Jeremiah "Jd" Dennehy

Jeremiah Dennehy, age 57, of Danbury, passed away peacefully on Friday, February 28th 2020 at Smilow Hospital Yale-New Haven as the result of a long battle with an exceedingly rare and aggressive form of Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.

He is survived by his wife, Gina Garofalo Dennehy, and his three children, Gillian, J.P. and Gabrielle Dennehy. His five siblings, related in-laws, and many nieces and nephews — Timothy, Mary Beth and Christine Dennehy (Danbury, CT), Lori, Kevin, Kevin Jr., Brian, and Matthew Burns (Libertyville, IL), Mary, Stan, Amy, Heather and Dana Spielvogel (Danbury, CT), Edward and Ellen Dennehy (Alton, NH), and Kathleen and Andre Boucher (Southbury, CT).

Born at Danbury Hospital on January 26th 1963, Jeremiah, “JD” or “Jerry,” Dennehy grew up in Danbury and was the second youngest of six children to the late Lucille and Jeremiah Dennehy. Even at an early age, Jerry had marked passion and aptitude for athletics. A student at Saint Joe’s Elementary school, peers and educators alike could note Jerry’s presence in the way his curly mop of black hair slanted wildly while in bursting motion, or audible clops his quick feet generated off the schoolyard blacktop in the many recess races, whiffle- and kickball scrimmages, and rounds of ringalevio he partook in with a frequency apt to give new meaning to Springsteen’s “Born to Run” chorus—Jerry was a fan of The Boss.

Speedy, fierce, and fearless, Jerry’s youngest-of-three-boys status afforded him both an impassioned love for competitive play and a dedication to self-betterment—features often adopted by younger children born to big families. These aspects, coupled with both the positive, lighthearted attitude so emblematic of his character as well as his devotion to improving his already notable physical gifts, were the very factors contributing to Jerry’s success in high school and collegiate sports. He was an Immaculate High School graduate and varsity athlete of both the baseball and football teams — making WCC’s All Area Team in 1980. Jerry went on to play baseball at both Dean Junior College and Quinnipiac University.

And yet for all his dedication to athletics, the primary triumph of Jerry’s life was the role he assumed as a family man. It was his faith in God as well as his participation in organized sports that developed his love for teamwork and selfless play. He was an endearing son, brother, cousin, uncle, in-law — titles far too formal to depict his merits as a socialite. Expressed without formalities, rather, he was simply a friend to all. Yes, a brother, and yes, a sibling and son and god-father and funny uncle with a childlike inclination for roughhousing, one of the most contagious laughs you will ever encounter, and a glimmer in his eye that indicated, while in the company of others, Jerry had discovered definitive proof of heaven on earth in the form of togetherness. Yet his connection to others— even those not united by genetic or martial ties—can be best summed up by the fact that for him all relations were as much friendships as they were designations of proximity. His presence lit up classrooms and locker rooms and entire ball fields. He was a man who radiated his love for communities, both large and small, like few can. One need only spend a few minutes in his company and have no doubt about it.

Beyond these traits, or perhaps as an extension of them, the mantle Jerry assumed as family man found a greater expression through the work he did as a youth sports coach for all of his children. Attendant, instructive, compassionate, given at times to an irreverent comment or two, spoken not without the greatest of intentions, Jerry was as driven a coach as he was an athlete. He coached every child he met, no matter how talented or appreciative or invested, as if they were part of his own immediate family. Hours of tossing or passing baseballs, soccer balls, and lacrosse balls attest to this. The sweat that came to cover many of his coaching caps attest to this. The hours he spent driving to and from sports tournaments all over the region, the early morning departures and late night arrivals, the endless string encouragements his voice unraveled, one after the other, all attest to this. Even when his children no longer played organized sports, Jerry sought a secondary home at the ball fields of Rogers Park, site of Danbury Youth Baseball. A licensed accountant, he donated hours of his life to overseeing the organization’s financial operations. He sat in at numerous board meetings. He cooked and served food out of the concession stand. He walked the fields, befriended the coaches, gleefully harassed the umpires, as many a former coach will do, with the vigor and humor of a ringleader lining up acts for the show. Vibrant, vocal, he was never at a loss for quips or retorts. He was never afraid of speaking his mind. With Jerry there was never a dull moment.

It was during this break from coaching his own children that Jerry developed another life passion: that of—of all things—Bikram Yoga. He began in 2005 with his wife, Gina. In addition, this hyper masculine, over-excitable funnyman with an extraordinary athletic resume and a crass habit of joking in moments of severe discomfort was immediately humbled. His body, a body that he had for the majority of life commanded in ways far more rigorous than the average person might, encountered the impediment of inner self-possession. Because here was stillness and the economy of breath; here was controlled focus and contemplation, the mind emptying itself of extraneous matter; here was Jerry’s consultation with a subtle language of the body otherwise unrecognized: a strenuous but peaceful language of silence and sweat that he dedicated himself to for, should you believe it, another fifteen years. As was the case with Jerry in practically all social environments, he came to know and love his fellow yogis. Relations took on a reciprocal dynamic, Jerry’s vocality brought out the best in others while others showed Jerry the value of occasional self-restraint. And yet, he developed some of the best friendships he would ever have in that yoga studio.

There are so many mental places for those who knew Jerry to go back and remember his presence. There are so many opportunities to recall him, smile and think, I can’t believe he just said that, and, equally cherish the fact that Jerry was not the sort of man who minced words. Never. He was a child at heart, curious and beaming, hurrying to make friends of strangers for the next pick-up game. Everything he said or did was done so out of an incredible need to create, maintain, and eventually celebrate human connection. Everything he strove for reflected his love for others. If you knew him well, you might consider yourself lucky. If he knew you well, it would be just as accurate for you to consider yourself loved.

Jerry was gainfully employed as a local corporate accountant for over thirty years. He was hard working and very dedicated to his job.

All in all, honor his life and legacy with good thoughts and charitable actions. At the end of the day, in moments of hesitation, ask yourself, what would Jerry do, and then, perhaps, dial it down a notch. God knows Jerry would not. That is why we loved him so and cherish our time and memories with him.

The family wants to thank all the Doctors, nurses & care givers at Smilow at Yale for their efforts. Especially, Dr Huntington who was a big part of Jerry's hard fought journey.

A Mass of Christian Burial will be celebrated at 10:00am on Thursday, March 5, 2020 at St. Joseph’s Church, 8 Robinson Avenue, Danbury. Burial will follow at St. Peter’s Cemetery.

The family will receive friends from 3:30pm to 7:00pn on Wednesday, March 4, 2020 at the Green Funeral Home, 57 Main St., Danbury.

In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions can be made to Danbury Youth Baseball (DYB) (www.danburyyouthbaseball.com) or the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society- CT Chapter, 3 Landmark Sq., #330, Stamford, CT 06901.

For further information or to express your condolences on line, go to www.thegreenfuneralhome.com