Do you believe in coincidences? I’m no astrophysicist, but my life seems to be a series of coincidences that, like Spiderman’s web, have enabled me to spring from one rooftop to another.
Once you hear my story, you’ll understand why I’ve evolved into coach, counselor, “matchmaker” and all-around problem-solver for folks who want to move forward and thrive through the process of leaving one home behind and finding another.
It’s hard to leave behind a home that you love and find that next person who will love it just as much.
It’s even harder to find that next home you’ll love as much or more than the one you left behind.
I’ve been there and done that — 15 times. I did this while working, traveling, raising a family and then morphing into an empty nester. It’s never been easy, but it has become easier each time.
After amazing, challenging and diverse careers, education, mentors and experiences, I became a New Jersey Realtor® in 2016 serving the Shore area. Soon after, I relocated to Palm Beach County, Florida, to live life South Florida-style.
Maddy Cohen, Realtor®
Realty 100 Real Estate
My long and winding road began in Miss Joan DeVito’s first-grade class (John Street School in Franklin Square, a suburb of New York City). I was waiting at the librarian’s desk. I took a moment to look up at the high walls lined with book shelves. A decorative poster across the room, likely one taped up in libraries for decades, read “Travel the World Through Books!” It may sound corny, but it was my “a-ha moment.”
Why? I remember thinking back then that books would in fact be the only way I’d ever “see” the world. So, that poster inspired me to become an avid reader. Lucky for me, my future self was adventurous enough to grab opportunities that sometimes took me around the world, more than a few times. Still, that memory sticks with me vividly because, as I move from one new challenge to the next, I feel like I’m thumbing my nose at childish assumptions about limitations.
I did want to be a cowgirl (at 6) and then a journalist (at 8) and then a restaurateur (at 9), an archaeologist (at 11), and a filmmaker (at 16). I was able to satisfy most of these ambitions (dude ranches and rodeos don’t count) with the support of great teachers and mentors who opened doors to that big, wide world. Along the way, I met people from around the world and learned that Franklin Square was very tiny, indeed.
In the sixth grade, Mrs. Lingenfelter expected excellence, every day in every way. She opened the door to the real world by teaching us why staying abreast of world news is important. She taught us how to read oversized The New York Times strategically. She taught us how to make maps. She focused on the environment, researching our roots, writing, future careers. School had become exciting, the dangling carrot of possibility.
My worldly and wise seventh-grade English teacher, Miss Adele Apfel, asked me to join three classmates in a regular gig on the new in-house cable television station. This was the Sixties, when techies were the guys in the A-V Club who kept the 16mm projectors running. As an on-air journalist (!), 12-year-old me reported mostly on archeology (!) – hey, no one said I couldn’t! We had become broadcast media pioneers, demonstrating the potential of remote learning. Who could imagine that PCs would arrive two decades later, or that today, remote learning would be the norm.
Despite my aspirational commitment to archeology and stints as junior high newspaper editor and senior high paper monthly travel columnist (I was “The Young New Yorker”), my tenth grade English teacher, Mr. Lee Brown, a champion of thinking outside the box, strongly encouraged me to go into filmmaking. Communications studies were new to academia then, so departing from a traditional curriculum was totally appealing. In fact, I was so eager to follow my star, I decided to skip my senior year and enter NYU as a filmmaking major via its Early Acceptance program. A year later, I transferred into the university’s newly-established Tisch School of the Arts.
Acting classes, television and radio production, and liberal arts were part of the filmmaking curriculum. During my four years there, most film production and film history classes were taught by a precocious graduate student named Martin Scorsese. We didn’t know he was on the cusp of fame, he was just “Marty” to us. I’d never met anyone quite so invested, so committed to anything. His love of film, its heritage, its aesthetics, its great filmmakers, and its possibilities made all of us believe we could do anything. He went on to prove that’s so.
During my college years I waitressed during the summer, first at my cousin’s coffee shop in New York’s garment district, and then in a neighbor’s suburban coffee shop. Waitressing in retrospect was one of my all-time favorite jobs. I met people from so many walks of life and formed friendships, absorbed the restaurant business, took away some great pro kitchen tips, and most importantly, learned the art of conversation.
In my senior year, I started working after class and on weekends at Hilly’s on West 9th St. in Greenwich Village. The owner, Hilly Kristal, was a stern taskmaster with a commanding persona. A former musician, he ran a popular musical showcase in the bar’s rear showroom, where performances ran the gamut of genres. One regular performer was a young woman who looked like no one I had ever seen before. She wore retro cocktail gowns, ‘30s-style makeup, and sometimes a small hat and veil. She waited silently in the back of the dark showroom for her cue, and always brought the house down with her unique voice. Years later, watching a movie, I had another “a-ha” moment. I realized that young woman from the showroom was Bette Midler.
Upon graduation, I quit Hilly’s to pursue a career. Hilly moved the place to the Bowery and changed the name to CBGB’s. Both the club and Hilly became legendary for introducing punk rock and bands including The Ramones to the world.
A few weeks after graduation, Scorsese recruited a bunch of our classmates to travel upstate to work on a small documentary film his friend was making. Marty was assistant director and was able to easily find volunteers within our ranks. I was already gone however, gainfully employed by the time the other volunteers arrived at Yasgur’s farm. Little did I know that “little” movie would become “Woodstock.” The rest is history.
It was serendipity that had taken me a few weeks earlier to the annual New York Comicon. A classmate begged me to meet his idol, well-known comic book artist Jim Steranko, who subsequently invited me to attend Comic Con with him. Knowing I was just graduating and in need of a job, he seized the opportunity as my wingman to present me to a colleague in desperate need of a “Gal Friday.” My “interview” lasted under three minutes when I revealed my filmmaking background, and I was hired.
Following that holiday weekend, I started my career as assistant to Stan Lee, the editor of Marvel Comics. In retrospect, it was the Silver Age of comics, a time of great art and writing, on the cusp of literary legitimacy for comics, and I had walked into the middle of it. As “Mimi Gold,” my name back then, I became an editor and a colorist, utilizing my understanding of story sequencing, screenplay writing and photography. Most importantly, role models and mentors around me proved that passion and imagination break through boundaries, real and imagined. Today I continue to participate in events and magazine interviews about Stan Lee and the Silver Age at Marvel, and remain in touch with former colleagues and even the “new kids” in the biz.
Alter Ego, the comic book fandom magazine, with a feature article on my time in the industry
As an editor and writer at McGraw Hill’s “Today’s Secretary” magazine, I went on assignment to London to interview Stella Dean, secretary to The Rolling Stones. I’d been to London several times at that point, but I honed my professional persona with a perfect Sloane Ranger haircut and Biba lipstick for the occasion. Regrettably, I never met Mick.
As a “coffee table” book editor, I again brought my filmmaking background to edit “The Platinum Years” by popular film critic Richard Schickel. And when I moved on to “Super8Filmmaker Magazine” as editor in chief, I was able to splash Marvel’s Amazing Spiderman across the October ’74 issue cover, marrying two career milestones. In 2011, I was stunned to see that director JJ Abrams immortalized that cover in his film “Super 8,” an homage to his teenage filmmaking days. He read the magazine regularly, entered a student film festival, and was subsequently discovered by Steven Spielberg. Ever hear of six degrees of separation?
Joining “The Travel Agent” magazine as a Destinations Editor and reporter provided a chance to see much more of the world. I interviewed hotel, airline and cruise executives daily, but I traveled the world to report on destinations and facilities. Florida was one of my regular “beats,” so I got to know the state well.
During that period I was invited to Paradise Island by Resorts International, which was developing the island into a casino destination. Our group’s host was the resort’s vice president of Food & Beverage. I had no idea that a casual meeting would have such impact on my future, but as we spoke at length about the hotel industry and restaurant management, Ralph encouraged me to go back to school at night after work to earn a culinary degree. He promised me that many women were doing just that, breaking the gender barrier and diversifying the kitchen hierarchy away from European-trained males to anyone tenacious and talented.
That summer I applied for the hotel and restaurant management program at New York Tech in Brooklyn, attending classes for five years at night. By the time I graduated, I had continued to travel on assignment, become a food columnist for the Soho Weekly News, and, most importantly, was recruited by Hilton International as a staff writer and soon promoted to corporate manager of public relations for hotels in Europe, Africa, Asia and Australia, a position I held for a decade.
My marketing responsibilities included producing content for the media as well as organizing complicated and insightful itineraries for press trips. I accompanied journalists to our hotels worldwide, meeting general managers and executive chefs, going into their hotels, kitchens, restaurants and learning about international cuisine, customs and cultures. I also indulged my penchant for archaeology, traveling many times to Egypt, Israel, Greece, England and other places where fabulous finds have been unearthed. Working closely with Hilton’s Food Research Center, I was able to utilize editing and culinary knowledge and served as in-house editor of the company’s hardcover coffee table cookbook, “Dining in Grand Style.”
When a hostile takeover of Hilton International scattered corporate staff, I opened MCPR, a hotel and destination PR agency. The many connections I’d made over the years brought in business from the get-go. While I spent long days representing fabulous hotels and resorts in Hawaii, New York and Europe, I also brought two sons into the world and am forever grateful to the nannies from all over the world – Jean, Michelle, Hilary, Manu, Radka, Claudia and George — who joined our family and helped us thrive.
Several years later, I joined a boutique Manhattan marketing communications firm, PT&Co., to work for 15 years with tourism clients such as South Africa, Delta Queen Steamboat, Cancun, State of Connecticut, Wyndham Hotels, organizations such as the Navy Seabees, and brands such as Corningware, All-Clad, Chicago Cutlery, Avon, Yankee Candle and Godiva. Thanks to the Food Network, chefs were becoming celebrities, so we recruited many to represent brands for print, broadcast and in-person events. Being able to talk shop with them was efficient but also great fun.
Our award-winning agency, led by Patrice Tanaka, serial entrepreneur and founder of Joyful Planet LLC, a business and life strategy consultancy, created groundbreaking social justice programs for many clients. Our campaign for Liz Claiborne’s “Love is Not Abuse” which addressed domestic violence and prevention won more than 50 awards. Avon’s annual Breast Cancer Awareness walk has become one of the nation’s most important fundraisers. The agency operated with its mission in mind: “Great Work. Great Workplace. Great Communities that Work.”
So, why did I leave all that behind? I took a break for a number of years to battle Rheumatoid Arthritis. With the help of great doctors at NYU Langone, 30+ orthopedic surgeries, and new inroads in medication, I got back into the fast lane, ready for my next ride.
I’d traveled the world and met people from across the globe representing countless cultures, religions and economic backgrounds. I realized that the PepsiCo exhibit at 1964 World’s Fair got it right: “It’s a Small World, After All.” People everywhere want the same thing – physical and emotional safety and security for the entire family. My career as a lifestyle content creator had been exciting, but was I channeling words into action?
High-energy people continuously set goals. I knew my next step had to create the opportunity to give back all that I had experienced and learned throughout my life. All of my teachers and mentors would have wanted that. Although I support a number of animal rescue, environmental conservation and medical research organizations, I wanted to become involved in something life-changing. “Go Big or Go Home” was how we approached marketing challenges. I realized that my “Go Big” could be orchestrating that part of people’s lives that enable them to “Go Home.”
Other than relationships and career, finding a home that provides safety and security is the most important goal anyone can have. Finding the right home — a home people truly love to come home to – is no easy task. Over the past three and a half years, I’ve built a real estate business in South Florida, with brand recognition and a digital presence. The goal has been to shepherd those in need of a new home in South Florida through the complicated process of finding it and buying it, and if needed, helping them sell the home they currently reside in for top market value.
To be the matchmaker I’ve become, using people skills and intuition wisely, I’ve earned designations from the National Association of Realtors® as a Buyer’s Representative (ABR®), Seller Representative (SRS), Military Relocation Professional (MRP), Short Sale & Foreclosure Resource (SFR), Certified Real Estate Negotiations Expert (RENE), and Certified ‘At Home with Diversity’ agent (AHWD). I’ve also received my CPRES designation as a Certified Probate Real Estate Specialist which relates to estates and conservatorships. During 2023 I’ll complete the last two of the eight-unit Graduate Realtor Institute (GRI) program.
Concierge services have been added to our roster which include repairs, updates, staging, clean-outs including redistribution of goods to charities, vehicle transport, and more. All our efforts enable everyone wanting to live the South Florida lifestyle to do so in the best way possible.
That’s not all I do, but it’s a big part of who I am. My vocation is mission-driven, and I carry that awareness with me daily. Though I remain a storyteller through my writing, painting and digital presence, my work in real estate reminds me every day that I’m helping people. To quote “The Road Not Taken,” my favorite poem, “…And that has made all the difference.”
