Mary-Kate Shea, 68, Video Editor
Dan Jones, Mary-Kate Shea, and Jeff Cronenberg at the 2018 Reunion. Photo by Margo Garrison.
From Chapman Funerals & Cremations:
Mary-Kate Shea, 68, of Falmouth, Massachusetts, formerly of Walpole, passed away peacefully in her home surrounded by the love of her family.
Born on March 12, 1957, in Norwood, Massachusetts, Mary-Kate lived a life defined by deep devotion to her family, lasting friendships, and a generous spirit that touched many. She was the beloved wife of Michael Crimmins, with whom she shared 42 years of marriage filled with love, partnership, and laughter.
Mary-Kate built a career as a video editor – most notably at WGBH. She found joy in creating videos for her family and friends too; she was the first on her beloved McKinley Ave with a video camera and a computer, and made sure to capture all the big moments.
She loved spending time outdoors – golfing, gardening, hiking, and walking along the ocean. She was a spirited pickleball player with her “Ladies on the Hill,” and she rarely passed up a visit to the french bakery or a good british murder mystery.
More than anything, Mary-Kate cherished her family. She was a devoted mother and a loving grandmother who delighted in playing with her grandchildren and spending time together whenever she could.
Mary-Kate celebrated more than 30 years of sobriety. Her recovery journey became a powerful source of strength and purpose in her life, and she was deeply committed to helping and supporting others on their own paths.
She is survived by her loving husband, Michael Crimmins of Falmouth; her children Conor Crimmins and his wife Alex of Danvers, Massachusetts; Caroline Dow and her husband Kevin of Hull, Massachusetts; and Emma Crimmins of Boston, Massachusetts. She was the proud and loving grandmother of Riley and Cole.
She is also survived by her siblings Veronica Scontras, Lorie Cathcart, Ed Shea, Tim Shea, and Dennis Shea.
Mary-Kate will be remembered for her warmth, her sense of humor, her resilience, and the deep love she had for her family and friends. Her peaceful presence and her laughter will be missed by all who knew her.
Visitation will take place on Friday, March 20th from 4 – 7 p.m. at Chapman Funerals & Cremations, 475 Main Street, Falmouth. A Funeral Mass will be celebrated on Saturday, March 21st at 10 a.m. at St. Anthony’s Church, 167 East Falmouth Highway, East Falmouth.
In lieu of flowers, memorial donations may be made to the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute.
From Chris Lydon:
Have a look at this vintage clip from our TOCN:
My first grand-daughter sent it to me a few weeks ago because she heard my voice on it.
Immediately I knew it was Mary-Kate’s genius at work: the perfect economy of it, the humor and the politics. Johnny Van said; of course!
What a marvelous woman, and friend and colleague.
Thank you, Lord, for Mary-Kate Shea.
From Margo Garrison:
Ann Gaydos, Mary-Kate, Mary Helen Doyle, Margo Garrison in Sag Harbor, 1995
Agreed, that Cindy’s recollection was beautiful — and emotional and evocative. Mary-Kate and I worked together very briefly in the 1980s, or maybe early 90s, and my recollection is of how cheerful and full of energy she was. And friendly, supportive, and communicative. And her passing also reminds me of how we should value those around us, as we won’t be here forever.
I met Mary-Kate over 40 years ago when I was working as an audio engineer at ‘GBH.
She came in on a small wave of women entering the fields of video editing and tape room operations, along with Mary Helen Doyle, Ann Gaydos, Rosanne Scarry, and Debbie Dorsey.
Mary-Kate was hysterically funny, could do uncanny impressions of co-workers (Joe Pugliesi!), and conveyed a sense of mischief that belied the fact that she was seriously good at her job.
Deeply caring and thoughtful, she was the insistent force that sustained and energized a cherished friendship that Ann, Mary Helen, and I have shared through all these years.
We will miss you terribly, dear friend.
I was saddened to learn of Mary Kate Shea’s passing. She was the on line editor for many This Old House and Victory Garden shows. She was so kind, sweet and talented!
When I was first hired as an online editor at WGBH, Mary-Kate was already a veteran, commanding the central chair in the A” suite.
At that time, 1985, most online suites used an edit controller called CMX. But our suite A had a completely different controller, quirky, something I had never heard of much less seen, that worked quite differently from the standard CMXs. It was intimidating.
But Mary-Kate took pity on me, took me under her wing, and showed me the ropes. When I eventually got to sit in the big chair, she would work alongside me, and would discretely whisper “suggestions” to me when I was (frequently) lost in the edit list.
She had my back, for no other reason than she was that kind of person.
For those not on Facebook, you can also see the clip Chris mentioned here: https://youtu.be/ocA1WOgA5sM
Have a look at this vintage clip from our TOCN: https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=1276344580778701
My first grand-daughter sent it to me a few weeks ago because she heard my voice on it.
Immediately I knew it was Mary-Kate’s genius at work: the perfect economy of it, the humor and the politics. Johnny Van said; of course!
What a marvelous woman, and friend and colleague.
Thank you, Lord, for Mary-Kate Shea.
The hardest thing for me about getting older is losing the people I love. Certain people in life carry a lot of importance and meaning. Mary-Kate was one of them.
I met Mary-Kate at WGBH public television in 2000. I was working on my second project as a producer in Educational Productions and she was a long-time editor assigned to work with me on a series about best practices for teaching reading, K-2. In a short period of time, Mary-Kate became much more than a work colleague and creative collaborator. She was a friend. And someone I greatly admired.
When we worked together at GBH, we spent many hours in her edit room pouring over material and looking at cuts, and in the process, I learned a lot about editing and storytelling, and how to see a story emerge from the footage. She would notice things I wouldn’t notice: an expression, a gesture, an exchange of friendship between two students. She taught me how to put a story together with heart. Spending so much time together in the edit room, we also learned a lot about each other, our families, our challenges, and our hopes. We supported each other during hard times and celebrated each other’s successes.
When we both got laid off from GBH between projects, I asked Mary-Kate to be my editor on my first feature documentary that was partially edited but sitting dormant for a few years. I was terrified to take it up again but desperately wanted to finish it. It was a project I had started nearly ten years earlier and the prospect of working on it felt like going into a dark basement full of ghosts and scary clown paintings. So when Mary-Kate said yes, I knew it would be OK.
We built an edit suite in an attic room in my house. Mary-Kate gave me a tiny statue of St. Clare and told me that she was the Patron Saint of Media. (Who knew?) We put the St. Clare statue on top of a tape deck and got to work that summer.
It was one of the greatest joys of my life. The film, “One in Eight: Janice’s Journey,” about a friend of mine diagnosed with breast cancer, was well received, won awards at festivals and was licensed for television broadcast. Eventually, Mary-Kate and I were rehired by GBH for other projects and continued our work together.
Toward the end of 2008, the Great Recession was kicking GBH’s butt. Projects that were in the planning stages disappeared overnight. It didn’t look like things would get better any time soon, and they didn’t. Mary-Kate and I never worked on a project together again, though we both really wanted to. It was the end of an era.
Mary-Kate and I stayed in touch but our context of working together daily and intensively shifted, and naturally, we also drifted. She and her family moved to Falmouth, MA and I think the distance from Boston, along with our busy lives, put another crimp in our staying more connected.
In 2021, Mary-Kate reached out to me, letting me know that she had been diagnosed with lung cancer and was being treated at Dana-Farber Cancer Institute. She was told that her cancer was not curable but was treatable. She was able to go on a targeted therapy that extended her life and enabled her to see two of her kids get married and to welcome two grandchildren into the family.
When I texted in 2022 that I had retired from my job at Dana-Farber she wrote, “Retired! You go girl. It’s a wonderful time. I garden, golf, do house projects, edit (just my own little projects), play pickleball, yoga, and mediate. Retirement gives me time for it all.” Her targeted therapy was still working and she said that she felt blessed.
Mary-Kate and I had made plans to get together several times, but things always seemed to transpire against us and we never saw each other in person again. I regret that. Although we both expressed to each other our fond memories and gratitude for the wonderful work we did together, and for our friendship, I feel pain that I will not be able to see her again.
Though I have a feeling that she will be around, along with St. Clare.
May you rest in peace and much love to you, Mary-Kate.
That was a beautiful recollection, Cynthia. Thanks for sharing. Mary-Kate was a gem. A pearl. One of the sweetest, kindest and most adorable humans to ever walk this earth.