Remembering Briggs Geddis: Life of Longtime New Canaan Environmental Health Director Celebrated at Waveny

[Editor’s Note: Each photoin the slideshow above is from a collection that was on view during the Aug. 7, 2014 celebration by family and friends of the life of Briggs Geddis, held in the Great Hall at Waveny House.]

Here’s what young Ashley Brower, granddaughter of the late Briggs Geddis, wrote about a man that many New Canaanites know as the town’s longtime director of environmental health:

“My grandpa who I call Bop-Bop had a nickname for a lot of people. My mom’s nicknames were Abby-Gabby-Gooey and Mrs. Bang, because she slammed doors a lot. My uncle’s names were Briggy-Wiggy and Wig. My names were Pipsqueak and Scallywag. Bop-Bop is definitely one of the kindest people I know and I miss him a lot. I love you, Bop-Bop.”

The note was read aloud before more than 150 relatives, friends and colleagues of Geddis who crowded Thursday afternoon into the Great Hall at Waveny House to celebrate his life and offer support to his survivors.

Geddis died July 15. He was 76.

Industrious, wickedly funny and self-effacing, Geddis was remembered for his fierce devotion to family, endless ability to repair things not functioning and an enduring, can-do approach to challenges that evinced itself in scores of ways in his own life and which he bestowed on those close to him.

His wife of 47 years, Kristin—whom Geddis had met as a senior (she a freshman) while earning his bachelor’s degree in biology from Atlantic Union College—remembered her husband as a beloved teacher, eager outdoorsman and man of deep spirituality who found his true calling in working for the town of New Canaan. He held his position in environmental health for 38 years and through it “developed so many strong and lasting friendships that would endure for the remainder of his life,” she said.

It was a life cut short following a steep decline starting in February, two months after a surgery for a brain tumor that had been discovered last June, Kristin Geddis recalled.

“I will always be amazed by the grace with which Briggs accepted the terrible decline he was experiencing,” she said during the celebration of Geddis’ life. “Of course, from the beginning he went through the agony that anyone would when you’re told that you have a terminal illness. As time went by and he began losing the things that help us connect—memory, language, losing the sight in his eye—he never complained. But instead he developed the most amazingly intense appreciation for simple, little things. He loved the taste of food. He loved being out in the sunshine. At one hospital they asked us to write down three things that helped him. So we wrote down: ‘Massage, music and chocolate.’ What could be better than that?”

A native of Morristown, N.J. and resident of Ridgefield, Geddis is survived by Kristin; daughters Gabrielle Griffin and Abigail Brower and son Briggs; seven grandchildren; his brother Robert; and two sisters, Jayne Molleck and Joyce Burnette. An obituary may be read here and donations in his memory may be made here, to the Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center.

Those gathered—including many municipal workers—watched a slideshow tribute to Geddis on a projector screen in the Great Hall. There, scenes from Geddis’ life flashed by, from photos of him as a baby and youth, including a yellowed newspaper clipping of Geddis the boy who rescued and befriended a robin, to wedding photos and then scores of scenes with Geddis and his children and grandchildren, often laughing and several from a lakeside cabin in Maine—a steady vacation destination for the whole family.

During tributes to the deceased from his children, each read aloud by his eldest, Gabrielle, Geddis was remembered as a seemingly invincible, brilliant father who had a knack for finding the right words to lift up a loved one in need. Here are some excerpts from each tribute.

From daughter Gabrielle: You taught me to measure the value of honesty and that loyalty builds trust. You taught me that the most important things in this world are people and not possessions and that helping other people also means not taking credit for it. You taught me the value of hard work and that no task is too humble or demeaning. You taught me to give me children everything that they need, most of what they want and that if there is anything left over, to share what I have. You taught me to stand up for myself without ever being a bully. You taught me to love all creatures and appreciate the wondrous miracles of nature … Dad, you always provided comfort when I was sick, reassuring me that I would completely recover. In fact, you were a bit of a medical miracle while I was growing up, because there was no illness or condition that I had that you hadn’t experienced with the exception that your illness was much worse than anything that I was going through. With the wave of your hand, you’d say ‘Don’t worry, I’ve had that’—and those five words would bring me tremendous comfort.

From daughter Abigail: He had an awesome ability to fix nearly anything and I think we were always proud that we had a dad who could figure anything out. Occasionally you would hear a tool being thrown or the telltale sign of things not going right, when you heard ‘Oh nuts’—this is when we would all look at mom and shake our heads, but sure enough, given enough time, dad would indeed have everything figured out and back in working order … I always pictured that my dad would live forever or at least to a very ripe old age. He was so strong, so invincible and so tough. Unfortunately this was not the case, and although he fought a hard battle, he told me many times not to worry, that he was going to fight this. In the end, the cancer would take his life. A few weeks before he died, I remember calling home very upset, knowing that his days were very limited. I told him how much I loved him and to hang in there. I asked him how he was feeling and, bless his heart, he weakly and softly muttered, ‘I am OK.’

From son Briggs: His own needs and desire often seemed to be the farthest things from his mind … We would descend into the otherworldly depths of his basement workshop, surrounded by an immense array of tools of every shape and size, and I would stand at his back and observe him as he was engaged in a project, moving methodically from one tool to another, with the grace of a surgeon at the height of his craft. He was the quintessential man’s man, yet there was a distinct diversity to his nature. He seemed to defy categories. He was equally at home covered in mud from head to toe while digging a trench as he was strolling through a contemporary art gallery. From lying on his back under a car to losing himself at a Tchaikovsky ballet, his interests were many, and eclectic … It wasn’t long ago that he set the goal of biking every road in New Canaan. Each lunch hour, he would spend traversing a new section of road, which he would then document in red ink on town map. In a few short months, he’d have realized his goal.

New Canaan resident Keith Simpson, a longtime friend of Geddis whose work intersected with that of the deceased, said he appreciated deeply that the family was sharing a personal side of Geddis’ life and that it was thrilling to hear about it first hand.

“And also we want to thank Kristin, especially, for taking care of Briggs through his final challenging year of life, because that was a tough assignment, and she was doing that for all of us, I think,” Simpson said.

Geddis was well-known to, and respected by, multiple “subsections” of New Canaanites—from town workers to any resident with a well or septic system, to local businesses certified by the state health department (such as food establishments and salons), to the public schools and anyone organizing a community event.

Speaking on behalf of the town, Selectman Beth Jones said that First Selectman Rob Mallozzi was unable to attend and sends his regrets.

“On behalf of the town we just want to thank you so much for sharing your husband and your father with us,” Jones said. “We loved him, too, and he will be greatly missed.”

One of Geddis’ enduring friends—Milton Damazo, a pal since high school at South Lancaster Academy in Massachusetts—said that Geddis introduced him to his first wife and, after she had passed, that he married a woman also introduced to him by his friend.

“Briggs is a quality person,” Damazo said. “I’ve never seen anybody like him—through the years, the ups that he has been through and the downs that he has been involved with, he has just been a stalwart, a strong person. I love him. I miss him. We all do.”