My Brother Greg

by Brendan Smith
Weirs Times Editor

On Saturday, August 1st, my brother Greg passed away suddenly from a heart attack.
He was only 72.
It was a terrible shock, a feeling I had never experienced. I had never lost a sibling before and now I understood the feelings of others I know who have lost a brother or sister.
Greg was the oldest of us six kids. I have two other older brothers as well as two younger sisters.
With a bit of prejudice, I will say that Greg was probably the smartest guy I ever knew. Some people know a little about a lot of things, Greg knew a lot about a lot of things. A voracious reader who never just focused on one side of an issue, he examined all sides and would often provide new viewpoints and observations on current events that I never considered before.
He did not instantly accept something as the truth merely because it aligned with a comfortable line of thinking. Something we all do too easily nowadays.
He was in the financial and banking business for years. Involved in many complicated aspects of money and how it works, it came easy to him.
At a Celebration of his life this past weekend, colleagues of Greg’s spoke of how much they learned from him as well as how he used humor and straightforward advice as tools.
One colleague told the story of how, when he first met Greg, he was confused as Greg had the nameplate “F. Blair Nevers” on his desk. Greg explained he found the old nameplate, liked the name and decided to keep it.
One constant theme from others who knew Greg was that, when they agonized over a decision, Greg’s advice was “Just go ahead and do it. Don’t waste time thinking about it”.
This usually turned out to be the correct decision.
I also learned that Greg, now in his early seventies, still with a foot in the financial field, also took a job at a local supermarket near where he lived in Falmouth, Maine. He liked to keep busy.
I was told that Greg worked in the produce department and would bet others he worked with (not for money) what items would sell the most on that particular day. I have to assume his picks were made by careful calculations and that he enjoyed this latest endeavor.
Being eight years older than me, I never really knew Greg very well when I was a kid. My earliest memories were Greg putting on his uniform every morning to take the train and subway from Long Island, NY into Manhattan to attend Xavier High School, a military academy.
At a party in New Jersey in 1965, when he was 17, Greg met his future wife Peggy who often tells the story: “When I saw him that day I told my friend that ‘I’m going to marry that guy.’”
They married in 1970, had five children and in March celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary. The loss Peggy feels today is unimaginable to me.
It wasn’t until I was in high school that I truly formed a bond with my oldest brother. I visited him and Peggy in their apartment in Boston several times and later in their home in Arlington, Massachusetts. Eventually I went to college in Milton, Mass and visited them often on weekends. A few years later, in the midst of my own transition in life, I lived with them for a year as I worked in Boston.
Greg inspired me with his knowledge and the previously mentioned process of never taking anything at face value no matter how much it reinforced your own beliefs. He turned me on to great books to fuel my own desire to read and learn. More importantly, he had a terrific sense of humor, finding the absurdity in most anything. It is a trait I sharpened while being with him and it shows up most every week right here on this page.
Greg and Peggy moved their family from Massachusetts to Maine years ago. As I grew and moved on with my life, I never visited Greg much over the years. Still, every time we got together it was like we had only seen each other a few days before.
At his Celebration, his son told me that while going through Greg’s bureau, he had found a pile of clippings of some of my columns that he had kept over the years. That moment made all these years of writing this column worth it.
I could write pages of stories about Greg, but there is only so much space.
I even agonized if I should write this column about Greg, as there would be so much that I would have to leave out and not really do justice in telling his story.
As I sat and thought about it, the words “Just Go Ahead And Do It And Don’t Waste Time Thinking About It” echoed in my mind.
So here it is.
I will miss my brother; he was a big part of my life.
I wish he was able to read this column.