Roger and I were founding members of a Mens Discussion Group in YSO in the 70s. It was very meaningful to me, how well I got to know Roger, and the lasting memories it created.

My condolences to the family, Roger will surely be missed and held dear in the hearts of many.

Some memories to share…

My connection to the Cranos family goes back to circa 1952, when I knew the Conway sisters, Pat, Carol, and Mary, we lived in the same neighborhood and attended the same schools in Reading, Pa.

Much later I met Roger’s brother, Dave Cranos, who was a close childhood friend and longtime schoolmate of my friend, Russ Hoffman. 

Now connecting the dots, and sadly on so many levels, my first (and last) meeting with Roger and his family was at Dave’s memorial services in 2007.
At the luncheon held by the Cranos family as a celebration of Dave’s life, I had the opportunity to share some fond memories with Letitia of her Aunt, Pat Conway, which put a much needed smile on both our faces.

Brief but precious moments, will always be remembered.

During high school, I remember Roger as a friendly and engaged person. I would go over to hang out with Tish and end up chatting with Roger in his beautiful kitchen. He was a good listener; I think I often did most of the talking but I remember hearing a bit about his work travels and even chatting a bit about politics.

After I left Yellow Springs, Roger was part of the group of folks I always hoped to run into Down Town - turning a five minute errand to get milk into an hour-long conversation. I would see him at the Emporium or at Current Cuisine. He would catch me up on news about Tish - her marine adventures and life with Morgan. His face would light up and he'd smile as he went into detail. He enjoyed hearing news from my travels as well.

One of my vivid memories of Roger was when I was visiting Town with Célia, my daughter, who was about 4 at the time. I remember Célia hugging Roger almost instantly in front of Pangea and Dark Star- and this was during a time she was still shy with unfamiliar people especially men. Célia seemed so happy and comfortable with him - laughing and tugging at his pant leg and rubbing his beard.

Roger is part of the memories and qualities that make Yellow Springs home - a welcoming, warm, friendly, wise and curious presence who cared, questioned and mentored.

Roger was always kind and patient with me. He always welcomed me in his home. Roger invested his time and care for his family and his community. I remember Roger always being there in high school as a supportive presence whenever Letitia was playing tennis or performing in theater. Though he only knew me through my friendship with his daughter Letitia, I remember Roger taking the time to say kind things to me after performances and events. I am so sorry for your loss Letitia and Hallie and all of Roger's family and friends.

My father David was Roger's younger brother. They were very close growing up (1 1/2 years apart in age), and they shared many of the same friends and some wonderful adventures. There were stories about friends in Reading, science "experiments" gone awry (there were small bombs made), chess matches, and a shared love of SciFi and physics. Evidently my dad crashed his convertible. So many stories! Some very happy moments in my childhood were when Uncle Roger came to visit, because he and my dad would tell the most fantastic stories about their youth and just laugh for hours! My dad was so happy whenever Roger visited, and Roger, as the bachelor uncle (in our youth), doted on my sister and me.

As I grew older Uncle Roger played a huge role in my life because he encouraged me to apply to colleges that I never thought I could attend. He suggested Mount Holyoke and paid for my application. I ended up going there, loved it, and met my husband (so honestly he is responsible for my happiness with my spouse, kids, and career!)

Uncle Roger and my dad remained close until my father's death, and I am so happy he was a part of my dad's life during that time. He brought joy whenever he visited our family or talked with my dad - it's just who he was. I am heartbroken at his passing, and I grieve with my dear cousins and their families, but I still smile when thinking of him. I always will.

From: John Green ceo@gmf.com

It was with great sadness I learned of Roger's passing.

I knew Roger well, growing up also in Reading, my house around the corner on Spring Street from Roger's on 12th Street. My irst acquaintance with the Cranos family was through his brother, David, who was in my same school class. 

Roger, if I say so, was more interesting than David. One of my first impressions of Roger was his demonstration of what he called a "flower pot," an incendiary device. It consisted of a Minute Maid (used) frozen orange juice container, loaded with several different layers of combustible chemicals.  Roger set the thing off on top of a cement wall in his backyard. Initially, the flame was not alarming, but as the layers burned deeper and deeper, the intensity of the flame became quite impressive. Obviously Roger has skills beyond the usual.

For whatever it's worth, the fireworks display kindled not only chemicals but a strong interest in the field. Over time, I too acquired some ability in that field, along with a close friend. Alas, my education was lacking in certain areas, as demonstrated a couple years later in a project for my Latin class at Northeast Junior High School. I built a volcano, supposed to be Vesuvius, out of chicken wire and asbestos, and included a metal can inside the crater. It was filled with mixtures of my own invention, developed by experimentation. The Latin teacher had other students pull down the shades and turned off the lights, by which to better see the volcano. 

By the time about the third layer ignited, people had moved to the rear of the classroom, no assistance needed to view the spectacle. A miscalculation resulted in a roaring brilliant blowtorch of solid flame reaching and spreading out over the ceiling of rhe classroom. The ceiling tiles must have been made of asbestos, the fire not spreading destroying the school and everybody in it.  My friend also made a volcano, but being sane, his display was rational and controlled. My plan was to blame Roger.

One summer day, Roger announced to me that we were going to play tennis. It was a startling announcement, tennis never seeming to have intruded on my or Roger's thoughts. Was able to find a racket my brother had abandoned, and we played tennis, up on the courts adjacent to the reservoir in Hamden Park. The game seemed interesting, and later allowed me to collect varsity letters in High School and college, it the only directly competitive sport not involving personal violence, a nice break from same late in th school year.

Another time, Roger announced we were going up to Reading High School to knock some golf balls around. And up we went, Roger having some of the necessary tools, including the little white round thingies.  I gripped what turned out to be a nine iron, and had at the hapless ball, Was quite surprised to see the ball rise nearly straight up it seemed, and dropped almost straight down a hundred yards away. Crap, must have blown it, but Roger assured me that is what shoud have happened. Altho I played a lot of miniature golf and went to driving ranges with my brother, that was as far as it went for me, but both Roger and my brother were serious about the game. One time when Roger and I were up at the High School punishing clubs and golf balls, Roger casually pitched his cigarette on the grass, prior to doing a putt, ala Arnold Palmer. I decided this was a dangerous affectation sure to lead to no good, so crushed it. Roger rightly protested, but I told him it was too much until he was making $100,000 on the pro tour.

We kept at tennis for quite some time, Roger and I often bringing incendiary devices to set off at the courts.  I don't understand why that isn't part of regular tennis. Needless to say, the authorities had different ideas of what young people should and shouldn't do in those days, such activities these days sure to yield felony records.

Roger went on to attend Albright College in Reading, his interest in physics becoming his major. Physics was also my interest, so we had stuff to talk about over th years. Roger joined the Air Force and went to Wright -Patterson AFB, where he worked on an optical technology known as Canopus Trackers.  Canopus is the second brightest star after Sirius, but it is isolated in the sky, making it a fine target for satellite-borne telescopes. It was used to aid in determining the attitude of satellites, and Wright-Pat made he first successful operational trackers, Roger's area of expertise. Now and hen Roger would visit home and we had a chance to talk about his work.

Then, as my own education took me way from Reading, I lost contact with Roger. Nearly a quarter century later, after getting a Physics PhD under Walter Elsasser (he invented he field of megnetohydrodynamics to explain how and why the Earth has a magentic field) at U of Maryland, I began working in defense. Eventually I became a VP of SCOPE Inc., concerned with realtime battlefield and intelligence signal processing systems. A very serious problem emerged that endangered our ability to identify soviet aircraft in air combat , but the division I ran had the technology to overcome the problem. A program was initiated to demonstrate and solve the pressing threat. Some of the program was very black, but other parts were less compartmented and critical elements of the Air Force needed to be briefed on what had been done and what was going to be done.

Accordingly, a meeting of key Air Force uniformed and civilian leaders of certain program areas was set up for me to provide a briefing and present results of ongoing operations against the soviets. The meeting room was not well lit, so it was not easy to see well. A sign-in sheet was passed around for attendees to ink and indicate their affiliation. When it came to me, I was astonished to see the name, Roger Cranos, on it. I've traveled all over the world, and have never come across any other family in that world having the Cranos name. Indeed, I think Roger's father created the name when he entered the US from Greece. 

It seemed impossible. I looked through the dim light at the assemblage sitting around the conference table, but no Roger. I'd known Roger for probably 20 years, but only one guy could remotely have a possibility of being Roger.  If it were him, he had to have deteriorated horribly, in contrast with my youthful appearance. The Roger who signed in was a civilian head of Air Force IFF, at Wright-Patterson, but nothing clicked.

I gave the presentation, which concerned actual operations against the soviets, no theoretical or lab stuff involved, the program tightly held so very few know of it beforehand. People seemed sort of stunned, no inkling of what had gone on leaking out. I then asked for questions, and the "Roger" asked one, a good one, which I answered.  No other questions emerged. Then I decided, what the hell, and I approached he "Roger" and accused him of growing up on 12th Street in Reading. He recoiled, as do all street kids from Reading, seeking an escape route, and I then knew it had to be the real Roger. He struck back by asking me my brother's name, which fortunately I remembered. 

It became clear to both of us that what were street kids from Reading had ascended to positions of scary real significance without anybody discovering who we were actually. Roger then turned to the others, which included people with too many stars on their uniform, pointed at me, and stated "Everything you've heard is true!" It was the greatest accolade (as I took it) I've ever received, and am eternally indebted to Roger for it. Even to the point of forgiving Roger's otherwise unforgivable fascination with Rachel Maddow.

Roger was a significant person who influenced me for the better. Rest in peace, Roger.

I am very sorry for the loss of Roger on this planet. It will be less funny. He was of the first people I met in Yellow Springs and I really valued the time spent together. He was always so kind. I loved long talks with him and how when telling a story he would get excited and say..and then, and then, AND THEN...
Here is a poem by Rabindranath Tagore. He wrote it when anticipating his own passing over.

My life journey coming to its end is lost, halting before night's impenetrability.
The serene stars with their fingers lifted,
Nodding in silence,
Assure me; "Do not fear".

Gathering the remnants of a blossoming day,
I proceed from this shore to the shore of a new life
to complete my journey.

O my evening, all that I have brought with me
I place now in your tending care.
Comrade of darkness on your compassionate hand
I tie the winding thread of my love.
So many hope, so many dreams of joy and sorrows of affection tion
are yet to be fulfilled as I say my farewell.
Whatever I have received, whatever has been dismissed in futility:
What I have left behind in the pressure of the
   moment;
the ruby that shown, the ache that pierced the heart;
the shadow that faded away on the horizon...
all are life's riches; they are not in vain.
Trampled though they may seem in the dust,

They are blessed by the foot-touch of the Perfect.

He has been missed.

Roger was the best pancake maker there ever was. Never seeming to mind that I would just show up at his house on weekends for his pancakes. He was always generous with his time, inviting me on outings with him and Hallie to the zoo, Tar Hollow, and museums. One of my favorite memories was going to Roush's restraunt in Xenia and everytime trying to convince Roger to let me order french fries and a baked potato for dinner (he never let me- I had to eat something other than potatoes haha). He would let Hallie and I dip crackers in his side of blue cheese dressing (still one of my favorite dressings which i credit to Roger), and ordering Rainbow Sherbert for dessert. He was the best, best friend's dad one could ever hope for. ♡♡♡

Justin’s comment reminds me of when we visited my sister and her (then) small children in France, Roger insisted on bringing them little gifts (which I’m sorry to say had not occurred to me). More critically, somehow in his presence they would shortly be zooming around the house, leaping all over him (and me), laughing hysterically. He could wind them up in an instant, but could he calm them down? Well, sadly, no!  Those were wild evenings. But the kids survived, and so did I.
-Mary

Roger was a wonderful uncle to me. I still remember my interactions with him, including those I had when I was very young. He had a kindness and enthusiasm that resonated with even little kids. He would bring me interesting science toys and projects that captured my imagination. From a young age I always felt he was so kind and talking to him was always easier than talking to other adults. My cousin Tish is just about the nicest most caring person I have ever met and his influence on her wonderful personality is clear.  I miss him and I am better for knowing him.

Roger and I were friends for 50 years. We met while Roger was getting his Masters in Physics at New Mexico State University. He and my ex-husband Wyatt shared office space. Wyatt and I had 3 kids and a crazy dog. Roger was a bachelor and looking for a home cooked meal. To get that home cooked meal, on Saturdays he would take the kids to the local farm on campus and let them play on the tractors and hay stacks. Other times he would add the dog Flash (name appropriate) so Wyatt and I could sleep in. This always got him a meal. However, the rule was that if I cooked, the guys would clean. I had a knack for hiding dirty dishes under the sink so when it was time to do the dishes I would add the secret stash. Roger would complain and I would smile. I was active in the Women's Movement at this time and when Roger would give me a hard time, and I would just add more dishes. During these years the stories grew and our friendship deepened. He moved to Yellow Springs and I moved to Denver, we spoke on the phone and visited each other thru the years. We shared kid stories, happy times, sad times, accomplishments and an endearing love! He became an uncle to the kids and a super friend to me. We went thru break-ups, new loves and of course our wonderful children. Roger was my touchstone, that person everyone needs to set the standard of friendship by, to question, to advise, to listen with pride of each other and to always know a love deeply shared. I will miss him so much and feel honored to have known him and his amazing daughters. Rest in Peace my Friend!

Today was a crystal clear day in Ohio, sparkling and cool, yet my heart and mind were still with Tish and Hallie in Olympia. I finally got on my bike and rode out on some of my favorite back roads, winding up at Stevenson Road cemetery where I sat for a while in the evening light, thinking about Roger. Having seen pictures of his younger days I realize how much of his life I don’t know about - I met him when he was in his upper fifties, with Tish in college and Hallie at the Antioch School. At that time it was immediately clear that his priorities were his children. We went to every event at the Antioch school – soup suppers, plays, the auction, as a result of which I met a generation of Yellow Springs kids and their parents and am still a school supporter. He, Hallie, and I went up to Kalamazoo, twice, to hear Tish sing with the fabulous choir there. He talked about both daughters all the time.

In my experience, Roger was game for anything: classical concerts, theater (ETC in Cincinnati was his favorite); art museums (he loved the Taft - the special exhibits and the food were easily worth the trip); we went birding twice to Magee Marsh during spring migration, Roger perhaps pretending enthusiasm but with better eyes than mine we made a team.  Always, he loved good food, and always, he was particular about the service, thanks to his days at the Crystal restaurant, in Reading, PA. (This was founded by a Greek immigrant family and his father worked there. Roger talked a lot about this a lot over the years – it seemed a big part of his life in Reading.)

Some of my most vivid memories of Roger are on our travels, most notably to Peru, Italy, France, and Turkey. In Peru, from Cuzco, we used public busses to get around. I think we counted 22 people in a minivan once, with chickens, Roger just a little anxious. He loved Machu Picchu and didn’t want to leave; I remember his amusement at the kid racing the bus down the mountain, cutting down the switchbacks, a helpful distraction. In Turkey, the incredible art, sculpture, and architecture of Istanbul suggested centuries of history unknown to us; to say the interiors of the Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque were awe-inspiring is a vast understatement. One evening we heard John Elliot Gardner directing Handel’s Messiah accompanied by a muezzin’s call to prayer. (I loved that.) Down on the “English Coast” we were astonished at the quantity and quality of ruins, some largely undisturbed, some near the ocean, some high in mountains; again, we were blown away by the volume of evidence of Turkey’s millennia of history and culture. In Brittany we explored Mont St. Michel and other towns along the north coast, staying in a castle at one point, exploring islands and old walled cities; in Italy we hiked in the Dolomites and visited Jeanne, Phil, and Karin Lemkau near Orvieto. 

In short, we had some memorable adventures. Here in Yellow Springs, Roger loved the Emporium coffee crowd, great books, training with Melissa Heston, the gang of guys that came over for football games, gatherings to watch debates, elections, PBS, and family holidays. In more recent years he faced the challenges of aging stoically, often seeming content on his own (with Rachel Maddow). Last year he moved willingly to Olympia, where Tish and Hallie filled his days with visits and activities. He loved all this, perhaps especially seeing his grandchildren, Elliott and Melina, for whom he was the world’s best “Papa.” Last summer he was thrilled to participate in Hallie’s wedding, smiling broadly all day, particularly enjoying the presence of favorite nieces and nephews and old friends from Yellow Springs. In short, his last months were a happy and gratifying time, thanks entirely to Hallie and Tish.  He was deeply grateful for all they did for him, to the very end.

It is hard to believe Roger is no longer with us. I miss him. 

What a lovely man in a dozen different ways. I suppose I've known him for over 30 years and my wife has known him for more than twice that. Always smiling, gentle, not rushed, full of humour, interested in whatever I might be doing and unselfishly giving as much time as I wanted, so easy to get on with and devoted to his daughters and families. A treat to have known him and sad, sad that he is no longer with us. I will miss him. 

I was very sorry to hear the news about Roger. Some years ago I had a wonderful cat named Red. He was a stray who had showed up one day and I adored him. I have many cats. Eventually some of the other male cats became resentful of Red and I had to find a new home for him. Roger stepped forward and adopted Red. He had lost a beloved feline companion just before that and when he opened his heart to Red I was so happy. Red is a special creature and they developed quite a bond. I'm sure Red misses Roger tremendously. He was a wonderful companion to me and a boon companion for Roger during his twilight years. Rest in peace, Roger. And thanks, again for welcoming my guy Red into your life.