Lawrence J. Davis Obituary
Lawrence "Larry" Davis will be remembered as a loving and decent man who adored his wife and four daughters; a faithful servant of God and his church; and a kind, committed friend to his neighbors, extended family, and colleagues.
Larry was born the youngest of five children, with a significant age gap between him and his older siblings—Dan, Gerry, Jack, and Jeanne—which often left him feeling like an only child. At just 13, Larry lost his beloved father, Daniel K. Davis, a devastating loss during a time when he idolized him. His mother, Dorothy "Dot" Davis, stepped in with courage and grace, raising Larry on her own while finding work to keep them afloat. With her warm laugh and unwavering love, she spoiled him just enough and played both roles with deep devotion.
At 17, Larry met the love of his life, Doris Stevens. It was love at first sight—at least for him—and he famously loitered near the girls' bathroom at Gloucester High School until Doris finally agreed to a date (a move he later joked would be considered stalking today). Their first outing was a walk, not a drive, to a movie during a snowstorm—an early example of how the two would always find humor and joy in less-than-ideal circumstances. That shared trait would carry them through a lifetime.
Larry briefly attended Boston College to study Nuclear Physics, and he and Doris stayed in close contact—helped by her job as a telephone operator. When finances forced him to leave school, he joined the U.S. Army and married Doris during a short leave that December. They wed in yet another snowstorm and honeymooned in a frozen New York City and Niagara Falls, laughing as they always did when life was unpredictable.
While stationed in Germany, Larry worked with one of the first top-secret teams decoding Soviet and East German intelligence using the earliest computer systems. There, they welcomed their first daughter, Karen. After returning to the States, they quickly expanded their family with Cheryl, Kelly, and Julie—four daughters in six years, "as all good Catholics do," he liked to say.
Larry pursued a long and impactful career in the computer industry. He earned his Master's degree in Computer Science and became Head of Technology for Gorton's of Gloucester. A lifelong learner, he took pride in his early work on the first computers, later becoming an adjunct professor of Computer Science at Northeastern University and, finally, an instructor teaching cutting-edge internet software development to engineers. He was, in the words of his daughters, "wicked smaaht," and he thrived on the creativity, challenge, and continuous learning his career provided.
In retirement, Larry and Doris traveled adventurously—famously biking down a Hawaiian volcano—and eventually settled in The Villages, Florida. By that time, their four daughters had given them 19 grandchildren, and Larry and Doris spent summers in Rockport reconnecting with family, then returned south to dance, play, and enjoy what they called their "second adolescence.". After the pandemic, they moved back to their beloved Cape Ann to live out their final years surrounded by daughters, grandchildren, and 7 great-grandchildren—always their greatest source of joy.
Those remembering Larry today will surely think of his quick wit, teasing charm, and ready smile. He loved to make people laugh and, to the occasional embarrassment of his daughters, was often the center of attention—holding court and delivering a spontaneous comedy show. Humor was his love language, and he passed down to his family a mindset of resilience, joy, and the ability to find light, even in moments of pain. It is a gift that helped them through his loss.
In his later years, Larry suffered from Alzheimer's disease. The illness took away many of his lifelong passions—his dignity, his books, his ability to drive and use a computer—but it never took away his gentle, kind spirit. Even when he could no longer form full sentences, he tried to make jokes. His daughters—having heard them all countless times—were able to step in and finish the punchlines for him, helping him keep his role as family comedian to the very end. His favorite joke? "I'm going to write a book one day about living in a house with my wife and four daughters. I'm calling it My Toilet Seat is Never Up."Not the world's greatest joke, perhaps, but he thought it was hilarious—so we did too. And that's just who he was.
Private services will be held at a later date. Arrangements by the Greely Funeral Home, 212 Washington Street, Gloucester. Any donations to the Alzheimer's Association in Larry's name can be made here: http://act.alz.org.
