Requiem for a Dad
Harold Eugene “Gene” Anderson left this earth on March 20, 2021 in Clearwater, Florida, with his beloved wife of forty years Rita by his side. He was 89 very well-lived years old.
Gene and his sister grew up in a succession of northeastern states with a strong mom who defied the often rigid societal rules of the time and her Church of England upbringing to always find a path forward while never letting anyone keep her down. His early days in Atlantic City read like a “Boardwalk Empire” sub-plot. Which in ways it was. A happy, mischievous kid who loved the Jersey shore and running around the boardwalk, but also one who ended up with a seat at the table among gangsters and their lawyer who ruled the town.
Gene transitioned to boarding school and college in Massachusetts, where he became adept at the type of endearing social skills that would help him advance throughout his life, whether in the classroom or the conference room. His post-college domestic life outside Hartford, Connecticut quickly led to a stark adult realization: New England winters can wear on one’s soul as much as they do the house paint. So cue the now classic snowbird conundrum: Stay, and in historically stoic fashion deal with it? Or take the family and flee that frigid annual routine for a warmer future?
The decision was pretty easy, but what came next wasn’t. In a relatively uncharacteristic move, Gene chose Jamaica as the next landing spot for his family. But he soon learned that the political climate of the time made it not as ideal a move as he once thought. So he pivoted and settled in a place where he’d spend the next 50 years, and in the process become as much an area regular as the tides. From Tampa to Clearwater Beach, St. Pete to Pass-A-Grille, Gene embraced this part of Florida as much as it did him.
While he was born in a country that worships work, what Gene did to earn a salary matters far less that what he was as a person and brought to everyone else. Which is not to diminish his distinguished career in entrepreneurial retail and sales. It took him from his own menswear shop in Connecticut to a department store buyer for Maas Brothers to a life-changing role at GTE leading the business communication transition from landlines to cell phones. But part of that success came from being the relentlessly positive presence that he always was, which in ways both metaphorical and literal reflected the Florida sunshine that blessed him on a daily basis.
That side of his personality was true and effortless, as he was a man who always avoided over-complication. Patience with needless annoyance was never his virtue. The flashy allure of material excess never seduced him. In fact, he didn’t need much at all to be happy. A plateful of pasta with loads of garlic. A properly unfussy martini at cocktail hour. The back-and-forth battle of a Buccaneers game. A day at the beach or cruising the coast with his T-bird roadster top down. The love of his wife and his cats. Watching his kids grow, move around the country and the world and find themselves as adults. An enduring affection for trips back to New York City at Christmas time. Simple pleasures, really, that in retrospect can teach us a lot about what really matters most while we’re alive to appreciate it all.
But for now, we grieve his loss as we celebrate his life. Gene is survived by Rita, his sister Maryland in Melbourne, Australia, his daughter Ashley and granddaughters Maddie and Harper in San Diego, California and his son Brent, daughter-in-law Wendy and grandsons Eamonn and Gabriel in Kansas City, Missouri.
