What He Loved

Music was a language he spoke fluently, even when English was still new. Football was a way of keeping home alive. And the people around him—that was everything.

Music

Bert's relationship with music began in the seminary, where he studied formally and learned Gregorian chant by heart. It evolved across decades and continents into something vast and eclectic.

The Jazz and Bossa Nova Years

He fell in love with the sophisticated melancholy of Antonio Carlos Jobim and Stan Getz—music that spoke Portuguese but belonged to the world. He was a devoted fan of Nina Simone, whose intensity and intelligence matched his own.

Miles Davis, Thelonious Monk, Chet Baker, Ella Fitzgerald, Diana Krall—he moved through jazz like a scholar, always learning.

The Guitar Connection

He played guitar himself, and he loved those who mastered it: Al Di Meola (his son Danny remembers the "Kiss My Axe" album fondly), and above all, Carlos Santana.

"Samba Pa Ti" was his favorite piece.

Danny learned to play it while his father was alive but was too afraid to perform it for him. He plays it now. Twenty years late, but with all his love.

The Seeking Sounds

In the 1990s, like many Americans, Bert explored New Age music—Vangelis, the Pure Moods compilation, Sting's more contemplative work.

He never quite let go of Gregorian chant. Perhaps it wasn't about faith anymore. Perhaps it was just beautiful.

The Volume

And then there was Pink Floyd.

Bert was a huge Pink Floyd fan. The Wall. Pulse. "Comfortably Numb." "Hey You." His children remember telling him to turn it down—the music was too loud.

This former seminarian, this yoga practitioner, this reader of existentialist philosophy, needed to feel Roger Waters and David Gilmour rattling through his body.

He also loved Dire Straits (Mark Knopfler's fingerpicking mastery), Fleetwood Mac, and the Moody Blues.

The Last Songs

The last artist Danny remembers his father listening to was David Gray—"White Ladder," "Babylon," "This Year's Love." Melancholy, acoustic, introspective. Music for a man who knew something about loss and hope.

The Bridge

Music connected Bert to people across distances. He sent jazz albums to his youngest brother Nélio in Terceira, and Nélio developed a love of jazz that persists to this day. Music was one of the languages Bert spoke fluently, even when English was still new.

FC Porto

Bert was a lifelong supporter of FC Porto, the football club from Portugal's second city. For Portuguese immigrants, supporting your team was a way of keeping home alive.

On May 26, 2004, two months after Bert's death, Porto won the UEFA Champions League under manager José Mourinho. It was the greatest moment in the club's history.

He was so close to seeing it.

The People

He loved his family fiercely—Maria, Danny, Anthony, Laura. He walked the Charles River with John Reilly and Bob Falconero, the "Three Amigos," talking about work and family and life.

In spite of the tremendous pressures and deadlines that his job imposed on him, his door was always open. You could sit down with him and discuss work or personal problems whenever they arose. He was wise beyond his years. Your conversations with him were respected and privileged.

He gave his kidney to his brother David without thinking twice. He mentored employees, helped family members, was present for friends. He didn't talk about the kidney donation. He didn't need recognition for it. It was simply what you did when someone you loved needed you.