Crowe is his last name, but it's the only name he'll give you to call him. To this day, no one in the Dirty South community knows Crowe's legal name except Crowe, and the only one before that was his wife, who died nearly 20yrs ago.

Crowe doesn't talk about his early life much. He was a simple boy who could've probably done better in school. He married his high school sweetheart and joined the military after graduating, doing three tours of duty before returning home and going to college, only to earn a degree he never really used. Crowe was a temperamental man before the war, but he came home aggressive and antisocial when provoked, and prone to drinking. Still, he kept it in check for his wife, who was what really held his anger in check. He never wanted to upset her, because she was the only person that greeted him off the bus when he returned from war.

He held an average job, as did she, and they had a few children who have since had a few children, none of whom really have anything to do with Crowe nowadays. He and his wife had a fairly social life in their 30s and 40s, having friends and neighbors they hung out with. They were in a bowling league, and they loved going thrifting. Crowe and his wife amassed quite a collection of trinkets and odd little things in their years together.

A few years into her 40s, his wife got sick, and amidst expenses they sold their home and moved to the Dirty South trailer park, where Crowe became reclusive as he handled his wife's sickness, moreso when she passed. Crowe was in his 50s and entirely alone in a neighborhood he'd never interacted with. After that, it wasn't strange to go weeks without ever seeing Crowe leave his house. It wasn't until Swamp moved into the community and took notice that his neighbor never left home that he decided to start checking on him, making sure he was awake and eating. Crowe drank profusely, and Swamp would keep tabs on him to make sure he was doing okay. Crowe was prone to rambling about his early life in his drunken state, the life he missed with his wife, and how he never does anything nowadays. These visits were largely uneventful until one day Swamp, much to Crowe's protest, locked him out of his own house until he went bowling with him. After that, the bowling became a weekly thing. Then Nico and Ganymede started going. Then Crowe started coming to Swamp's house for dinner. Then Nico and Ganymede started visiting him too, and vice versa. Then Crowe started drinking less.

Years passed and these friendships only deepened. Crowe talks their ears off about the same stories over and over again, and they listen just as if they'd never heard it before. He's still a cantankerous asshole, but he's gotten softer. He learned some cooking through Swamp, and some mindfulness skills through Nico. He's even gotten to where he's good friends with Lucky, even though he was jealous of the attention Lucky got from Swamp when he first moved in. Crowe keeps his house as his wife had it, decorated with floral designs and cute things, and he's got a garage full of their trinkets that he likes to bring his friends into to tell them stories about his old life, but he smiles more now telling those stories than he used to.