Andrew Ernest Simoni

Andrew Ernest Simoni, 94, business owner, musician, world traveler, astronomer and horticulturalist, passed away on March 31 in Dallas, Texas, after a long, accomplished and vital life and a brief recent illness.

Andrew was born in Wellesley, Massachusetts, on November 7, 1918, and was the eldest of ten children. His family moved to the Boston area and established Simonis Flowers, and Andrew over his entire career was instrumental in its long-term growth and reputation as a leading floral provider in retail and commercial lines.

Shortly after World War II, while traveling in France, Andrew met and fell in love with Norma Mundell of Middlesbrough England. They married on January 31, 1952, and were together for 55 years until her passing in November 2007.

Despite the long hours and daily demands of the prominent family business, Andrew engaged in many interests and hobbies. With Norma, he joined the North American Lily Society, in 1955, and over many years served as director, and chaired several committees. He hybridized his own lilies and is recognized for his achievements in trade journals.

As a young man, Andrew met Russell Porter, explorer, engineer and founder of amateur telescope making, which led to a lifetime membership and engagement with Stellafane, an astronomy organization in Springfield, Vermont.

He studied bassoon with the Boston Symphony and performed classical pieces at the small symphony level, and he also made his own Italian wine. He was a longtime member of Ancient and Honorable Artillery Company of Massachusetts

An avid traveler, Andrew journeyed to many exotic locales including Bhutan, China, France, New Zealand, Australia, Machu Picchu, South Georgia and the Galapagos. In his 80s, he viewed the Nazca Lines in Peru from a small aircraft, and at 91, he was believed to be the oldest man to visit the Antarctic Continent.

Andrew is survived by son, Steven A. Simoni, of Dallas, TX, and Hog Island off Bristol, RI, and his wife Terri, and was very proud of granddaughters Diane Simoni of Dallas, and Stephanie Simoni of New Haven, CT. His sister, Marge Simoni, of Norwood, MA, and many dear family members and good friends from around the world will miss him. Son Neil E. Simoni, of Medfield, MA, and grandchildren Ian, Elsbeth and Andrea Simoni, also survive him.

Services of Andrew E. Simoni will be held in Dallas, Texas, and in Westwood, Massachusetts. Visitation will be held Tuesday, April 2, 2013 3:00 to 4:00 p.m. at Sparkman Hillcrest Funeral Home with funeral service immediately following at 4:00 p.m. Visitation in Westwood will be held at Holden, Dunn, and Lawler Funeral Thursday, April 4, 2013 4:00 p.m. to 8:00 p.m. Funeral service will be 10:00 a.m. Friday, April 5, 2013 at First Parish of Westwood with burial following.

In lieu of flowers, donations may be given to The Andrew and Norma Simoni Scholarship Fund, c/o Attorney James Brady, 1068 Main St. Walpole, MA 02081.

Andrew Simoni, his life through a son’s eyes

When we read Andrew’s obituary, we see that my dad lead a full life with various interests....horticulturist, astronomer, adventurer, musician, student of ancient civilation, and lover of life. I was privileged to have had the time and energy to share many of these interests with him. Dad never stopped learning or reading. The only regret dad ever expressed to me was that as the oldest of ten children growing up in the Great Depression, his parents would not allow him to go to college. He was needed on the farm. In his life, Dad compensated by taking night courses to learn Italian, playing the clarinet and bassoon, driving annually to Vermont to build his own telecope, hybridizing crocus and lilies. He never stopped learning even very late in his life.

Though these interests and achievements are impressive, they do not offer the insight that I had the privilege to know about my dad’s values and ethics in life....his personal code and guiding principles. They were no vices that I ever saw in Dad’s life. And he expected those around him to adhere to these same principals.

Work

Dad’s belief was that a good measure of a man was how hard he worked and he never stopped working. He worked at the garden center well into his seventies still rising at 4 a.m. on weekdays, and 6 a.m. on weekends. In the years at Simonis Flowers, he and I worked all day, seven day weeks side by side, and it was physically demanding. Everyone in our community recognized that dad was a hard working man. One rare occassion when dad left the garden center with his high school friend Frank Carducci (God bless his soul), they stopped to see another classmates, Walter Dempsey, in his insurance office in Norwood center. Walter, who knew both well said, “What a surprise to have a visit from the hardest working member of our class visiting and the laziest member of our class.”

Because of Andrew to this day, I try to work hard and enjoy often that satifaction that comes with doing a good job.

Another of Andrew’s credos, was “do the best job at everything you do”. Never cut corners or take shortcuts. Quality always. He would go so far to say to use, “Sometimes, your best was not good enough”. On a good day, he phrase was “you do good work, just not enough of it”. He was a tough taskmaster for a growing child and did not often offer praise for what he considered expected behavior.

Dad also taught me to “do the right thing” always. From him, I learned that in those times when it is hardest to do “the right thing,” that is when we need to find the power to stand ever straighter and stronger. I thought of my dad when I heard a line from the movie “Scent of a Woman.” You may recall Al Pacino’s character confesses that during his life whenever he had an ethical decision to make, he knew without exception the road to take. But he never did...because it was too darn hard. It was never too hard for Andrew. I wonder whether he even knew there was a fork in the road, any choice to be made. For him, there was just one path, the right path. The fact that it may have been a difficult path was almost irrelevant to him.

Dad had no tolerance for laziness, slovenly work, or slackers, but he would hire anyone who was willing to work. Back in the 40s and 50s this was not a widely accepted practice in the business world. In his eyes, the measure of a man was how hard he worked and if a man kept his word - with no regard for that man’s appearance or beliefs. He was very much an egalitarian.

Honesty, Dad’s reputation as a man of honesty, with everyone who knew him was that he did what he said. His life had very few written contracts in it. Those who knew and did business with him never needed a contract. I was often impressed and even amazed by the respect he has from his business colleagues.

While dad left his affiliation with formal religion when I was in my teens, he still held his conduct to a very devout and righteous standard. Unlike his son, that would be me, I never ever heard him take the Lords name in vain or use, as he would say, “those dirty words.” He never told off color jokes. As a young boy, I heard him tell my Mom, his most racy joke. Get ready.

Two single old men - Bob and Joe - were sitting on a park bench lamenting their state of their marriage late in life.

Bob asks “Joe how often do you have sex”

Joe responds “Infrequently”

Bobs thinks for a minute - and dad’s eyes would twinkle - and asks “Is that one word or two.”

Andrew loved life and abhorred violence, war and death. He was a conscientous objector during World War II, and took a lot of criticism for his stand. He followed his belief and knew no other way. He often was personally distressed when he heard of the death penalty being imposed, and felt that the state had no right to take a life. I saw him as a peacemaker in his time.

Dad had a strong sense of family values. Mom and dad were married for over 50 years....50 faithful years. Without a formal education he provided a loving and comfortable home for he and his family. He and my mother Norma sacrificed to ensure their children got the very best education possible. I was privileged to attend the Roxbury Latin School and MIT.

Dad loved to travel, to seek adventure and to see the world. In my life, I tried to help him reach some of his unique destinations. My dad was fascinated the accomplishments of ancient civilizations. One of his desires was to fly over the Nazca lines in the Peruvian desert.

It took three days to get there in what was not an easy journey and Dad was 88 at the time. Thank goodness that Stephanie, my daughter, was there to help. Once there one can arrange for a fee to charter a small plane, and I use the word “plane” loosely for what was an ancient metal bucket with holes and doors that would not shut. Well, we got Dad into the front seat and took off. Fear of crashing on take off was soon replaced with the wonder and awesome sights below.

We were entralled by the beauty of the lines created over a thousand years ago, the precise slight depressions in the sand depicting multiple giant images visable only from over vantage point above the desert. We could clearly see a gianter rooster, giant animals and one that looked very much like a 50 foot tall Russian cosmonaut. We also could see straight lines running for miles that looked surprising like landing strips. None of this was visible from the ground.

After landing and dusting ourselves off, my dad took me aside and said “Steven, thank you so much for this trip. I never thought I would get to see these lines in my lifetime. You have been a good son for me.” I cry and rejoice every time I remember this trip and that I could share this adventure with that special man who could not go to college and who yearned for this kind of learning and adventure.

Through the way he lived his life, dad’s paradigm of life and living was instrumental in my upbringing. Andrew was my dad, my mentor, and later in life my best friend. I am grateful to have lived life with him. Dad is one tough act to follow. I already miss him dearly.