Saying Good-Bye to ​‘Mr. Branford’

With stories personal and political, witty and charming, Danny Cosgrove was remembered yesterday for his style and grace and doing things his way. He died earlier this week at the age of 98.

Scores of family, friends, politicians, local and state attended a Mass of Christian Burial at St. Mary Catholic Church Friday where Cosgrove worshipped all his life and where he was praised for his generosity, especially his financial help in restoring the church school.

Many told their stories.

There was talk of ​“The Garage,” on North Main Street, where Cosgrove ran his empire. Indeed, the incense filled St. Mary’s Church the way Dan Cosgrove’s cigar smoke filled the garage or any place he happened to be. He was never without his cigar or his dog or dogs as they may be. There was even a monkey.

A Pastor Reflects

Monsignor David Walker, pastor of St. Therese’s Church, pointed out all of Cosgrove’s attributes in his homily, which he began with a nod to Bob Hope: ​“Thanks for the memories.” He said that all of us have memories. He shared one in particular in which he asked Cosgrove, ​“Why don’t you and I box?” He was referring to Cosgrove’s early days as a welterweight boxer, when he won 31 of his 34 fights between 1934 and 1937. Cosgrove declined.

Walker said Cosgrove’s priorities were politics, business, family, and faith. He observed that Cosgrove was a person of deep faith, but he did not wear his faith on his sleeve. Walker described Cosgrove as ​“Mr. Branford,” adding, ​“Church, God, and people meant so much to him.”

Dan Jr. Remembers

His son, Dan Cosgrove, Jr., the father of First Selectman Jamie Cosgrove, who served as a pallbearer, reminded folks of one of his father’s famous qualities: Impatience.

He told the story of dining out as kids at Howard Johnson’s on Branford Hill and after placing their order, wondering why it took so long. ​“Where is the food? Where is the staff? What’s taking so long,” he said describing his Dad’s response. Then he went searching for the kitchen.

He said everyone knew of his love of dogs. He would often pick up stray dogs, wherever he saw them, thinking they were actually strays. ​“Then people would call the house, saying ​“my dog is missing.” That line elicited a burst of laughter from the audience. He also had cars for his dogs because they shed a lot, one of his friends later told us. His love of animals helped fund the town’s animal shelter, which later was named the Dan Cosgrove Animal Shelter.

One day he said his Dad came home with a monkey, a monkey he described as ​“cantankerous and revengeful.”

“He was a leader,” said Cosgrove, adding that when things didn’t go as his father expected, he would say, ​“You see what happens when they think for themselves?”

Cosgrove thanked his family, Hospice, and longtime physician Dr. Harold Levy before concluding with a quip from his father after he would give a speech: ​“Thank you for the use of the hall.”

“Thank you for the use of the church,” said Cosgrove’s oldest son.

Cosgrove was a Hospice pioneer and donated the land for the original facility on Burban Drive, which was the first Hospice in America, planting the ​“tree of life” with his son, Mark. A team of Hospice nurses provided care for him at the end of his life and CEO Rosemary J. Hurzeler, the final speaker, shared her experiences.

His life was an arch of two centuries, she said, having ​“one foot planted in each,” she said. She described him as an ​“elegant and eloquent man… one who shaped the fabric and strength of the community.” He was,” she said, ​“an intrepid explorer.”

Bill Donohue came to the funeral of his friend. He had met Cosgrove when he was the director of the New Haven Redevelopment Authority and Cosgrove was in the contracting business. Their friendship lasted for 35 years. They would meet every Thursday for dinner, often at the Branford Townhouse restauran. He remembers many stories, but mostly, he remembers the man, of how giving Cosgrove was to people in need. ​“He knew himself and he got a lot out of life. He was so giving to people. That’s what I remember. The town was lucky to have him.”

The extent of Cosgrove’s influence on the Catholic church was seen in the presence of six priests: Fr. Christopher Ford, former pastor at St. Mary’s; Msr. David Walker, pastor of St. Therese’s Church, who gave the homily; Fr. George Couturier, current pastor at St. Mary’s; and Fr. Brendan Cooney, who was visiting from Ireland. The traditional Catholic Mass included readings by Cosgrove’s great-grandchildren and musical selections that Cosgrove would have surely appreciated.

Father Ford Remembers

Even as the service was ending and the final blessing was given, Fr. Christopher Ford, who was the celebrant, paused and shared his own story of the time he first went out to lunch with Cosgrove, which turned out to be a six-hour event. He said he learned a lesson: Next time, he knew to take his own car.

He was told later, he was one of the few people to get a word in. But Cosgrove had the ability to pick up after his last thought without missing a beat.

“He was a Renaissance man,” Ford said.

Maybe The Bosses Weren’t So Bad

After the service, state and local dignitaries such as state Comptroller Kevin Lembo, former state Sen. Ed Meyer, and state Rep. Lonnie Reed (D‑Branford) milled around and shared their memories.

Reed knew Cosgrove well. ​“He was an old-school, get it done guy. He told me once that so many of the meetings were in the garage of the Cosgrove Company. ​‘Hey, you want something fixed, bring it over to the garage and we’ll work on it.’ So it was like that. That was the sense of respect that his whole generation of politicians had. We will get it done. Stop with the nonsense. You wonder what would be happening today if the bosses were in charge….” 

We asked Lembo what Dan Cosgrove would think about the state’s current massive budget problem.

“I think he would probably wonder why they all can’t just get in a room together and figure it out. At the end of the day, sometimes a beer and a little bit of relationship building go a long way” Lembo said.

Meyer turned around. ​“Let me tell you what Danny said to me in in 2004 when I was running for state senate. I was running against Bill Aniskovich (who happened to be standing nearby but not in earshot). The first time I met Danny he looked me in the eye and he said I am not going to agree with any of your positions but I am going to help you. And he then gave me a check for $500. 

“Later, I brought him up to Hartford and we spent a day in the capitol together and he just loved it.”

Marcia Chambers contributed reporting for this story.

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