FRANCIS J. HARTMAN
Francis J. Hartman took his eight children and their spouses to Paris for his 95th birthday.
He wanted to take them to Ireland for his 100th. But he was short by about five years when he passed away.
“We all believed it would happen, honestly,” said his daughter, Katie Hartman. “Because he was invincible.”
For “Frank” – a distinguished, long-time criminal defense attorney in Burlington County – travel was a passion. So were family, the Catholic faith, Bridge, backgammon – which he never let his kids win – Dunkin’ donuts, storytelling.
And the law.
It almost didn’t happen. The Philadelphia native and Moorestown resident wanted to be a forest ranger, according to Katie’s eulogy for her dad, until a law professor told Frank that his “analytical” mind belonged in a courtroom.
“The rest is history,” wrote Katie. “He chose to put out different fires.”
“He was a brilliant lawyer – just a lion,” she recalled of her father, who often consulted a Bible in court to support his case – albeit usually the same passage. He once asked a witness point blank: “You’re a liar aren’t you?”
“He was a fierce advocate for his clients, making sure they weren’t railroaded,” Katie added. “He couldn’t tolerate injustice or bullying.”
Frank didn’t just interrogate witnesses. When one of his kids committed an infraction, he questioned them separately, asking what TV show happened to be on when “the crime occurred.”
“We didn’t stand a chance,” Katie noted in her eulogy.
Frank’s remarkable life, as his family describes it, began inauspiciously. His mother died when he was 6. Often ill as a child, he couldn’t attend school, so his father would open a well-worn dictionary and have Frank choose a word, then memorize 10 definitions before that word and 10 after.
Frank eventually made it to Roman Catholic High in Philly, a place that for him was a beacon, his own Graceland. Each time he passed it with his children, he told them it was the most important building in the city.
“I was 12 years old before I knew it was a high school,” Katie said with a laugh.
Roman was the first of three institutions Frank attended on full scholarships; St. Joe’s University was followed by law school at Penn. His first wife, Mary, was in her third year of law school at Rutgers-Camden when she passed away.
“He always valued education,” Katie said in the eulogy. “There was never a question that his children would go on to study after high school.”
He had multiple degrees, but the document Frank most prized and kept close was a judgment that formalized his adoption of second wife Barbara’s three children and hers of his four daughters.
The result was a clan that was joined by a daughter between them, then 23 grandchildren and eight great-grandchildren.
Frank prized them above everything else.
“His family was the cornerstone of his life,” the eulogy stated, “and as it grew bigger, his heart grew fuller.”
Frank also loved a good joke. One involved St. Peter, billable hours and something about finding a good lawyer in heaven.
In the magic of Paris – and his insistence on Mass in the front row at Notre-Dame cathedral – Frank was as happy as his family had ever seen him, Katie remembered. He insisted they would go to Ireland.
Instead, heaven has gained a darn good lawyer.
Sources: Lewis Funeral Home, Legacy.com
Inside the obits
Music to the ears
The obituaries often take note of people who thrived on music – either listening or playing, part time or full time, around the house or on stage. Here are four of them:
Joseph Francis Passanante Jr. loved the Kingston Trio – and loved it loud, as his kids would attest. He formed a trio with his two best friends called The Hitchhikers, based on the famous group. A later band of childhood friends was known as The Real Men. He even took his guitar and vocal talents to West Point as a member of its group The Headliners, who performed for President Nixon’s White House in 1971. Joseph was 77.
For Gale Galena Lang, music was the “soundtrack of life,” her obituary notes, especially classic rock. The mother of two had multiple careers, from dance teacher to CDL truck driver at Philadelphia International Airport, giving her the opportunity to pursue the travel she loved. Not even a Stage IV cancer diagnosis could dim Gale’s spirit. “Though her voice has fallen silent,” her obit adds, “its melody lives on in the hearts of all who knew her.” Gale was 71.
Frank A. Canna was a Philadelphia native and Williamstown resident who worked in quality control for various businesses, then owned his own, Mirror Finish Detailing. But he also loved music. He sang and played guitar, ukulele and mandolin. “I remember one Sunday when Frank showed off his talents and sang in the (church) garden,” wrote Kevin Sherry in a memorial post. “What a blessing.” Frank was 77.
Paul James Leonhardt was a wrestling standout at West Deptford High School who also excelled at music. He played guitar and sang “for anyone who would listen,” his obituary notes. Paul – who spent most of his career at the New Jersey Motor Vehicle Commission – also performed with a friend in a band they called Shooz. As for listening to music, he treasured his huge collection of Beatles and Bruce Springsteen albums. Paul was 62.
Sources: Gardner Funeral Home, Farnelli Funeral Home, Smith Funeral Home, Legacy.com
