The six Nappi “kids” grew up in the Downriver neighborhood next door to the Codd family, famous in the neighborhood for having 11 children.
We each had a Codd our own age, and so it was instant playmates and never a problem finding enough kids for a baseball game or hide and seek.
Last week, suddenly while on a run in Riverside State Park, Phil Codd died at 64. Read his obit here.
He was an uber runner, a retired emergency department nurse at Providence Sacred Heart, beloved by staff and patients alike. He married later in life to the beautiful Carrie who described meeting him in a hospital staff room and it was like in the movies — love at first sight.
His confident 13-year-old daughter stood up and said she was glad she had an older father, because she learned to love his “old” music from the 1960s.
The service was packed. And after, the Nappi kids and the Codd kids stayed behind and talked and hugged and cried and remembered.
When the first of the “neighbor kids” of your childhood dies, it's a big, sad deal. Phil was our first neighbor kid.
A gentle man, he reminds all of us how fast it goes, how we can be gone so quickly ourselves.
Thanks Phil, for sharing your childhood with the Nappi kids.
(Memorial program art by Paul Codd, Phil's youngest brother)