To the editor:
Within a matter of days, Danvers and the region have lost two good friends: T. Frank Tyrrell Jr. and Glenn Mairo; one a through-and-through townie, the other an adopted son.
There are few residents of Danvers who weren’t either a friend of, or at least knew about the legend of, Frank Tyrrell. I cherished his friendship, especially in that he was one of the few living people who knew and talked to me about my grandfather, Albert Dupray, who died years before I was born. Frank was always into Danvers politics, and whenever his name came up in the 1960s or 1970s, my aunt, Alberta Bass, would always emphatically declare, “He’s a friend of the working man!”
Frank held more elected and appointed positions in town and the region than seemed to actually exist. As School Committee chairman, he presented me with my high school diploma in 1965. As a member of the executive board of the Danvers Historical Society, I worked with him; and as a member and long-serving clerk of the board of trustees of the Peabody Institute Library, I worked under him. I think Frank had served as a Town Meeting member since the late 19th century, and even into his old age Frank was a vibrant personality, always with a smile on his face and an impish twinkle in his eye. There wasn’t a free lunch in town Frank ever seemed to miss; and his stories, memories and jovial spirit lit up wherever he was. He indeed deserved the title “Mr. Danvers,” and I will miss his teasing and camaraderie.
Glenn Mairo was neither a native nor a resident of Danvers, but his impact here and elsewhere was very significant. Glenn was a lover of music, history and education. Attending the Boston Conservatory of Music, Glenn was an accomplished drummer. He became head percussionist with the United States Air Force Band, playing for presidents and fallen heroes.