Wrentham

ANNA
Born in 1948 in Woonsocket, Rhode Island, Anna’s early life was shaped by resilience and faith. Her father died when she was an infant; her mother remarried twice more, and Anna grew up under a strict stepfather. “My stepfather was very strict with me,” she says. Still, school was a refuge. “I liked school very much,” she recalls, even though college was not an option then. “Women don’t need to go to college to wash diapers,” her stepfather told her.

Anna began working at 11, and for years her stepfather kept her pay. “He took every paycheck,” she says. “It wasn’t easy, but it made me a stronger person.” That strength carried into her own family. She and her husband have been married 58 years and raised three children. “I always said that, if they wanted to go to college, they would go,” she says. Today, her daughter is a chemical engineer, another is director of the local library, and her son holds a master’s in psychology and works for the state.

Faith has been Anna’s steady guide. “The biggest event in my life is when I became Catholic,” she says. “I’m a Catholic, and God carried me all through these good and bad experiences in my life.” Through loss, change, and the demands of work and family, that belief anchored her and shaped her outlook. She’s proud of the paths her children have found and the independence they’ve built.

 

At the Wrentham COA, Anna is known for her warmth and kindness. She values the community, the routines, and the chance to keep giving back in small ways that matter. When asked how she’d like to be remembered, Anna pauses, then smiles. “I’d like to be remembered as… kind.”

 

“Follow your dreams, because they can become reality.”

ROBERT (BOB)
Born in Boston, Robert “Bob” Casavier grew up in a close‑knit family and learned early the value of honesty and hard work. He and his sister got along well, though distance later stretched their time together. “She lives in California now, so I don’t get to see her too often,” he says. School led him toward public service, and he went on to college, majoring in law enforcement—a path that would shape his career and his outlook.

Bob served as a police officer for 20 years, rising to chief of security at a hospital and later working as an investigator for insurance companies. “I enjoy investigating,” he says, describing his work probing possible fraud, including fires and staged accidents. “Any kind of fraud you may commit with the insurance company… That’s what we did—go out and investigate the possible crime.” He even appeared in court to defend claims, a role he had hoped to pursue as a detective earlier in his career.

 

Family has always been central to Bob’s story. He raised two children and made sure they had opportunities he didn’t. “My parents didn’t go to college. I went to college. My two kids—I sent them to college, and they did very well for themselves,” he says. His son became a banker, and his daughter also built a successful career.

 

Bob’s advice to young people is straightforward and grounded. “Stay off the phones,” he says. He’s not big on social media or the latest tech, preferring real conversations and face‑to‑face connection.

When asked how he’d like to be remembered, Bob thinks for a moment. “Being able to talk… I enjoy people’s company,” he says. It’s a simple wish from a man who spent decades listening, asking questions, and seeking the truth.

 

“Be true to yourself, and be honest with people, and treat them as you wish people would treat you.”

 

CHARLENE

Born in Denver, Colorado, Charlene grew up in a lively, loving family. “I had 26 cousins on my mom’s side, 28 on my dad’s side,” she says. Though they didn’t live nearby, summers meant gathering at her grandmother’s place in southern Colorado with cousins for plenty of fun. The oldest of four, Charlene stayed close to her two sisters and brother. “We still call all the time… I talked to them probably once a week, all three of them.”

Her parents set a steady tone: “They were strict. But kind and loving, and they allowed me to spread my wings.” School left a lasting mark, thanks to teachers who challenged her. “My girlfriends and I always say we had absolutely the best teachers in the world… That’s why I became a teacher.” She went on to teach grades one through six in Attleboro for 35 years.

College was a first taste of independence. “That was the first time I’d ever lived away from home,” she says, recalling dorm life, a boarding house with a dozen girls, and sprints across campus over a giant hill to make it to class. After graduation, a trip to Spain changed everything. She met her husband, Dale, on day three; he proposed on day four. “I said yes.” They married in March and have been together 56 years.

 

Family remains the heart of Charlene’s world. She and Dale settled in Norton, where they raised three children—two daughters and a son—who now live within five miles. She delights in her three grandchildren, an 11‑year‑old grandson and two granddaughters, ages 13 and 15. “They’ve grown up with [technology], so they know it… anything that I have to have fixed, I call my grandkids.”

 

Charlene sees how childhood has changed. “We used to be outside all the time… there were kids in the neighborhood, and we just played outside a lot.” She values today’s opportunities but misses the freedom of simpler days.

 

When asked how she’d like to be remembered, Charlene smiles. “As a fun teacher, as a nice, kind person.”

 

“Have fun. Go out and explore things. Don’t limit yourself to just one path.”

DAVE

Born and raised in Boston, Dave grew up in the city’s public schools and later trained to be a teacher. He attended Boston State College, where he studied education and earned a master’s degree. His career took him from Boston classrooms to schools in other towns, and later to time living in Colorado and Longmeadow. Teaching was a natural fit: “They were looking for a math teacher… I said, ‘No problem.’ Bingo—I had a job.”

 

Family was a steady presence in Dave’s childhood. His father worked 38 years as a machinist, often coming home with burns from hot metal. His mother never worked outside the home. The youngest of three, Dave had a sister 13 years older and a brother three years older; both have since passed away. Sports were a big part of family life, and that love of athletics stayed with him.

 

After college, Dave stepped straight into teaching math while finishing his master’s, commuting between Boston and other towns. He raised three children—two daughters and a son—and became a grandfather to seven. His wife passed away five years ago, and he now lives alone. Through changes and losses, he’s kept a steady, easygoing outlook.

 

Dave values getting along with others and staying approachable. “I can get along with anybody,” he says. “If they don’t want to deal with me, that’s fine.” It’s a simple philosophy that reflects decades of working with students, colleagues, and neighbors.

 

When asked how he’d like to be remembered, Dave pauses, then smiles. “I just want to be remembered,” he says, laughing a little at the question.

 

“I can get along with anybody. If they don’t want to deal with me, that’s fine.”

RICHARD (DICK)
Born Richard but better known as Dick, he grew up during the Great Depression and World War II in a home that was “wonderful but isolated.” His father, a ship captain, was away nine months of the year, and his mother was old‑fashioned about emotion but big on care. “Nobody told me, you know, you had to do this, or, nobody punished me. It was just expected that my sister and I would behave a certain way.” That blend of structure and freedom shaped him early.

As a kid, Dick was “very introverted… a nerd,” with just a few close friends and a huge curiosity. He built a serious chemistry set in the basement—so serious that a police officer once walked him home after spotting him with homemade “pipe bombs.” His mother’s response was firm: “Okay, you got two days to get rid of your chemistry set.” He traded it to a neighbor for electronics gear, a switch that changed his life. “Then I wound up being a physicist, electrical engineer.”

That curiosity fueled a long, inventive career. Dick went on to earn about 50 inventions and, in a second creative chapter, paint around 500 works. “I did a wonderful life,” he says simply. He’s also been a “very much a loner” for most of his life, noting, “I rarely talked until I got to be about 80, 85. And now I can’t stop.” All those years of ideas finally had room to come out.

 

Family has been a central part of his story. He and his first wife raised three children and now have many grandchildren and great‑grandchildren. After their marriage ended, he met his present wife at a singles dance, and together they blend two large families. “When vacation all together, we have anywhere… 10 to 20 people, depending on where it is—just my family, first family, or my second family.”

 

Now 93, Dick looks ahead with quiet optimism. “I hope to live another three, four, five years,” he says, still engaged with the people and projects around him. Whether it’s computers, software, or the woods—like the grandson training to be a forest ranger—he believes following that spark is what makes a life work.

 

“Find your passion. That is essential.”

GAIL
Born in Boston’s Jamaica Plain neighborhood, Gail grew up in a close, lively Italian family. “I grew up in a three‑decker in Jamaica Plain,” she says. Her mother stayed home until Gail was about seven, then went to work; her father, an oil salesman and Pearl Harbor survivor, was active in the Pearl Harbor Survivors Association. “We lived in a house with everyone else in the house was related, so my grandmother and cousins.” Holidays meant open‑house celebrations with “tons of food,” and summers meant weekends at Lake Archers in Wrentham. “Those are my strongest memories of having fun with cousins, and, you know, swimming together, and all that.”
 

School took an unexpected turn in fourth grade, when an IQ test led to a special offer. “They would like to put me in an experimental fifth and sixth grade… I had to go to the Edwin P. Stevenson [School].” At just 10, she rode the trolley or bus alone to a classroom with movable desks and self‑paced learning. “That was the best two years… I loved it. I absolutely loved it.” The shift to Girls Latin afterward felt jarring by comparison: “It was really difficult to move from this free‑spirited, trusting environment to a classical environment.”
 

Gail went on to college, earning a degree in math, and built a career in technology. “I was a computer programmer, and then a systems analyst… It’s probably called developer, some other term now.” She later chose to step away from that path to focus on family. “I left my career… I couldn’t split myself between children and a job. I needed to be completely focused on them.” She stayed home until her two sons were older, then returned to work in a different field.
 

Family remains central to Gail’s story. She has two sons and two grandchildren from one of them.
 

Beyond the everyday joys of family life, she points to deeper turning points that shaped her outlook. “I had a couple of really big spiritual experiences. They changed my life… It made the point of my life to awaken to the fullness of who we really are, beyond three dimensions.”

When asked how she’d like to be remembered, Gail doesn’t hesitate. “I hope I’m remembered as someone who was extremely curious, very creative, and very loving.”
 

“Love is the only power. We need to forgive. If we don’t, it impedes our ability to love, and love is really our true nature.”

 

JANE
Born in Windsor Locks, Connecticut, in 1955, Jane grew up in a home she describes as “problematic.” “I’ve needed years of therapy to deal with it,” she says. That honesty sets the tone for her story: a life shaped by hard truths, hard work, and a deliberate choice to heal.

School became her refuge and her pathway forward. “School was my saving grace. It was my way to get out of my home,” Jane recalls. She earned a master’s degree at the University of Connecticut and landed her first job in career counseling and placement at Curry College in Milton. “That was my first job,” she says, though she adds that it “didn’t really work out that good” and was “a little above my experience level.”

From there, Jane moved into a different role at Harvard Law School. “I went on to get a job as an… staff assistant, well, I would say more of a receptionist at Harvard Law School.” It was a step onto a prestigious campus, even if the title was modest, and part of her longer journey of finding stability and purpose.
 

At 26, Jane married and went on to raise three children. Parenting was a chance to do things differently. “I got a lot of therapy, so I wouldn’t repeat the mistakes of my parents,” she says. She decided to take responsibility for her own healing so it wouldn’t be passed on: “So the buck stops with me.”
 

When asked how she’d like to be remembered, Jane’s answer is simple and direct. “As a loving person.”
 

“Reach out, get help… so it doesn’t continue until another generation.”
 

JANET
Born and raised in the Boston area, Janet grew up in what she calls a “disorganized kind of family.” Her parents separated, and over the years she gained many siblings through different family connections. “If you want to count them off, then I probably have 19,” she says with a laugh. Despite the chaos at home, school became a steady, happy place. “I love school. I love the libraries. I love to read.”
 

She grew up in Squantum, right on the water, and spent much of her childhood swimming and enjoying the ocean. “It was… a lot of swimming and so on and so forth. Yeah, which was fun.” Janet went on to train as a nurse and later became a pediatric nurse practitioner, one of the first in the state. “Actually, one of the first ones in the state, in pediatrics,” she says, marking a proud milestone in her career.
 

Janet’s work took her from hospital pediatric floors to doctors’ offices and back again. “I worked in the office… I worked on a pediatric floor… I work at the hospital, and now I’m from the office, and I work there.” Through all the changes, one thing stayed constant: “I’ve always worked… But enjoyed it.” Outside of work, her love of the water never faded. “I love the water, you know?”
 

In later life, Janet moved to Norfolk to be closer to family and now spends time at the local senior center. “The people here are just so lovely, you know?” She keeps up with the world through Facebook, mostly reading political news, and is honest about how technology can be tricky. “I go on Facebook and just go searching around… I’m not really good at it.” Still, she stays curious and engaged.
 

Looking back, Janet sees a world that has grown more complex. “It was a lot less complicated, I think, back then… It was a lot less expensive.” She notices how much has changed with computers and social media, and how hard that can be for older adults. Yet she meets new experiences with humor and openness—like the day an art‑store clerk convinced her to buy expensive watercolor paper and then told her, “You have to think of what your meaning is… Go with the flow.”
 

That advice fits more than just painting. It’s a quiet reminder to know what matters and move with life as it comes.
 

“Know what your meaning is… and go with the flow.”

JOANNE
Born in Boston, Massachusetts, Joanne grew up as an only child in a home that was loving but small. “I was an only child… I had everything I needed growing up, but I had no brothers or sisters.” Looking back, she sees both sides of that experience. “Kind of lonely. I didn’t really realize it until I got older what I had missed, not having a brother or sister.” That feeling shaped her own family later: “When I got married, I was determined that my kids weren’t gonna be only children.”

 

School wasn’t her favorite place, but she stuck with it. “I didn’t like it. I graduated, though, through the 12th grade, but I didn’t want to go to college.” Her dream was simple and clear: “I just wanted to get married and have four boys.” Life adjusted the numbers—she ended up with three children, two girls and one boy—but kept the focus on home. “After I got married, I stayed at home, and my husband worked two jobs, so I could stay with the kids.”

 

Joanne’s work life had its own adventures. Her first job was as a file clerk at an insurance company, and years later she waited tables and even co‑owned a diner in Dedham. “We ran that for six years, and that was a lot of fun. I really liked that. Met a lot of interesting people.” She married young, divorced after five years, stayed single for 13, and then found a lasting partnership. “I met my husband that I’m married to now, and we’ve been married 44 years.”

 

Family remains the center of Joanne’s world. Her children are close to one another and to her, and every fall they take her away for a week. One year, they surprised her with an 80th birthday party for about 60 guests. “It was crazy. I was totally surprised… My kids are really good to me.” She doesn’t have grandchildren, but she’s full of love for her “granddogs” and the younger people in her life. “I spoil them just like I would my grandkids if I had any.”

 

A later chapter of her life quietly reshaped her. For 13 years, Joanne worked at a nursing home up the street, where she saw how many residents had no visitors. “It just showed me that you need to reach out to people… I just felt that was awful.” She began visiting two women on her days off, even after she left the job, and stayed with them until they passed away. “I think that that really helped me become who I am today.”

 

“Listen to your parents. Because they’re only there to love you.”

 

JOE

Born in Framingham, Massachusetts, Joe grew up in a home he remembers bluntly: “Growing up, lousy.” That early experience became a quiet promise to himself. “I grew up telling myself I wanted to be nothing like my parents, and I was able to do that. So I brought my son up completely different.”
 

School was a bright spot. “I loved school.” He went on to take some night college classes, but his career started young and fast. At 18, he landed a role that put him in the middle of local emergencies. “I think I was the youngest dispatcher in the state of Massachusetts for police and fire.”

From that dispatch desk, Joe moved directly into the work he was helping coordinate. “I went from there to being a full‑time firefighter, and I went from there to being a full‑time police officer.” It was a demanding path, but one he stuck with through the years. Now retired, he looks back on a lifetime of public service.
 

Family life took a different shape than the one he knew as a child. Joe married young, at 19, after meeting his wife when she was in seventh grade and he was in eighth. “I knew it from the start,” he says. Her background helped reshape his own. “My wife came from a very loving family, which was something I did not come from. So it influenced me a lot.” Together they raised one son, building the kind of home Joe had always wanted.
 

As for how he’d like to be remembered, Joe’s wish is clear: “As honest and fair.”
 

“Be true to yourself.”
 

LYN

Born in New Bedford, Massachusetts, Lyn grew up surrounded by a lively, close-knit family. “Very outgoing and fun,” she recalls, reflecting on a childhood filled with warmth and simple joys. Summers were especially memorable, spent by the water at her grandfather’s home, where days on the beach became a cherished routine that shaped her love for creativity and calm.

 

She attended UMass Dartmouth, where she spent four years studying and met her husband—an encounter that would shape the course of her life. Though she was just three semesters away from completing a degree in visual design, Lyn chose to begin a new chapter, stepping into married life and a career. She went on to work in a hospital on the business side, building a steady and meaningful professional life.

 

While her career took her in a different direction, Lyn’s passion for art never disappeared. After retiring, she returned to painting, rediscovering a creative part of herself that had been waiting for decades. Today, her artwork continues to bring joy to others, from original paintings to handmade cards. “I kind of took a break for, like, 30 years,” she says, “and then I started painting again.”

 

Lyn describes her life not through one defining moment, but through a steady sense of contentment and balance. She speaks with appreciation for the path she’s taken and the choices that shaped it, grounded in creativity, hard work, and meaningful relationships.

 

“Study hard, think about what you want to do in life, and kind of aim in that direction. And don’t believe everything you read or see… just be careful of what’s out there.”

MONICA
Born in the north of England just before the Second World War, Monica grew up in a world shaped by resilience and change. With her father serving in the Royal Air Force in India during the war, she was raised primarily by women in a cotton mill town where “all the women had jobs.” It was an unusual time, she recalls, when women drove buses and ran factories while men were away at war. “I grew up in a world of women,” she says, remembering a childhood defined by strength and independence.
 

Monica attended grammar school after passing an exam at age 11, studying Latin and other subjects reserved for the “cleverest ones.” Though she didn’t go on to university, she completed secretarial college and began her working life with a strong sense of purpose. Sports played a major role in her youth—she cycled miles on her bike and joined a cycling club, where she met her husband, an English engineer. “We were young. We wanted to see the world,” she says of their decision to move to the United States shortly after marrying.
 

The couple settled in Needham, Massachusetts, in 1966, where Monica raised two children and built a life far from the England she once knew. Though they had planned to travel across the country to California, those plans never materialized, and Needham became their long-term home. Monica reflects on the era with emotion, particularly the Vietnam War, which deeply affected her perspective. “I saw how the Vietnam War affected young men who were drafted… they’d been through hell,” she says. The protests, the unrest, and the injustice of the draft left a lasting impression, shaping her views on war, government, and society.
 

Despite the challenges, Monica lived an active, meaningful life. She traveled, cycled across Europe, and nurtured close friendships. A talented artist in her own right, she finds fulfillment not in grand achievements, but in the quiet, memorable moments of kindness and connection. “I think I’d like to be remembered as a good friend,” she says. “A very active person who rode a bike over Italy, France, Spain… and she was not bad an artist, too.”
 

“If you want to travel the world, do it before you have children. Once you start having children, you’ve put roots down.”

PAUL
Born in Providence, Rhode Island, Paul grew up in a close-knit family with one sister, surrounded by the familiar rhythms of New England life. He attended local schools and found his stride in college, where he studied visual design—a field that would shape both his career and his creative identity. “I did much better in college. Once I kind of matured,” he says with a quiet laugh, reflecting on the focus and purpose that came with adulthood.
 

Paul began his professional journey working part-time for advertising agencies and art studios in the Providence area before landing a full-time role as an art director. Eventually, he took a leap of faith and started his own graphic design business, a move that marked a turning point in his life. “That was a change in my life,” he recalls. “It was kind of a chance I took, but I did it.” His career allowed him to blend creativity with strategy, and though he stepped away from painting for a time, his passion for art never faded.
 

After retiring, Paul returned to his roots, dedicating himself once again to painting. He now spends his days creating alongside a group of fellow artists, sharing ideas, techniques, and the occasional quiet moment of inspiration. “We’re all starving artists, but we’re okay,” he jokes, capturing the camaraderie and humility that define his creative circle.
 

Though he doesn’t have children, Paul stays connected to the world through technology and social media, which he appreciates more for research than for socializing. “It’s fine, but I don’t really use it for so much as talking with other people… I do more of research.”
 

When asked how he’d like to be remembered, Paul doesn’t point to trophies or titles. Instead, he speaks of connection, curiosity, and the joy of making art. He hopes to be seen as someone who enjoyed being with people, sharing experiences, and creating work that mattered—even in small ways.
 

“If they’re interested or not, just stay with it. Look at what other people do. Don’t be afraid to take criticism. Try to try new things.”