If you’ve spent any time in northeast Wisconsin’s Native communities, then you’ve likely met Larry Patrick Madden. Known to many by the English translation of his Mohican name Maxkweeno, Madden’s presence induced smiles and proclamations of, “The Bear Man!”
Whether dancing in his homemade bear regalia at a powwow, chatting with the host of PBS’s “Wisconsin Foodie” at the Indian Summer Festival in Milwaukee or leading conversations about language and culture reclamation across the Badger State, Madden practiced what he referred to as the “lost art of visiting” with those he met. Often, his visits were a mix of quick witticisms, uplifting conversation and contagious, uproarious laughter.
On Nov. 19, Madden unexpectedly walked on to the spirit world, creating a bear-man-sized hole in the hearts of many friends like me. I know I’m not the only one who’s missing people who’ve passed on this holiday season, but I’m taking comfort in reflecting on all the things Madden taught me.
Madden was a student of mine at the College of Menominee Nation, but he was the type of adult learner who shared as much knowledge as he acquired. From mentoring his classmates struggling to juggle personal and academic challenges, to offering a rich explication of a 100-year-old poem written by an Indian Boarding School student, Madden’s enrollment in a course made the experience better for everyone.
After he graduated, I worked with Madden on a variety of projects, including traveling theater productions for the Oneida Arts Program, media reviews for “Let Me Be Frank” publications and Menominee pageants for CMN.
Soon thereafter, Madden had my cell number, and we started speaking every few weeks. What I thought were intended to be calls for me to advise him on various projects transformed into ones where we played the role of sounding board for each other’s ideas. Madden’s name on my caller ID was always a day brightener.
In April 2024, I was pacing my house waiting to start a Zoom meeting with UW-Milwaukee. If the call went well and I successfully defended my dissertation, I would earn a Ph.D. After five years of coursework, research and writing, I was worried about the alternative.
Then my phone rang and I picked up to hear Madden say, “I don’t know what’s going on, but something was telling me I needed to call my old pal Winn.”
I remember walking laps around my basement as I told him my fears as well as how I planned to address potential questions that my doctoral committee could throw my way. I also recall that Madden reassured me that I was ready and made me chuckle aloud in spite of myself.
After I successfully defended my work, Madden took to answering my calls with an ode to Robert Palmer’s 1980s pop hit, saying, “Doctor, doctor, give me the news.”
The most amazing thing about Madden was that he could move mountains simply through conversation. In 2006, Madden met with a Canadian linguist named Christopher Harvey at an Indigenous Language Institute workshop in Oneida. Equipped with “a laundry basket sized box” filled with his nation’s written language, Madden convinced Harvey to help lead a Mohican language revitalization.
Along with teachers Brock Schreiber and Kanaysa Heath, Harvey and Madden launched Speak Mahican! as a nonprofit, meant to both share the language and normalize its usage in their community. I had the privilege of both taking a Mohican class from and working with these gentlemen on CMN’s “Let’s All Speak the Language” classroom video series. This invaluable work will be Madden’s legacy.
The last time I spoke to Madden was four days before he passed. I asked how Schreiber was doing, and Madden told me to ask Brock myself. I said I didn’t need anything from Schreiber, so I hadn’t reached out.
Madden said, with his trademark wit, “Dude, that’s the best time to call someone.”
Before long, Madden was telling stories, and I was laughing so hard that my face hurt. My friend ended our last call ever saying, “Well, I just had to hear you laugh and so now I can let you get on with your evening.”
I will miss Maxkweeno for the rest of my life, cherishing all he taught me before he left this earth.
This holiday season, and every season thereafter, we should each take a lesson from the Bear Man. Let’s make an effort to call our friends when we don’t need anything and not hang up until we hear them laugh.
Ryan Winn, Ph.D., teaches communications, English, history and theater at the College of Menominee Nation. Visit www.menominee.edu for more information about the school.
