WIDETT, Neal M. Boston Sign Maker We liked to call him "The Monstah." A solid muscle of a man with a twinkle in his eye, Neal Widett was an indefatigable workaholic, whose idea of a good time was slicing up some lumber, carving 24-inch letters on a sign from morning till night, then crafting his so-called trademark "Widett Cleat" to attach it to a building. But Neal was also a beloved husband and friend, and when he kicked back for the evening, and settled down with a cigar in his mouth and a martini in his hand, an impish smile on his bushy-bearded lips, you felt you were in the company of the Buddha, a humble man – gentle, kind, with a rascally sense of humor. You could see him ambling down the street with his big German Shepherds on one side and JJ's droopy-eared Bassett Hound on the other, three of the luckiest dogs in the universe, and they knew it. They looked up at him with utter adoration in their eyes, which is the way we looked at him too. A true artist and master craftsman, Neal was passionate about making things that were both beautiful and brilliantly constructed. Yet he never took himself too seriously, and for years, he spelled his name "Gneal," claiming to be something of a Gnome. He married the love of his life, Janet Lomartire ("JJ"), who, fittingly, was his gilder throughout his career. Together, they worked tirelessly in their spare time to renovate wrecks of buildings, turning them into beautiful homes and work spaces. Born in Chelsea, Massachusetts on August 30, 1946, Neal grew up in Newton where he developed a close group of friends – his "bar mitzvah boys" – with whom he palled around through high school at Newton North, and who remained close to him throughout his life. At the University of Wisconsin at Madison, Neal was embraced by another gang – his Pi Lambda Phi brothers, who were equally devoted to him for the next fifty years. In his early twenties, Neal dutifully attended and graduated from Boston University School of Law, following his family's plans for him. After joining his father's legal practice, it took Neal about a year to break the news to his folks that he just couldn't stand being a lawyer. To their dismay, he quit law in order to make things with his hands, and embarked on a lifelong career as an artist. For nearly half a century, he designed and built furniture, signs, and other things of beauty. Neal was probably best known for his work as a sign maker in and around Boston. Hand-carved and painted, they stand out as striking works of art throughout the city. He took immense pride in his work and literally changed the streetscape of Boston. His beautifully crafted gilt-lettered signs can be seen on dozens of shopfronts on Charles Street and in other neighborhoods throughout the city. In 1976, Neal was working as a furniture maker and living above Charles Street Supply in Boston when Herman Greenfield, owner of Gary Drug, first asked him to make a sign for them. That marked the start of his sign business. Word spread quickly, and soon Neal had more work than he could keep up with. By 1987, he needed a gilder to leaf his lettering, so he called Butera School of Art on Beacon Street. JJ, a gifted student painter, was given the call by one of the instructors and applied for the job. She confessed that she had never worked with gold leaf. "Well, you sound enthusiastic," he said. "Why don't you come over and let's talk about it?" The two have collaborated ever since, working side by side as colleagues, pausing only long enough to get married in 1992, before getting back to work. Over the years, Neal masterminded and renovated a number of buildings suffering from benign neglect. In 1983, he and four friends bought a five-story dilapidated brownstone in the South End that he redesigned and recast as beautiful residential units with whimsical details. In 2001, he and three partners bought an empty derelict structure covering 26,000 square feet in Dorchester, and completely overhauled the space, creating thirty-two artist studios. And in 2009 he and JJ bought a ruin of an old house in Ayer, Massachusetts and threw themselves into rebuilding it into the home they lived in for the past ten years. In addition to his wife JJ and his dogs Graziano and Dolce, Neal leaves his sister Arlene and her husband David Kemler of Chappaqua, New York; his brother-in-law and driver, Robert Lomartire; brother-in-law Jim Lomartire (deceased) and wife Cathy; and many beloved nieces, nephews, great-nieces, and great-nephews. He also leaves many dear friends, including a very close cadre of fellow woodworkers, artists, and the "Businessmen's Club," aka, "Boys' Night Out," with whom he got together once a month for over thirty years. Neal also acquired a raft of new friends who weren't lawyers, fraternity brothers, or woodworkers, but who nevertheless enjoyed his warmth, wit, and big heart. Since Neal was looking forward to his 73rd birthday in August, in lieu of a funeral, there will be a celebration of his years here with us on August 31. Donations in Neal's name can be made to: ACLU, Southern Poverty Law Center, or World Wildlife Federation. 

View the online memorial for Neal M. WIDETT

Published in The Boston Globe on June 9, 2019

https://www.legacy.com/obituaries/bostonglobe/obituary.aspx?n=neal-m-widett&pid=193089060&fhid=13971