Francis J. Conley, 92, of Salem, NH passed away on Tuesday, September 18 ^th at his home, surrounded by his family, and wife Helen of 70 years. Frank was a member of the Salem VFW Post #8546 and the USS Missouri Association. He was born and educated in South Lawrence, MA, attending St. Patrick's School. He lived with his mother, two brothers and two sisters. When he left in the morning he was out and about with his cousins, playing under the mills and gone for the day. His mother would always say that Frankie would take care of himself, and that he'd be back for dinner. Growing up on Springfield Street in South Lawrence may have had its challenges, but with that came many stories.

Frank had a few favorites to tell through the years. Like when he was about 10 years old and heading to the movies with his cousins. He put his only dime in his mouth in order to cross a trestle so he wouldn't lose it. Unfortunately, when he jumped down he swallowed it. Gone was the dime, and gone was the afternoon at the movies. The funniest part is that he believed the dime was still sitting in his stomach after all these years.

Frank could go on and on about his childhood; how he made his own army guys by melting lead on the stovetop and pouring it into molds to harden, creating a homemade radio out of a metal can and wire, making kites out of newspapers and sticks, playing marbles, play 'kick the can' down the street to pass the time. He made it clear however, that he wasn't always the angel he appeared be. On milk delivery days in the winter, he would get up early to sneak a taste of the frozen cream that had risen to the top of each bottle, leaving only the "skim" milk behind.

"Now hear this"! Frank proudly served in WWII, serving from 1944 to 1946, as Seaman First Class aboard the USS Missouri (BB-63), otherwise known as the "Mighty Mo". He was aboard when General MacArthur accepted the Japanese surrender in 1945 to end WWII, securing the USS Missouri into history forever. Frank often spoke of the surrender ceremony, and how the Mahogany table, which was sailed over specifically for the signing, was too small for all the papers to be laid upon. So, the crew was ordered to grab a table from the mess hall instead. After the signing, the crew was told to get the table as it was historical. Only by that time, the table was back in the mess hall. The crew grabbed whichever table was in the front, and that is the "historic table" still standing in the museum today.

Frank's stories of the war, and his time aboard the Mighty Mo were told time after time. He spoke of the food, and how he learned to "Waste not, want not" and "take what you want, but eat what you take", how he snuck into the officer's quarters to shower, and how he poked a hole in the air vent above his bunk in order to breathe fresh air. He told stories of the kamikaze plane that hit the Mighty Mo, and showed us the piece of medal he grabbed as a keepsake. He spoke so highly of the USS Missouri, and explained why the ship was called a 'she'. He said "it takes a lot of powder and paint to make her pretty".

Frank was already enlisted in the Navy when he met Helen in 1944. They were young when they met, but the city boy knew right away that he had found someone special in the country girl. "I looked at her and I just said, 'Wow.' Her friend had wanted Helen to date her brother, but Helen looked at me and apparently thought she saw a pot of gold." He was with his good friend from the Navy, Gordon McGibbon, when he met Helen. Frank was smitten; sending Helen postcards, love letters and even silk stockings while serving in WWII. While on leave, they would stroll along Essex Street in Lawrence together, enjoy Lawton's Hot Dogs, or take a bus and walk the 2 miles to the Leriche family home in Salem. Less than a year after meeting, Frank proposed and the rest is history.

They lived in Salem together for their entire married life, in the house that Frank built just a year into their marriage. They were married for 70 years, the longest married couple in Salem. The Greater Salem Caregivers said to Frank and Helen, "You are a wonderful example of devotion and commitment", and nothing truer has been said. Their love and friendship remained strong throughout the years, raising 3 daughters, 8 grandchildren, and 13 great-grandchildren. They showed the meaning of true love, the importance of family, and how to stick together, side by side, no matter what. Frank gave cards to Helen for every holiday, signing it each time, "With oceans of love, and a kiss on each wave. To my one and only, Frankie Boy".

Being a Salem resident for so long, Frank Conley is certainly known around town. Every year at Christmastime, Frank would light up the corner of Millville Street with a giant light display at his family home. People would come from all over to walk around admiring the grand display. Frank was sure to greet each person and answer any questions. If you ask him where all the wires are, he would chuckle and say, "magic". Seeing Frank's display would become a Christmas tradition for generation after generation.

Frank was the president of the "Band Aids" from 1966 to 1970, leading the Salem High School Band parents group. He drove band equipment all over the country, organized practice space, and led their fundraising efforts. He and Helen were even in Washington, D.C. for the Cherry Blossom Parade when Martin Luther King, JR. was assassinated.

He is perhaps most well-known for his dedication as the Plant Superintendent at the Salem Coca-Cola plant. Frank began working at the "Coke plant" as a bottler in 1945, and loved every bit of working there. He took his children (and later, grandchildren) to the plant to see how the bottles were made and filled, learn how to drive a forklift, and to see how much had changed over the years. He shared many stories of his time there and always had enough Coke for everyone, even for all the school functions, earning him the nickname, 'Mr. Coke'.

Frank's love for travel began during WWII, while aboard the USS Missouri. He earned exotic Navy awards like the "Oriental Realm of the Golden Dragon" for passing through the mid-Pacific Ocean. "You enter the dragon's empire when you cross the International Date Line by sailing west (say some), or sailing east (say others)." He also earned the "Mystic Order of the Flying Carpet" when traveling into the Turkish Straits. In fact, Turkey was his favorite place he visited of all time. Other favorite visits during the war included Greece, Rock of Gibraltar, Isle of Capri, and the Panama Canal.

He told one story time after time, about how the Mighty Mo was designed to narrowly navigate through the 110 foot canal, leaving less than a foot on either side of the 108.2 foot ship. In order to balance the ship perfectly, it was required that the 2400 sailors that were aboard, divide with half to the port side, and the other half to the starboard side. He loved taking his family places, and saved his pennies in order to do so. He took them to Pine Island Park, the ships in Boston, Benson's Wild Animal Farm, Santa's Village, Storyland, and the beach. He shuffled everything in the sand, including a metal Coca-Cola cooler packed full with lunches and drinks, and a solid block of ice that he chipped away at with an ice pick. His daughter just merely needed to carry their sand pails.

Frank's travel continued over the years, with trips to Niagara Falls in NY, autumn drives through the White Mountains, cross country travel to South Carolina, Pennsylvania, Michigan, Iowa, Illinois, Arizona, and Nevada. He loved his excursions through Death Valley, Scotty's Castle, Grand Canyon, Red Rock Canyon, and the Valley of Fire. He especially loved Death Valley in the spring because it was covered in wildflowers. He traveled in later years as well, visiting Germany, England, France, and Ireland. At age 75, he traveled to Ireland to look up his genealogy with two of his daughters. They stayed just outside of Cork, Ireland, where his family originated. They walked everywhere, and caught the local bus where he managed to find coin after coin laying around. He always said, "Don't look at the stars, the money is on the ground", and this was no exception. They visited the Titanic memorial in Cobh (a passion of his), and toured the Ring of Kerry on a double-decker bus, where Frank was awed by the scenery of the green carpet rocky shore. Yet, the highlight of the whole trip, was walking the winding staircase up the turrets of the Blarney Castle, where he hung backwards and upside down to kiss the famous Blarney Stone. Being Irish wasn't his heritage, it was his way of life. Each St. Patrick's Day, he delivered to his wife Helen and his daughters and granddaughters, a corsage of green carnations, and to his grandsons, a single green carnation stem. He'd even travel to Wakefield in the morning to be sure all kids had their "green" before going to school. His Irish pride extended into everything, including his birthday. Coincidentally (or luck of the Irish), his birthday was a mere 3 days before St. Patrick's day. Every birthday, he wore a silly hat to blow out his candles, and posed with his signature smile, while celebrating together as a family.

Frank would joke about anything and everything. When asked a question, one would never really get a straight answer. He was either "going to see a man about a horse" or telling us we were "full of coke". Frank mentioned more than once that "it was hard being perfect, yet someone had to do it", and that "he was born handsome". He pulled plates of food away when we weren't looking, told us "your money is no good here", yet "nothing comes free". When asked how he's feeling, he'd simply say, "with my hands". His humor and laughter warmed so many hearts, and his jokes and anecdotes have become his family's "life lessons". Some of our favorites are; "Don't take any wooden nickels", "Call when you get there", "God helps those who help themselves", "Don't trust anyone farther than you can throw them", "Never throw the first punch", "Always stand up for yourself", and "Goodnight, sleep tight, and don't let the bed bugs bite" (spoken from experience). And one of the lasting memories that will never fade were Frank's bubble kisses. It was his way to say 'hello', 'goodbye', and 'I love you'.

To Frank, his family was everything. His family includes his loving wife and best friend of 73 years, Helen M. (Leriche) Conley of Salem; his three daughters, Helen Anderson and husband Gary of Salem, NH Barbara Conley of Salem, NH and Patricia LaPierre; his eight grandchildren, Gary Anderson, Jr. of Greenville, MI, Helen Kaplan of St. Clair Shores, MI, Francis Anderson of Shingle Springs, CA, Victor Anderson and wife Alyssa of Boston, MA, Jodi Tyler and husband David of San Tan Valley, AZ, Tricia Roy and husband David of Salem, NH, Kristie Wagner and husband Shawn of Chicago, IL and Barbie Lynch and husband Matthew of Hingham, MA; his thirteen great grandchildren, Jami Cossette and wife Sophie, Hali Kunst, Brendan Tyler, Kaila, Kiana and Kalli Roy, Brooke and Aria Lynch, Tori, Nicholas and James Anderson and Jake and Vivien Wagner. Francis was predeceased by his mother, Mary V. Conley, his sisters, Rita Conroy and Mary Conley, brothers, Ralph Connelly and Joseph Conley. Frank taught his family to keep our head up and "act like you own the place", and that "a little hard work never hurt anybody". He taught us survival and gumption, how to hold our heads up high, carry a smile and to have a generous heart. He was beyond clever, was creative and handy, and to us, he was the strongest man that we've ever known. And we say this to you Frank/Dad/Grampa/Grampa Frank/Pa… "Don't forget where you live".