Celebrating A Gypsy’s Life Romani Hold Traditional Wake To Mark The Death Of Grover Marks

Grover Marks finally is smiling.

The body of the 71-year-old Gypsy leader lies in peaceful repose in the Spokane Valley funeral home chapel.

He clutches a handful of cash and wears the Rolex watch police seized from him 11 years ago. A white Stetson, a crucifix and two U.S. flags rest on his casket.

Outside, friends and family gather at a cultural encampment at Hazen & Jaeger Funeral Home on South Pines.

The wake, which has continued all week at the funeral home, celebrates the life of the Marks family patriarch. He died Saturday night after a series of strokes over the past year.

Viewing of the body began at dusk Monday at the start of “pomana” - the traditional black feast for the Gypsy leader.

He will be entombed today at Holy Cross Cemetery after a funeral procession through Spokane.

The cortege is scheduled to make ceremonial stops at his house in the East Central neighborhood and outside City Hall, family members say.

“Grover would approve of the stop at City Hall,” said his son Jimmy Marks, who joined his father and other family members in a contentious civil rights suit against the city.

Family and friends say the Gypsy leader was consumed by anger and bitterness over the family’s legal fight.

Assuming his father’s duties, Jimmy Marks helped organize the nine-day wake.

The Gypsies, also known as the Romani, followed their tradition of laughing and partying after a death. They cry after a birth.

Gypsies from throughout the country traveled to Spokane for a ceremony that is held only when a prominent leader dies.

“Grover participated in 200 to 300 funerals in his life for the fathers and mothers of many people who are here,” Jimmy Marks explained.

“They are here to honor their own dead relatives as well as Grover.”

They flew in from Kansas, Arizona, California, Nebraska, Oregon, Montana, Texas, New Mexico, Nevada and Utah.

Others arrived in shiny, expensive cars: Cadillacs, a Corvette, a Mercedes, a Rolls-Royce and numerous Suburbans.

On a patch of grass outside the funeral home, Gypsies gathered under a tent, renewed old friendships and ate traditional Romani food.

Beef, pork and lamb have been cooked daily on propane grills by the men, who generally stayed apart from the women. Almost everyone wore black or dark-blue clothing.

They soaked slices of white bread in hot salsa and served lamb stew and okra cooked with spicy pork. They poured beer from kegs, sipped whiskey, smoked cigars and talked in their native Romani language.

Mostly though, they remembered Grover Marks, the man who became one of Spokane’s cultural icons and who once got so angry at a City Council meeting, he spit out his false teeth.

His 23 grandchildren and 29 great-grandchildren appeared to be anything but sad. The youngest drank soda pop, ate candy and played.

Non-Gypsy guests - there were many “gadjo” on hand - were directed to tables where the food was served. To refuse is an insult.

The visitors included several area car dealers and lifelong friends.

A city police officer stopped by. So did two visiting nurses who had made periodic home visits to the Gypsy leader in his final days.

At night, they lighted up the encampment with a rented generator and swapped stories around a roaring bonfire.

For the black feast, a long table draped with a white cloth was decorated down the middle with pineapples, carved watermelons, oranges, apples and grapes.

The hosts added packs of Marlboros and Pall Malls, Snickers and Three Musketeers candy bars and Hershey’s Kisses - all the dead leader’s favorites.

One by one, guests and family members slipped into the chapel to pay their respects.

The scent of incense and fresh flowers hung heavy in the air as widow Lippe Marie Marks sat near the open casket.

Sipping grape juice, she looked dry-eyed but weary. “Grover is at peace now - no more fighting, no more angry times,” she said.

The widow took her front-row seat in the chapel every day this past week, greeting the dozens of visitors as they arrived individually or in small groups.

Her sons placed a full glass of water under the casket. The tradition ensures their father won’t get thirsty during his trip to the next kingdom.

“The boys,” as Grover Marks affectionately called his sons and grandsons, also slipped a Cuban cigar and a red rose into the breast pocket of his suit.

The casket was circled with flowers.

One floral display depicted Grover Marks’ favorite 1959 white Cadillac and a trailer he had pulled with his wife and seven children. Another looked like a giant pack of Marlboros, while another resembled his cigarette lighter.

Below the casket was a 6-foot facsimile of a $40 million check made payable to Grover Marks by the city of Spokane. That’s the amount the Gypsy family is seeking in the civil rights suit.

“He’s going to take it to his grave one way or another,” said his grandson David Marks.

The body was dressed in an expensive gray suit and crisp necktie held in place by an 18-carat gold tie clasp. The clasp included three gold racehorses studded with diamonds.

On his right hand, which clutched the cash, he wore a 2-carat diamond ring commemorating the 1980 explosion of Mount St. Helens.

On his left hand was another 2-carat diamond ring given him by his brother, the late Miller Marks. Grover Marks became the Gypsy king - the “baro” - after Miller’s death in 1982.

“The police took those rings from him in 1986, and now he has them back - forevermore,” said Jimmy Marks.

Grover Marks brought his family to Spokane in 1962 after traveling for years, picking fruit and doing migrant labor. He made his living in Spokane selling used cars.

He was hospitalized on May 8, two days after his family had celebrated a Gypsy religious holiday and the mistrials or acquittals of family members who had faced federal witness intimidation charges.

His first stroke occurred a year ago, about two weeks after he and eight other members of his family had been indicted for witness intimidation. Because of his failing health, charges against him were dropped.

Jimmy Marks said the television set in his father’s hospital room last Saturday night was tuned to live coverage of the Lilac parade.

“I told him, ‘You should leave us tonight because they’re playing drums and horns for you in the Torchlight Parade.”’ Moments later, his father stopped breathing, and Jimmy Marks lighted a candle.

, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: 3 Color Photos