It’s always a gut punch when you hear someone you know has passed. Whether it is through a phone call, a passing conversation on the street, or a post on Facebook, you are never ready.
For me, this happened Friday night (Aug. 16), on Facebook, when I learned of the passing of a Plymouth icon – Charles Maccaferri (1943-2024), or Charlie Mac as he was known by many.
Charlie touched my life in so many ways.
My first recollection of meeting him was close to 40 years ago when I began my career as an architect. I was unaware at the time Charlie had known me since birth. He had worked at Puritan Clothing Company, Plymouth’s premier clothing store. (It’s now home to the Antique Marketplace and New World Tavern). His family also owned Puritan, which had helped at least three generations of Fornaciari men with their clothing needs. I was blissfully ignorant of who owned Puritan and their connection to my family.
As a youngster, a trip to the downtown store meant the purchase of hideous gym uniforms, the only sanctioned gym bag, and back-to-school clothes. Mom would talk to every salesperson and the trip lasted for what seemed like forever. I’m sure one of the conversations had to have been with Charlie.
It was only as a young adult, and long after Charlie had left to pursue real estate, that I would make solo visits to Puritan. A trip now meant picking my own clothes, having Eddie Rezendes know my size (Al Wood, if Eddie wasn’t around), and gleefully charging everything to my parents’ account. It was also after my high school graduation, with an income from a summer job, that mom and dad suggested I get my own Puritan charge card. And so the Maccaferri family helped me take my first step towards building credit.
Shortly before college graduation, I secured my first summer architectural internship with Plymouth Architects. It was there that I would meet Charlie, as young man instead of as a boy. Charlie was instrumental in connecting builders, developers, and new homeowners to the architectural practice I was working in. Charlie was always in the office, and I would often mention this to my parents. What I failed to grasp at the time was the family relationship I had to Charlie. As my parents would eventually explain, Charlie’s mother and my paternal grandmother were first cousins. They were both Rouzzis. (later changed to Rossi) This was lost on a 25-year-old.
I eventually left town for several years. When I returned to Plymouth with a family and was looking to buy my first home, Charlie and I crossed paths again. He was the listing agent for a small antique cape in Chiltonville. There was no insulation, barely any heat, and no kitchen. I was in love. My parents, however, questioned my sanity. It was only when a contractor walked through the property that I realized the enormity of my error. In addition to the previously mentioned issues, the house was riddled with asbestos.
We wanted out of the deal. Legally, we were stuck and should have forfeited our deposit, but despite his anger over our reneging on the deal, Charlie saw to it that we were released from the contract and that our deposit was refunded. I have never forgotten how generous that man was to us.
But it was Charlie’s unwavering compassion for a family member that I was never be able to repay. Shortly after I came back to Plymouth, in 1993, Charlie met a family member through their mutual “friend,” Bill W. They bonded and Charlie became an unspoken father figure to my family member. Charlie had the person’s back, even after they had a “falling out” with Bill. When I ran into Charlie one Saturday morning at Clyde’s (it can’t get much more North Plymouth than that), he told me he was worried because the family member had been absent of late. He had good reason to be concerned. What followed was anything but pretty, but Charlie helped put the pieces back together.
Skipping a few years ahead, Charlie was one of the first people to walk through the doors of my architectural practice. He brought me not one, but three developers that I would work with for the next 25 years. I would also refer Charlie to clients looking for homes and land. It was a relationship I treasured.
Of late, Charlie and I would have impromptu meetings at Gunther Tooties downtown because it was halfway between our offices. We checked in about family, business, and all things Plymouth. In the winter, I checked in to see when he was leaving for Aruba or Florida, and in the spring how the trip back went. Even at 60-plus years old, I still revered and admired this man like I was a 10-year-old.
As I spread the news of Charlie’s passing, I received responses like: “He was such a good man,” “a Plymouth legend,” “the kindest man,” and he had the “biggest heart.”
I can’t fathom not seeing him again. Just spending time with him once a month or so always supplied the joy I needed. You just want (and should have) people like Charlie in your life forever.
Thank you, Charlie. My life is so much richer, thanks to you.
Architect Bill Fornaciari is a lifelong resident of Plymouth (except for a three-year adventure going West as a young man) and is the owner of BF Architects in Plymouth. His firm specializes in residential work and historic preservation. Have a question or idea for this column? Email Bill at billfornaciari@gmail.com.