Harry W. Healey, Jr. was the celebrated youngest child of Helen and Harry Sr., a kind-hearted and scrappy couple living in Lowell, MA. Helen had several miscarriages between the birth of their middle son Bob and the arrival of Harry, so when he was born there was a big to-do! Harry, in turn, was incredibly proud of and loyal to his family, always describing them with great accolades. But perhaps nearly more than anyone, the person he loved and admired most was his brother, Bob. Throughout their lives, Bob served as a sounding board and role model. Harry said that not only was Bob so kind that he bordered on saintliness but there was also no one who influenced his life more, period.

Some of Harry’s most revered stories were from his childhood. He grew up in a modest community in a family of limited means— but the details of his childhood were rich. He grew up with his maternal grandmother, whom his daughter Bess is named after, living with his family. She was a complete force of nature— a “women’s libber” who drank liquor, cussed like a sailor and had a cat who dropped her off at church and picked her back up for the walk home. In the winter, his mom would bring hot coffee or whiskey to the guys who were shoveling snow or removing trash. And his father was the first gentile in the area to donate to the United Jewish Appeal and the first white man to bail a black man out of jail in the city of Lowell. Harry's elders were people who didn’t give a hoot about anyone’s details aside from their character and all three thought the Healey kids were the absolute bees knees.

Harry was a graduate of Holy Cross and subsequently, the Williams School of Banking. He was tenacious, hardworking and charming— all of which gelled together perfectly to make him very successful in matters of business. As his career progresses, Harry held prestigious presidential positions at Lincoln Trust, Stanton Cummings Ltd. and US Trust Norfolk. He served on an array of boards of directors including those at Derby Academy, Notre Dame Academy, College of the Holy Cross, Bridgewater University and South Shore Hospital. He was also a Knight of Malta.

Harry was scrappy and a force to be reckoned with. He was old school in all ways and believed that hard work was the only surefire way to success.

However, his greatest success started with a big helping of luck. Harry was driving over to the Newton School of the Sacred Heart to see his girlfriend, Ursula. Upon his arrival, he drove by a young woman walking whom he found so enchanting that up until his death he remembered what she was wearing: a blue sweater and Bermuda shorts. That woman was Annie. Fast forward a bit— Harry does some recon with his friends to figure out who the heck the woman is, he finds a way to be in the same room as her via a double date and he drops the girlfriend like a hot potato so he can be with Annie (sorry Ursula). He admitted that he had always discounted stories about love at first sight, but then it happened to him— he fell in love with an equal force of nature from Virginia!

That initial success of finding his soulmate compounded into a bigger success- together they welcomed seven children: Peter, Bess, Bob, Bill, Jeff, Martha and Chip; all of whom grew up to be wonderful stand-up people. In turn, those people had kids and then, grandkids. At the time of his death, Grampy—as he was affectionately called— was the grandfather to nine and the great-grandfather to eight children.

In his life, Harry took raising kids and being successful in business seriously with little margin for error. But he was greatly softened by being a grandfather. Whether it was a dance recital, a theater performance, a graduation or a birthday, you could count on Grampy and Annie to be there.

He enjoyed being around his family and was a relaxed host. Whether it be to swim in the pool, an impromptu cookout or a holiday gathering, Harry and Annie’s house was the spot. They were especially known for hosting epic Christmas Eves where there was plenty of good cheer, singing carols off key and a slew of pristinely wrapped gifts. Over the years, Harry taught many of his grandchildren how to pop champagne bottles from the front door into his driveway on Christmas Eve. Each time, taking the risk one of them would take either his or their eyes out accidentally and when they shot them off toward the flag pole without injury, he would let out a deep, satisfied laugh. Their collective eyes would live to see another day.

He was a business man, a family man and perhaps what he most identified with: a devout Catholic. He believed deeply in God and had many mentors throughout his life as he navigated his spirituality. One of the most influential was Father Beaudoin, an American missionary stationed at one time in the Philippines during World War II. He was taken as a prisoner of war during the Japanese invasion and was tortured. He showed compassion to his fellow prisoners by sharing what little food he was given with the most vulnerable among them. No other prisoners followed suit. He emerged from the war less than ninety pounds, about half of his original body weight. Harry met him as a young man when he attempted to sell him ecclesiastic memorials. He felt certain he was in the presence of a living saint, much like how he felt about his brother, Bob. Ultimately, Father Beaudoin’s health deteriorated so significantly that he was placed in an iron lung. He exhibited impressive mental fortitude like he had in the war and had a little sign above the iron lung that read, “Smile and nobody will know what you’ve been up to.” Harry found how Father Beaudoin lived out his Christian faith to be very inspiring and thought of him often throughout his own life.

The greatest lesson Harry ever gave us was this: we are made up of all the people that loved us and taught us. Each leaves an imprint on us that we will carry on forever.

One thing is for certain, each of us who knew and loved him will carry on his imprint. May God bless him and may he be waiting at the gates of heaven when we are each called home.