A life affectionately remembered
At Molly Macauley’s funeral, laughter amid the grieving over her fatal stabbing
Even in high school, Molly K. Macauley stood out.
It was her clever idea to build a giant pig for the Latin club’s homecoming parade float, a former high school classmate recalled during Macauley’s funeral service Saturday morning.
Ed Senn described how Macauley and her other classmates at Falls Church High School yelled phrases in pig Latin as they rode on the giant float, earning them the first-place prize.
“We knew in high school that she would be a leader and touch a great many lives,” Senn said after the service.
He was among the half-dozen mourners who shared memories of Macauley at the Second Presbyterian Church, where most of the pews were filled.
Macauley, 59, died after she was stabbed near her Roland Park home on the night of July 8. She and her companion of 12 years, Lee Lasky, had attended an Orioles game that night. Before bed, Macauley left home to walk the couple’s two dogs, Wilga and Leo. She was fatally stabbed on the walk.
Macauley was found about 11 p.m. in the 600 block of W. University Parkway and taken to the Maryland Shock Trauma Center, where she was pronounced dead.
Police have not made an arrest in the killing, which rocked an otherwise quiet North Baltimore community that had not seen a homicide in nearly two decades.
Many of the attendees Saturday were neighbors, or those had worked with Macauley. They spoke of her kindness, warm smile, industrious work ethic and love of dogs.
Her cousin, Tom Geyer, spoke about Macauley’s “dynamic nature” and how “she really did want to make a difference in this world.”
Macauley was the vice president for research and a senior fellow with Resources for the Future. She advised politicians and others about the economic and environmental implications of space exploration.
Geyer called her “an amazing mother. It just so happened her children had four legs,” he said, causing the room to erupt with laughs.
A former work colleague described her inquisitive nature, how she never stopped asking questions and worked long hours.
Another mourner recalled her “warm and welcoming smile.”
Several people spoke about their struggle to comprehend Macauley’s death.
Lasky, her companion, said he’s “not been able to keep track of the time or day since this happened.”
But he said he won’t ever forget when they first met in 2004 at the old Mount Washington ice rink, or their first date.
“She was so open and honest about what was important to her,” Lasky said. He said he realized quickly how easy Macauley was to talk to and said the couple would discuss any topic.
A neighbor, Marta Hanson, spoke of how she has tried to cope with the tragedy of Macauley’s death.
She said she has found comfort in the memories she had with her — when they made “snow dogs” instead of snowmen in between their homes last winter, and how Macauley insisted on installing a stone path to connect their homes.
Hanson recalled a conversation shortly before Macauley’s death. Hanson was planning to take down a trellis in her yard, but Macauley, an avid gardener, urged her to keep it.
“‘Keep the trellis and put up roses,’” Hanson recalled Macauley telling her. Hanson, wiping away tears, said she planned to keep it. And to plant the roses.