I remember meeting Ned Very at St. Charles (the original location) around 1981. We were trying to put together a folk group to play at one of the masses. He seemed so genuine, someone who I could count on as a friend. My hunch was spot on. We soon found music at the center of our families and church as a way of life. I sponsored him on Cursillo, a Christian retreat, and our group of friends grew around the love of God.

Through the years, Ned proved that his voice in the songs we played resounded in joy. We shared often how life is tough but we can get through it with Him.

I remember his last word to me; "Amen" How uncanny he would choose that to be his last... or was it his way of saying "I know I'm ok. I'll see you soon."

Love and miss this friend and the many memories we shared together.

I was so sad to hear that Ned had passed away so recently...I have such vivid memories of him even though I had only seen him a few times since he graduated from WHS. I grew up around the corner from the Very family and our families were friends, especially my mom and (his mom) Ruth. As others have noted, there was just something about Ned that was "fun" which emanated from him when he was around. In my experience, he just seemed to fill the room with a happy, optimistic spirit. His sense of humor and the twinkle in his eye were ever present! I recall getting to recognize that the few times he was my babysitter...if I recall we played cards and living room hockey and he was a good sport letting me win each time. 

After high school, I heard through my mom that he'd moved to NH and for some reason to me that just seemed "right" for him. I saw him most recently probably 30 years ago at his Mom's house and he was clearly the same guy and had a great life surrounded by nature's abundant beauty and his loving family. As an aside, for some reason he always reminded me of a calm version of Charlie Moore, who's had a local fishing show for years and years. They both had an ever present smile and seem to be most at home on a New England lake or pond. 

As is usually the case as we get older, I'd hoped to run into him again someday, since I spend a lot of time in New Hampshire, and Meredith was one of our favorite stops. I feel blessed to have known him and I will always have fond memories of him, even though I had not seen him much since the Westwood days.  

With our sincerest condolences to all the Very family. So very sad to learn of Ned‘s passing. Our families were such great friends growing up in Westwood. 

Much love from the Allen family

There are many fond memories of Uncle Ned, but one that stands out as exemplary of his generous spirit, and the influence he had on me, happened during a summer visit to see my cousins in Meredith. For anyone reading who doesn't know, I grew up a few hours away, in Norwood, MA, which, although it isn't a 'cold' or 'unfriendly' place, per se, always seemed a little tough and closed off to me while walking downtown or generally navigating its small town blocks. Perhaps I was projecting. The default seemed to be a gruff exterior and a curt nod if anything, but more often than not, folks who didn't already know each other didn't interact, and most of us definitely didn't greet the world with a smile. Well, on this trip to Meredith, I found myself with Uncle Ned taking the dog for a walk. (I feel bad that I don't recall the pup's name as I write this!) We were downtown, on a walking path right by the lake and, of a sudden, he stopped to chat with a Complete Stranger walking in the opposite direction. It blew my mind. Truly. We were delayed for almost 30 minutes while Ned smiled and made small talk with this person he had never met as though they were old friends. In retrospect, it was beautiful, and it was the way the world should be. It was the way he envisioned community without thinking too hard about it, and the way he Showed Up for his fellow man. It was a simple moment, but it has stuck with me all these years and I think about it whenever I think of Uncle Ned. I hope that by learning from his example I'm a little more open, a little more friendly, and a little more generous as I continue to make my way in the world.

Uncle Ned taught me to body surf like a champ, gave me what was probably my first turn at the helm of a motor boat, let me pilot his snowmobile on multiple occasions, and, when I had only a motorcycle to my name on the eve of a blizzard-y Rhode Island winter, sold me his beloved Chevy S10 for a song, so I'd have a roof over my head and 4 wheels under my butt. My heart is with his girls, and with all of his family who knew and loved him so well, and who are grieving this tremendous loss. I certainly feel privileged to have known the man and will do my best to remember his example.