A Chat with Frank and Dot Serwon
By Kathleen Downey
Frank and Dot Serwon
Affable with a sly sense of humor, Frank Serwon is the only townie whom I’ve spoken with thus far who has been chased through the streets of Newburyport by a former mayor. I met with Serwon in his North End home on a steamy June morning. His lovely wife Dot sat on a sofa in close proximity, every now and then interrupting her husband to gently admonish him for the outlandish stories he was telling me—some of them true. The couple will celebrate 55 years of marriage this September. Serwon jokes that he has a special evening planned for his bride—dinner at Subway, where Dot can order whatever sandwich she likes off the menu. “Oh, stop!” Dot implores, two words she’ll be forced to repeat several times during this entertaining interview.
A retired Newburyport firefighter, Serwon is modest about his 31 years of service. His dignified example, however, inspired a grandson to follow in his boot-steps. Today, Serwon’s grandson serves on the Newburyport Fire Department, where the senior Serwon served the community with quiet humility.
Frank Serwon
Serwon is equally humble about his local celebrity status. A former high school football star—“Team captain!”—Dot interjects, embarrassing her husband—Serwon has been inducted into the elite Newburyport Wall of Fame. He pokes fun at himself and at pal Mike Doyle, owner of The Park Lunch. “Mike’s yet to hang my photo on his wall of fame,” Serwon jokes, mock offense in his voice, in reference to the crowded “sports wall” in the legendary tavern. Serwon is more serious about his role on the Wall of Fame committee, which continues to honor Newburyport High School’s most outstanding athletes.
But Serwon isn’t the only one in this couple upon whom the sports bug has ever landed. “I played softball while in high school,” Dot tells me. “You did not!” Serwon counters. “I did!” she insists. “No, you didn’t,” Serwon repeats. “I most certainly did—intramural,” Dot adds. “Oh well, intramural . . .” Serwon teases – his eyes rolling in allowance. “Oh, stop,” Dot requests, indignation a pretense in her voice.
They met when he was 18 and she was 19. “I married an older woman,” Serwon laughs. “I’m only five months older!” Dot clarifies. “She was living in God’s country when I met her,” Serwon continues, suggesting that his wife-to-be had been living in the wilds. In fact, Dot grew up on Hanover Street in Newbury, not far from the Upper Green. Her grandfather was Captain Frank Stevens, who had been in charge of the life saving station on Plum Island from the late 1800s to the early 1900s. During his 33-year tenure, he helped to rescue crews from more than 100 ship wrecks. (Now defunct, a fascinating account of the life saving stations can be found in Nancy Weare’s book, Plum Island—the Way it Was.”)
The couple slips into old townie lingo in describing for me the way downtown Newburyport once was, giving me a lesson in townie geography. “Up along was the area from State street west, and down along was the area from State Street to the Newbury line,” Serwon says.
But it was up along High Street that Serwon ran as a young boy, with one of the city’s more colorful mayors in hot pursuit. “One night, my pals and I decided to explore what we called ‘the dungeon’ of the old, abandoned jail on Vernon Street,” Serwon remembers. “But we got caught. Bossy Gillis, who owned the property, came charging after us. The mayor chased us from Vernon Street, along High, and down Summer Street where we leapt over the guardrail to escape.” Serwon pauses. “I can still see Bossy’s face—boy was he was mad!”
In retelling his boyhood escapade, perhaps with more mirth than his wife would have liked (Serwon had ignored her when she implored, “Oh, stop!”), a sparkle lights Serwon’s eyes: townie pride.
