Obituary of Albert Russo

Albert N. Russo, a resident of Woburn and formerly of Arlington, passed away unexpectedly on February 4, 2010. Lifelong love of Audrey E. Cogswell, he was 51 years old. Al was raised in Arlington, MA the 2nd of seven children of Richard F. and the late Sara E. (Monahan) Russo. Al had 4 sisters, Sara J. (Martin), Elizabeth A. (Dimitri), Carolyn M., and Andrea E. (Desrochers) and two brothers, John and Richard. Al is survived by a large extended family of aunts, uncles, and cousins. Al was a favorite uncle of his many nieces and nephews. Al had a great sense of humor, an unflappable demeanor, and appreciated a good practical joke. Although always the quiet one, he had an amazing number of friends. He often traveled with family and friends of which there are many fond memories. Al was always willing to offer a helping hand whether the need be small or great. He was a graduate of Arlington Catholic High School. He went on to further his education graduating from the University of Massachusetts, Boston. He kept in touch with many of his friends from his high school years. Al was employed at the former Lechmere Sales in Cambridge and had an affinity for sales and working with customers. From the first days of stereo systems, Al continued to develop his incredible intuition and skills in home electronics. In addition to installing home music and theatre systems, Al could put almost any device that used electricity onto a remote control. He continued this legacy and worked for Paul’s TV and the former Tweeter Etc. In addition to home electronics, Al enjoyed golfing, woodworking and a good card game. Family Remembrance - Greg McGowan Al will be lovingly remembered by his family and friends. Al was the lifelong love of Audrey E. Cogswell. He was the loving son of Richard F. and the late Sara. E. (Monahan) Russo of Arlington. He is survived by his 6 brothers and sisters. Visiting hours will be held at the Edward V. Sullivan Funeral Home, 43 Winn St., BURLINGTON (Exit 34 off Rt. 128, Woburn side) on Monday Feb 8th from 4-8 p.m. Funeral from the Edward V. Sullivan Funeral Home on Tuesday, February 9th at 9 a.m. followed by a Mass of Christian Burial in St. Margaret’s Church, 111 Winn St.,, Burlington at 10 a.m. Interment will be private. Memorials in Al’s memory may be made to the American Cancer Society, 30 Speen St., Framingham, MA 01701 Al Russo was not a man of many words. Those of us that knew him well understood that while he didn’t say much, he also didn’t miss much. He was one of the most observant people I have ever known. Al used the energy most of us expend talking… to watch, observe, and take information in. He had a magical talent for showing up just when you needed him most. In fact, many of Audrey’s family warmly refer to Al as “Billy Jack” like the character in the movie of the same name. Like Billy Jack, Al had an uncanny ability to appear out of nowhere just when you needed him. In reflection, it probably wasn’t magic as much as his commitment to being there for the people around him. He had a presence that was never self-promoting, always calm, unpretentious, and always dependable. We relied on him! The only time I was able to get him flustered (he always kept an even keel so it was a quite a challenge for me) was when we were in Las Vegas. The girls and Al and I were out all day and when we got back to the hotel the girls decided they were going to bed. I looked at Al and of course he didn’t say anything but I think his mouth might have curled ever so slightly- that meant “Yes, Greg I would love to have a nightcap”. We sat at some Café tables and I went up to the bar to get us drinks. Well being that it was Las Vegas, there was a lady at the bar and after some discussion I realized she was a “working lady”. After declining her kind offer for “company”, I asked her if she wouldn’t mind bringing the drinks over to my friend. Knowing it was all harmless, she saw right away where I was going with it and proceeded to sit with, and engage Al in conversation. The look of him looking over her shoulder and shaking his head at me was priceless. It was the only time I ever successfully unnerved my friend. Al was seldom unnerved; he was always modest, and rarely judged. Al had a special way with kids. Maybe because he did so little talking, he was able to listen, REALLY listen when kids talked. He made them feel special. Like what they had to say REALLY mattered because he listened so intently to their words. He engaged them in conversation and asked them poignant questions. I wish I could apply that skill in 1/10 of my daily life. I wonder how much smarter I would be. I wonder how much happier my kids would be. Animals too loved Al! Here is my impression of Al calling my dog………… (Almost imperceptible nod of the head)…The dog still came! Audrey and Al’s relationship transcended the confines of a traditional marriage. They had a baseline of non-verbal communication that was so fine-tuned that a raise of an eyebrow or the hint of a smile could pass as a 15-minute conversation. They were uniquely suited to each other. Soul- mates if you will. Our thoughts and prayers are with Audrey today, her family, and with Al’s family, as they will be in the days to come. For a guy who made so little noise, he sure knew how to bring the sound of music into our lives and our homes. He has wired every inch of our home, and I am sure the homes of many of you as well. We have music in the living room. Music on the back porch. Music in the pool house. We even have music coming from the rocks around our pool! He had an honest appreciation for good sound; especially when it came through Dolby surround sound speakers attached to a 52” hi-def TV. I have a funny memory of being at one end of the house watching TV with the kids when I heard noises from the living room at the other end of the house. Knowing that my wife was not at home, I naturally went to investigate. There was Al, feet sticking out from under the entertainment center, body immersed inside the hutch wiring something. I said “Hi Al, didn’t know you were here” and he simply said “I didn’t want to bother you as you were watching TV with the kids; Just wanted to fix something.” Apparently a few days earlier, he noticed one of the channels on the stereo wasn’t working right. I hadn’t noticed, but Al did… and what a difference it made. That was Al. When we lose someone we love suddenly, our minds immediately go to sad thoughts of wasted moments and lost opportunities. I should have called him last week…we never did get together that time…did he know how much we loved him…did we tell him enough…show him enough? In reality, we need to force our minds to moments well-shared and opportunities maximized. These are the memories that will forever hold Al Russo’s place in our hearts and in our lives. Instead we remember phenomenal trips to the Grand Cayman islands and Las Vegas. We think about the many Waterville Valley weekends filled with bike rides, scrabble games, golf, and if you are Al and I, “late night walkabouts”. His intellect, his humor. What a wonderful family member, loved one, partner and friend. Maybe Al Russo’s legacy is in the lessons he so unassumingly lived for us… if we can quiet ourselves long enough to hear them: Talk less. Listen more. Observe people and situations so you know when to step up. Al always stepped up. He was there when we needed him. His humble presence will be sorely missed by us all.