I thought it appropriate to reflect a bit on Norma Cowden’s involvement in the Arcane Auto Society from my own perspective, having been involved with the Club since its early days.  Norma was so much more to many Arcaners than just ‘Paul’s mom’.  I know my memory is not what it once was and that some actual circumstances may differ somewhat from my account, but so it goes…

When Paul and Greg Cowden moved to California from their native Midwest in search of more personal freedom than was available at home in those days, Norma followed.  Together with a car pal, Tom DeJohn, the boys started a San Francisco based car club that embraced the oddball cars they favored and gave it an unforgettable name; The Arcane Auto Society (founded 1982, as we recall) with the motto of “Hey, what kind of car is that?”.  Back in ’82 when it all began, ‘our cars’ were usually the subject of derision and featured in many “Worst Car” books of the day, although they satisfactorily (for the most part) met an urgent need when and where they were built.  These days the cars we have long called “Arcane” are now all the rage.  But in the Eighties they were passe, except for a select few oddball folks who still enjoyed their quirkiness.

Turns out the cars weren’t the only things that were quirky; we’ve had many memorable personalities enliven the Club over the years.  I recall that Mara’s and my first run with the Club in 1983 was to Roaring Camp steam railroad in Felton for a picnic and train ride.  After a half hour or so we looked at each other with the realization that many of the girls were holding hands and many, if not most, of the boys also seemed very close.  ‘Well, this is going to be different!’ we thought.  And so it was.  But it was so because everyone shared the same joy and pride in our weird cars.  We came from all walks of life but had one uniting thing in common; the Arcane cars we cherished and a sense of uninhibited fun.  And Norma was there seemingly from the beginning, if not riding with one her sons, driving her own Citroen.  We had years of fun together.

Perhaps the Club’s most solemn moment came when Greg Cowden succumbed during the AIDS epidemic.  Members embraced Paul and Norma and life went on.  Thereafter Norma was often seen on Club events driving Greg’s green and white Citroen Ami.  After a few years, Paul suffered the inevitable burn out of maintaining membership lists, writing a newsletter and mailing it to the several dozen misfits making up our ranks.  Since ’82, Paul had been hosting the Arcaners’ Annual Business Meeting and Pot Luck Roadkill Brunch in the very early spring at his spacious San Francisco automotive repair garage, Cowden Automotive.  Apart from being able to oogle each others’ cars and eating a warm meal in a large heated garage, the meeting also featured an election of officers, Paul being reelected to all offices by acclimation each year.  One year when Mara and I could not attend, Paul declined the annual ballot stuffing making him Grand Poobah and declared someone else would have to volunteer.  Someone whose identity has been lost to the sands of time (could it have been David Russel?) put my name in the hat and, not being there to defend myself, upon our return I found I had been presented with Arcane Crown and Scepter and was dragooned into an interminable sentence of servitude to the unruly Arcane Masses. 

But there was hope.  The Annual Meets at Paul’s garage were always our best attended events.  We’d try to see how many people we could get to attend and how many little cars we could cram into the ol’ garage.  I think something on the order of sixty was our record, with twice as many people in attendance.  Tables full of food sprawled across the meeting area, with several dozen chairs set up for those who wanted to participate in the Business Meeting, a post mortem on the previous year’s outings and discussion of forthcoming events.  Norma was always there, greeting folks and sharing stories, petting the usual assortment of pooches or young children that had been brought along.  With her raised eyebrows highlighting her pretty blue eyes, she always seemed excited to hear the latest.  She shared our comradery was always interested in what folks were up to, learning about new cars or kids or dogs and sharing her warm smile with all who came near.  And keeping a watchful eye on things.  She’d probably laugh at that last remark, but as I told Paul, I kinda pictured Norma as the bemused den mother overseeing a raucous gang of Arcane Cub Scouts.

We moved south about ten years ago to be closer to our grandkids, so our Arcane attendance is limited to the occasional get together.  It had probably been that long since we’d last seen Norma.  But I’ll never forget her warm smile and kind words.  What a lovely lady.

Byron Brill

Past Prez and Supreme Ruler