Brian Leahy, R.I.P.

Brian Leahy was my cousin and my friend. And while we may not been the lead players in each others day-to-day lives, I wanted to express my feelings on his recent passing. For a more personal and intimate look at his life, click HERE to read a warm tribute by his daughter Ann.

We were nearly the same age, but Brian was nine months older, and while we were in the same grade, he was always a little taller and thus a pattern was set that would endure for many years. He was my cousin, and we always had that family bond, but as high school seniors, he was a star footballer, heavily recruited by many name colleges before finally accepting a scholarship to Boston College, Meanwhile, recognizing that my meager hockey talents weren't going to take me very far, I scrambled after acceptance letters. And everyone in the CYO seemed to know him, especially the girls. while this sounds like a foundation for jealousy, it never worked out that way. If you knew Brian, envy was impossible. Even then he was warm-hearted and funny and you couldn't help but like him, even after he might have ground you into the grid iron of a Saturday, or treated you to an old-fashioned Dorchester roll-around.

As we grew older, Brian's career followed a path in the public sector, which, every once in a while landed his name in the newspaper. He was well-suited for the rough and tumble of public life and he seemed to thrive in that arena. I always enjoyed seeing his name in print, taking a small measure of vicarious pride in his fame. I opted for a private sector career, which eventually crossed our paths when his pension fund became a client of my firm. While we decided to keep our relationship under our hats, this afforded me an opportunity to hear about him from a professional perspective. Not surprisingly, the reviews were good. Within the tangled world of public pensions, Brian stood out as a man of high integrity, a pleasure to deal with, always full of good humor and regard for others.

As the years went by, we had a chance to recapture a little of the camaraderie we had enjoyed as kids when our two families would combine for holidays and weekend excursions in my father's old Ford. Over the years of running the rat race, I had learned a few things, mostly the hard way, about the true priorities in life, the precious value of family, home roots and the importance of spirituality. As Brian and I began to see more of each other, I realized the old pattern was still in place. He had an unabashed devotion to his wife, Evie, and his family, his Catholic faith and his beloved Dorchester. Once again, he was a step ahead of me.

Last Thursday, we said good bye to Brian at St Ann's Church. His immediate family and close friends grieved openly and understandably, but even those of us more on the fringes of his life, felt the loss of the warmth of his great heart. Godspeed Brian. You were a good man, in the very best sense of the word, and you are leaving a huge void in so many lives. We will all struggle to fill that void with precious memories. R.I.P.