Actor, Artist, Badass.

This is how Lakewood neighbor Linda Marie Ford England described herself on her website that features her abstract paintings. Scroll down a little further, and you’ll find a paragraph outlining England’s philosophy next to a picture of her wearing a bandana and a bright smile.

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Photography by Corrie Aune

“Life is short, eat the cookie! We get one go around, people, unless you believe in reincarnation, and how cool is that?!”

In photos, England’s most consistent feature is her big smile that lights up her whole face. Whether she’s pictured with her three sons, her husband of 35 years or alone, the smile stays.

The New York native and University of Oklahoma alumna packed a lot into her “one go around” before she passed away suddenly in June at 60 years old when she developed sepsis. After meeting her husband Andy England in Tulsa, she eventually settled in Dallas with him and raised a family. Besides being a mom and wife, she was also co-founder of Echo Theatre in East Dallas, an actor, an artist, a St. Thomas Aquinas Catholic Church parishioner and beloved Whole Foods employee. She was active in politics and served as campaign treasurer for her friend and District 9 City Council member Paula Blackmon.

Another of her titles circulated around the neighborhood after she passed — queen.

This is what she called herself on her blog It’s Good to be The Queen, where she wrote about being a mom to three boys. In these posts, she also described her sons as princes and her home as a castle.

When she died, her neighbors posted supportive messages in their windows, like England famously did herself, and plenty included the image of a crown or read, “Long live the Queen.”

To England’s friends and family, her legacy is kindness, wits and love for the people in her life.

Photography by Corrie Aune

Linda, the friend

Another mom raising sons was Blackmon. Their children grew up together, so England and Blackmon became friends as well. Unrelated to their boys, Blackmon recalled a moment when England opened up to her while grieving a loss.

“She just started talking to me and crying on my shoulder when I first met her, and she just looked at me and she said, ‘You don’t even really know me, but I want to thank you for listening,’” Blackmon says. “It kind of became that when we really each needed each other, we were there.”

While looking after each other’s children and picking them up from school to taking family vacations together, they became close.

“She was a lovely person, and she would do anything for anybody,” Blackmon says.

England’s sons remember their mom as someone who approached others with care and kindness.

“She always tried to love everybody,” her youngest son Christopher England says. “She always believed that love was stronger than any other human emotion. It’s what drives us forward as people. So that’s the main message I try to take from my mom is you got to love others.”

Suzy Blaylock, who was part of the team that founded Echo Theatre, described how Linda England would greet her — calling her “sushi,” a mispronunciation of her name coined by Linda’s children, and arms wide open.

“That wasn’t just me; that’s Linda to everybody, arms wide open,” Blaylock says.

Her oldest son Tim England says she researched what items helped make life easier for people undergoing chemotherapy, and then she, Tim and his brothers would drop off care packages to those in the St. Thomas community who were diagnosed with cancer. These gifts were given anonymously with only a note signed from “the chemo-fairies,” but Tim recalls the time that one of the cancer patients figured it out.

“I remember they ran into each other, and that person just broke down,” Tim says. “And she’s like, ‘You have no idea how much those baskets made a difference for me.’”

At Whole Foods (first on Park Lane and then in Lakewood), she was known as Miss Linda and would attract customers, her “fan club,” who would get in her check-out line just to talk to her. Tim says she asked shoppers how their day was, and some would respond with appreciation that someone cared enough to ask.

“Mom took being Miss Linda very seriously,” Tim says.

It was like Linda England had never met a stranger.

“She had a personality where she knew everybody,” Blackmon says. “Even if she didn’t know you, she knew you.”

Photography by Corrie Aune

Linda, the mother

While his father traveled for work, Christopher remembers his mother running the household, walking him to school and attending his sporting events.

“You could always hear her in the stands,” he says.

Christopher continued to receive that support as an adult. The 24-year-old has been living in Germany since last year. His mother encouraged him to experience the world without being afraid.

“I’m sure she had the normal worries that anybody has about their kids, but she was never protective or like a helicopter parent,” he says. “She wanted us to succeed and fail on our own.”

Christopher admired the union between his parents, calling it one of the most healthy relationships he has seen.

“They’re one of the reasons why I hope to get married in my future,” he says. “It was a blessing to have such an amazing set of parents who loved each other, basically unconditionally.”

One of the most unsettling parts of loss is absence. Tim describes his mother as “the opposite of quiet.” Now that she’s gone, home is muted.

“There are days that we all have that I just want to talk to her,” Tim says. “There’s something that happened at work, or something going on that I just want her perspective on or want to hear her thoughts on, and I just can’t do that right now.”

At her funeral service, Tim remembers seeing St. Thomas completely filled and realizing a truth about his mother: “She was our mom, but man, she was everybody’s at some point.”

Linda, the creative

Earlier this fall, Echo Theatre hosted a celebration in honor of Linda England’s artistry.

“I couldn’t tell you the last time that I had been to the Bath House (Cultural Center) for anything Echo-related,” Tim says. “It’s been a while, but that was what I remember so much about growing up, was being at the Bath House for anything Echo-related, or watching mom do her thing. So it was very odd being there without her.”

Some parents are familiar with the pride of seeing their child perform well in sports or fine arts and thinking, “That’s my kid.” Tim has a similar sentiment about watching his mother naturally perform with ease.

“Whenever I would see mom whether it be on stage or in the booth doing voiceovers, or when she was in the (TV show) Queen of the South, you knew that she was in the right spot,” he says.

Blaylock says acting with Linda was “a blast.”

“She worked so hard to develop her characters and to connect with the other actors on stage,” Blaylock says. “Just like any conversation, you can tell when you’re talking to somebody and they’re just waiting for you to quit talking so they can say something. It’s the same thing on stage. You still have to listen, even though your lines are memorized, their lines are memorized. And Linda was really, really good at listening and responding in the moment and not going on autopilot.”

Linda England, Blaylock and Pam Myers-Morgan created Echo Theatre in the late ’90s as a dedicated space to share the female perspective on stage. Without Linda, Blaylock says Echo would not be what it is today.

“What I will say about Linda is that when Linda makes up her mind that she’s going to do something, she does it,” Blaylock says.

Linda England expressed her creativity in other ways, too. Christopher says he has vivid memories of his mother painting in the garage or outside when the weather was nice. He has two of her paintings with him in Germany — one blue with gold accents and gray with purple on the other.

“I remember every now and again, she would look at one of her paintings and just be like, ‘I don’t like that,’ and then she would just paint over it and start again,” Christopher says.

She became Dallas famous when she started posting messages in her windows around the start of the pandemic (initially to wish her father a happy birthday while also socially distancing, but she continued them throughout the following years). Oftentimes, her messages were political, but she would also share jokes and hopeful words.

“Some people loved them; some people hated them,” Blackmon says. “What I saw was a very inspirational and creative woman that was able to speak her mind through a window.”

Photography by Corrie Aune

Never really gone

England’s death came out of nowhere. On the Monday beforehand, Blackmon and England made plans to have dinner together the following week, but she passed away that Saturday.

“It just shows you how life is precious,” Blackmon says.

Christopher says lots of people came to support his family and that was “a little bit of beauty in that dark, dark time.” Tim points out that the staff at Whole Foods also showed their support in the wake of his mother’s death. 

“It felt like a revolving door. You couldn’t go an hour and a half without someone else popping in,” Christopher says. “I had friends who I haven’t seen in a couple of years come by to check on me. I know that there are people I haven’t seen that talk to my dad and my brothers. It seemed like anyone who could come came to us, and it was incredible.”

Blackmon did see Linda England again — in a dream on the birthday of her friend’s middle son, Matthew.

“I texted him and said, ‘Hey, your mom came to me in a dream. She hugged me, and we cried; she’s OK,’” Blackmon recalls, while adding that she also wished him a happy birthday. “And he said, ‘She came to me just a while back, too,’ so she’s still out there with us somewhere.”

Though she is gone physically, Christopher believes her spirit still lives in East Dallas.

“I do know that the White Rock area will always have a little bit of mom around, be it at Whole Foods, be it at St. Thomas or in our neighborhood,” he says. “Her legacy will not evaporate from that place.”