Crowe, Raven Yazzie, and Aliza Wilhoite all of LaVergne; sisters, Tracye Carrigan of Jonesboro and Janet Tipton of East Tennessee; and countless friends.
Mark grew up a military brat and traveled wherever his father’s duty called. Moving from place to place, he never truly got to build any roots during his childhood, so he clung to what he had — his family. The only boy among four girls, Mark learned to be the man of the house while their father was away. That changed when their mother grew to be incapable of caring for them, so Mr. Crowe laid down his artillery and took up the household mantle.
He took the children and laid down roots in Tennessee. However, Mark returned to the role of man of the house with a vengeance when their father died with Mark at the delicate age of 16. Yet even at a delicate age, Mark himself was far from delicate. He was stubborn and rugged. So after graduating from McGavock High School, he joined the U.S. Army in March 1981 from Cleveland, Ohio. Following in his father’s footsteps came naturally to Mark, but he did it with his own flare.
Heading down the artillery route, Mark set out to prove he was tougher than nails and had a sense of humor to go along with it. Stationed in Germany, Mark’s unit was tasked with guarding the Berlin Wall. It was a tumultuous time in Germany, but Mark took the edge off by fully enjoying the 80s. From the music to the recreation, Mark couldn’t think of a better time to be alive, except when training rolled back around.
He recalled having to routinely go into a gas chamber, pull off his mask for a short period, stay in for a while longer, and then go out and recite his identification like a prisoner of war. Trying to keep everyone’s spirits up, the unit made it a game and would make bets on who would handle the experience the best this go around. Though Mark took his job seriously, he tried to never take himself so seriously that he couldn’t crack a joke to bring a smile to another soldier’s face.
Coming back to the States was a breath of fresh air, and Mark was discharged from the service in September 1984 from Ft. Knox, Kentucky. He quickly traded in the brotherhood for fatherhood when he laid eyes on Sharon Rooney. She visited a friend’s house, and Mark just so happened to be the neighbor. Her girly personality and playful spirit had him signing papers of matrimony faster than he signed his enlistment.
They made their nest in the hills of Tennessee, and the love birds complimented one another well. Mark worked with his hands fixing vehicles and laying flooring, while Sharon worked with her mind reading and analyzing movies. With the brain and the brawn in tow, Mark and Sharon quickly grew their family. Mark came into the world first, and just 13 months later, Trista was born. Though Mark followed in his father’s footsteps, it flip-flopped for him. Mark turned out to be momma’s boy, while Trista slipped into the role of daddy’s girl.
Mark continued to have that larger-than-life personality and wanted better for his family than he had. Aiming for them to have a different life, he took up doing residential and commercial flooring and floored businesses all across Middle Tennessee. He floored anywhere from the smallest room in a house to the dorms and fraternities at Vanderbilt. He would bring trinkets home for the kids and kept them in awe, so when he put a pause on flooring, he made sure to find something else that allowed him to keep doing that.
Trucking became a second profession, and sometimes he was allowed to bring home small portions of his load. One of the most memorable was a palette of peanut butter, but it wasn’t about the gifts and oddities. It was about the thought and the action. Mark kept his family on his mind and close at heart. He tried to show love in the best ways he knew how. It brought a twinkle to his eye to give gifts of wonder, but what he cherished most was the quality time they spent together.
Going out to the lake was central to their family outings. Mark enjoyed fishing, and he especially enjoyed fishing with his family. Percy Priest Lake was their go-to spot, and they have many memories of camping trips and fishing excursions there. Even though Sharon wouldn’t bait the hook or pull the fish off, that was just another way Mark could do something for her and get in some extra practice for the kids.
When they weren’t out at the lake, motorized anything came into the picture. From riding dirt bikes and four-wheelers to working on cars, Mark wanted the kids to experience it all and be able to do it for themselves. He taught them how to drive, fix their own equipment, and do anything else that he could to get some more time with them. Being present was the difference Mark wanted his kids to have in their lives, and he wanted that to carry on into his grandkids’ lives.
Heavily discouraging Trista’s interest in joining the military, Mark finally found something where he was not going to support his daughter. Though she didn’t have any children yet, he knew all too well what military life meant for Trista and her future family. Luckily, it didn’t hurt their relationship, and Mark would be proud to see the same awe in his daughter’s eyes that she had as a little girl.
Being a father was one of the highlights of Mark’s life, and after losing Sharon, he decided to start over again and became a father once more, over 20 years after Mark Jr. and Trista. Makayla came just barely before his first grandchild, but Mark aimed to have the same love and devotion until his health took a turn for the worse.
A key indicator of Mark’s declining health was actually the lack of interest in his other love and passion — his guitar. He had an Epiphone electric guitar that he’d been known to play all night long, regardless of who was trying to sleep. His eclectic taste in music followed him throughout his life, and he would play anything from Tupac to Kid Rock. It didn’t matter the genre as long as the song was good. He would pop in a CD and play along to the music.
In recent months, Mark’s guitar lay dormant and began collecting dust. The only thing Mark disliked more than missing out on time with his kids was seeing the doctor. At his core, he was still that stubborn and rugged man. There wasn’t a situation that he couldn’t slap a happy face on and joke his way through. He was still a soldier, but the war had changed in his mind.
It was no longer about perseverance. It was about presence. It was no longer about preservation. It was about posterity. In all that he did, he wanted to invest in the people around him. That devotion to others built a family around him larger than he could have ever dreamed. To meet him was to love him, but more importantly to Mark, to meet him was to be loved by him.
Mark’s wishes were to be cremated and to be carried on in the memories of the people he held dearest – his children and friends.
Share memories and condolences at www.gentrysmithfuneralhome.com Gentry-Smith Funeral Home, 303 Murfreesboro Rd. Woodbury, TN 37190, 615-563-5337 Because every life has a story
