Kenneth J. Roy

November 1, 1935 - July 19, 2016

Remembering Ken

When I want to describe someone I’ve met, there are many words I can select but one that I rarely use is charming. Yet that’s the first word that comes to mind when I think of Ken - an exceptional word for an exceptional man.

It was about three years ago when I saw a notice in the Beverly Public Library’s newsletter about a writing group that Liz Ciampa was forming. I immediately marked the date on my calendar, arrived early when the time came, and that first day is when I met Ken. Over the three years since, it’s been a pleasure to learn about writing with him and to share some of the details of our lives through our writing. His was a full, interesting life and flashes of the fun-loving, devil-may-care young man that he was at one time came through in his work. In our group he laughed easily, especially at himself; he had the confidence to say when he knew something and admit when he didn’t; and although he didn’t always understand what one of us was trying to say in a piece we wrote, he never put us or the work down. When you are a writing group member, an important and helpful activity is critiquing each other’s work by offering constructive suggestions for improvement. Ken, however, was not a man to delve into sentence structure, punctuation, or any of the other details involved in writing. Nope. He either told you he didn’t understand the work or gave you a thumbs up. I swear I walked on air the day he gave me two thumbs up for one of my stories.

The second year our group was together, we had a party at Beth’s house during our summer break. All the women brought food. Ken, our token male, brought small boxes of Godiva chocolates for his ‘girls’. I was so touched that I took the small silver heart that was part of the wrapping and slipped in onto my key ring; there it still is and there it will stay, because I smile and think of him each time I look at it.

I miss Ken. The world is a sadder place without that twinkle, that wit, that generosity of spirit that was part of my friend, Ken Roy. 

Gail Balentine

     I always looked forward to the days when Ken would read his stories. It was easy to see the rambunctious young man he once was in his Cuban and Californian escapades. When he finished reading his work, we always had questions for him and he would happily expound on his shenanigans leaving out the risque details. He would say he didn’t want to go “too blue” around us ladies.  Ken was always eager to participate in our group and his self- deprecating humor brought joy to our meetings. We always appreciated his male viewpoint and I think he quite enjoyed his status of being “the thorn among all us roses.”  I am certain that Ken had many more stories to write, I only wish he were still here to share them. 

Beth Alexander Walsh

Ken was an original member of the Winter Street Writers and sole male.  He was a treasured addition to our writing group and not the least bit intimidated by all the females.   Ken lived the life of a scientist with the talent of a crackerjack “teller of tales—stories to leave my family.”  Those stories, many of which are in the archives of the WSW Blog are eclectic and intriguing, filled with off-beat characters, humor and exciting real events in his life.  He was a renaissance gentleman, caring, respectful and humble.  He shall be missed!    Rest in peace Ken, dear friend. Condolences to his family and friends,

Lauraine Alberetti Lombara