Samuel Cronis

Samuel Cronis, a retired physical therapist; an Army veteran; a lifelong athlete; an avid fisherman; an enthusiastic cook (and eater); a devoted birder, birdhouse builder, and lover of nature; the handiest of handymen; a staunch family bulwark; and the all-around life of the party, died on August 1, 2025, less than one week shy of his 94th birthday, after a short illness. A family friend once summed him up appropriately: "He is one exuberant Greek." People gravitated toward Sam, especially young children and dogs of all types. His miniature schnauzer Abby was one of his great loves, and he leaves behind a devoted schnoodle named Kali.

Sam was born in Boston in 1931, the youngest of four kids. His father, Peter, emigrated from Greece in the early 20th century, and the family of his mother, Mary, were of French-Scottish ancestry and came from New Brunswick, Canada, in the mid-19th century. When Sam was a child, the Cronis family moved to Salem, Mass., where Peter was a skilled laborer at a tannery. Speedy and strong, young Sam was a natural athlete who excelled in multiple sports at Salem High, especially ice hockey and football. Local sportswriters took notice, describing Sam as a "high scoring hockeyist" and "the Salem ace" who was "the best running back on the field." He graduated from Salem High in 1949 and was later recruited by Brandeis University to play college football. He lettered at Brandeis in 1952, but his college ball was interrupted by the Korean War; Sam was drafted and served from 1953 to 1955. (He knew how to type and served stateside at an Army office. Later, as a father, he insisted that all his children become proficient at typing.)

After his service, Sam returned to college and, owing to his athletic background, decided to study physical therapy; he received his bachelor's degree from Boston University in 1958. (He worked his way through college doing, among other things, golf caddying and bartending. Both golf and beer drinking became lifelong enthusiasms-he was one of Delaware's best amateur golfers in his prime, and probably among its better beer drinkers.)

His older brother Jimmy had settled in Baltimore, so soon after graduation Sam followed his brother south, taking a job with Delaware's state board of health and living in a boarding home in Dover. When work took Sam to the beach town of Lewes, a young woman named Joan, down from Wilmington for the summer, caught his eye. In June they celebrated their 64th wedding anniversary.

His physical therapy job in those days took him all over the state, and on one trip he passed a for-sale sign in front of an old farmhouse across the street from a pond and surrounded by acres of gently rolling land, fields, and woods. He pondered buying it and sought his new father-in-law's advice. He told him: "That old house isn't much, but the land is priceless."

On that land, Sam and his father-in-law built the home (constructed atop the foundation of an old mill) where Sam and Joan raised their five children and where he died surrounded by them, their spouses, and his grandchildren. Along the way, there were too many memories to count: teaching two generations how to fish from the stream that ran through the property (someone had to stock that small pond Sam had hired guys to dig back in the '70s); long nights playing cards or Trivial Pursuit, which Sam nearly always won (but he was also known to throw a card in the fireplace if he didn't like an answer); marathon crab feasts Sam presided over during which some adult always had a little too much fun; beach trips to Fenwick Island where at the end of the day Sam would ask his kids, "Who wants to come back tomorrow?" No one loved a roasted lamb or a steamed crab or a plate of spaghetti and meatballs or a homemade cherry pie as much as Sam did. No one was better at improvising a home repair or navigating a crisis. No one had a scarier stare, or a more intimidating yell, or had a better time making fun of himself, or was a bigger softie. No one who knew him will ever forget the guy.

He is survived by his wife, Joan; his daughter Cena Cronis and her husband, Glenn DeWitt; his daughter Vicki Cronis-Nohe and her husband, Dean Nohe; his daughter Paula Soghomonian and her husband, Chris Soghomonian; his son Chris Cronis and his fiancée, Abigail Beshkin; his son Greg Cronis; his grandchild Courtney Clewer and her husband, Justin Clewer; his grandchildren Samuel Soghomonian, Alexandra Soghomonian, and Austin Nohe; and his great-grandchild, Parker Clewer.

Services will be private.

In lieu of flowers, the family asks mourners to donate to Habitat for Humanity, for which Sam volunteered following his retirement. Donations may be sent to 2311 S. Dupont Hwy., Dover, Delaware 19901.