It was nothing fancy - only a small family, some friends, clergy, and a few politco's standing in the rain, gathered together under umbrellas around a tree. The young tree was a hickory about 15 feet tall in Recreation Park (ABC Field) protected behind a wood fence make of white pickets and adorned with a bow someone made of Christmas ribbon. The group around the tree were mixed by age and gender. Their common thread was the loss of someone special, which made the bond from person to person seem stronger then the fence around the tree.
The dedication and blessing was short and to the point; like the person who had them all gathered. And when it was over, it was nothing fancy - only the truth, like Stan Savinese would have asked for.
Here is the memorial dedication for Stan Savinese by Terry Bradley, Esq.
In Honor and Loving Memory of Stan Savinese, I offer this tree. It is a Hickory ˆ a Shagbark to be exact. Shagbarks' are known for their strength, their high shock resistance, their generosity to man and wildlife, flexibility and versatility. How appropriate. A good tree for a good man.
I met Stan during my first week as Borough Manager at the Borough Hall. I remember when he introduced himself to me. I was unsure ˆ friend or foe? He explained his role as Chair of the Telecommunications Committee, and then assured me that he would take care of everything until I had mustered up some sea legs. He was kind, reassuring, gentle. It was not long before I knew for certain ˆ I could count on Stan as a friend.
Stan stopped by the Borough Hall often. When he didn't for whatever reason: appointments, commitments, travel, I missed his presence. I'd send him an email to ask how he was doing. His answers always came back swiftly. He was fine, nice to be thought of, no need to worry, etc. I very much enjoyed afternoons when he would stop by, just to check in and chat. He would inevitably broach his favorite subject: Anne, and Rusty and his girls. He spoke of them with such love. On occasion, I'd see him make an effort to be humble when he spoke of his family. He thought so highly of his kids, had such pride in them.
He loved recounting stories of his grandkids. He chuckled as he told me the story of his bump on the head, expressing gratitude for having grandkids that would be happy to wrestle with him. If not for them, he would not have bumped his head, and the faulty wiring in his skull (as he so gently put it), would have gone undiscovered.
His visits became a ray of sunshine in my world. Stan was consistently encouraging, kind, supportive. He was gentle. He was considerate in more ways than I can rightfully express. In essence, Stan was a class act, the real deal.
What great good fortune for me to have met him. He has made a lasting and positive impression in my life. What a blessing it must have been to be in his inner circle ˆ how fortunate you all are to have been loved by Stan. I hope this tree lasts forever, for as long as his love lives in all of you. May it stand as a permanent symbol of Stan's strength, flexibility, versatility and generosity.
Nothing fancy- just the truth
by Terry Bradley