Thomas Warren Brissett, Sr.

9/29/43-7/30/25

Larger than life, gentle giant, Moose, Big Tommy, Hon, Dad, Grampy, Great Grampy, all-around good guy, aspirational Wise Guy and Goodfella, avid Patriots and Red Sox fan, and a man who never met a stranger, Thomas "Tom" Warren Brissett, Sr. of Washington Depot, CT, died on July 30, 2025, surrounded by his wife, kids, and grandkids.

The term "people person" might have been created for him. Though he had no filter and loved to tease people (often at their own expense), it was always with love, affection, and goodwill. If he didn't harass you, he probably didn't like you. The people he enjoyed harassing the most were his family.

In fact, it was easy to see that his greatest joys were always linked directly to family.

Fishing and boating – well, that was his childhood in northern Vermont with a dad who was a fishing guide, and years spent at Wallace Pond. Eating and "evaluating" the quality of cooking shows – that's his mother's fault; thanks to the endless parade of delicious dishes she managed to create while raising eight kids.

Puzzles and games – as one of eight, and a natural-born card shark, games were always one of his things, and he was always solving word puzzles or whipping someone at canasta (honestly, or maybe not so honestly). Cars and racing – the backroads and logging roads beckoned, so he and his older brother Art and younger brother Mike became expert tinkerers and dirt road racers. From there, it blossomed into drag racing and oval track racing from Danbury and Stafford to Thompson and Lebanon, and a general obsession with all things gearhead.

Music and funny dances – it might be surprising to learn, but Moose had a lovely singing voice and could dance unexpectedly well for a big guy. Nothing made his kids crack up more than when he busted a few choice moves. But his musical tastes were quite…diverse. He was a fierce defender of Milli Vanilli, while also favoring Sunday morning polka with Victor and Sophie Zembruski. He told his children they could learn a thing or two from country music, but also thought that Mambo No. 5 was a fairly fabulous song, and that "Glug-glug-glug-glug-Gloria" (a beer-chugging polka) was entirely fine for his five-year-old granddaughter to march around singing. Time will be the judge.

A history buff, Tom was fascinated by the World War II era and served in the United States Army during the Vietnam Era (the only time in his life he was skinny). He was proud of his service and could never take a walk without eventually ending up marching and counting off steps for his family to follow, which they did, but without ever keeping up with those long legs.

His professional life focused on large vehicles, particularly school buses, and he spent decades traversing the highways of New York, Connecticut, and even Massachusetts as a Navistar and NAPA salesman for Ruwet & Sibley in New Milford, CT. Bringing his kids for workdays was common, and all three remember what it was like to listen to the miles thud out along the highways alongside their dad. Windows down, music blaring, paperwork at risk of blowing away, and road food every few hours…he gave them the gift of time spent at his side.

It always came back to family. Doing well at work was a given; he was a success, but that wasn't the focus. Snuggling the many babies in the family, cheering the bigger kids at sports or arts, coaxing everyone for a weekend meal or three, his family was his joy. Spoiling everyone with treats of many kinds was also a particular trait, and whether it was an overabundant Christmas, a trip to the Enchanted Forest for stickers or the hobby store for models, a groaning table, "starter" cars, big bouquets for Cyndy on the holidays, gifties from even the most mundane trip to the store, he took far more joy in giving than receiving.

His extended family can attest to this thanks to the wonderful summer family reunions hosted by him and his wife, all the way up in Pittsburg, NH. Every meal saw generations seated at the overflowing table, a line of lounge chairs on the porch to sit and gab for hours, big blue boat rides and tubing, the family dogs romping, fishing, and games…he waited for those five or six days every year, like a kid waits for Christmas.

He also liked to take on "extended" family members from among his friends. He counted Bobby Belcourt as an "adopted" son and his roommate Carlo "Carl" Catalanotto as a brother.

And friends? Too many friends to ever count. Tom was active in the Southern New York Racing Association (SNYRA) for many years and ran a few stock cars at the Danbury Fair RaceArena, meaning loads of colleagues and racing adversaries. His career brought him into contact with thousands of people involved in getting kids safely to and from school each day in their big yellow buses. Visiting "bus barns," from the New York Metro area to the farthest outposts of upstate New York and Connecticut, meant Tom had friends everywhere and always seemed to run into somebody he had to catch up with.

Working the counter at Ruwett & Sibley also meant speaking with almost anyone who owned a vehicle in the region – a lot of people, a lot of advice, a lot of commentary, and a lot of knowledge shared back and forth. And yet, he was always happy to do the work. Of course, anyone who thinks he did it for the love of carburetors clearly never saw his take‑out lunch order history.

All these relationships were his inspiration, his source of delight, and his focus right to the end. Then, instead of his family being the center, suddenly, everything flipped, and he was at last the focus of it all. Everyone around him, eyes and hands on him, he was joking and poking fun at his grandson's new beard, his oxygen mask, his busted-up old nose…until his very last breath.

He was preceded in death by his parents, John Oscar and Gabrielle Brissett; his siblings John Oscar Brissett, Jr., Peggy Brissett, Elizabeth "Betty" Ann Wilson, and Michael Brissett. We like to think they were ready with open arms, a card table, and maybe a little good‑natured ribbing when he arrived. And snacks, plenty of snacks.

He is survived by his devoted wife of 59 years, Cynthia Francine Brissett nee Stebbins of Washington Depot, who somehow put up with him all that time and still laughed at most of his antics (which may make her a candidate for sainthood); and by his children, Thomas Warren Brissett, Jr. and his wife Pam of Bristol, CT, Toby Lynn Bartlett and her husband Travis of Scarborough, ME, and Brett Caitlin Sailer and her husband Christopher of Washington Depot, CT – the three of whom inherited his stubborn streak, his storytelling gene, and his knack for turning family game night into a full‑contact sport.

He also leaves behind his brother Donald Brissett and his wife Dottie of Eastford, CT; his brother Charles "Art" Brissett of Troy, VT; and his sister Catherine "Mimi" Lanpher of Hyde Park, VT – each of whom can confirm that surviving a Brissett childhood required a sharp wit, a hearty appetite, and an enormous sense of humor. He also leaves behind many treasured nieces and nephews, as well as even more great‑nieces and great‑nephews.

Moose's joy was multiplied in his grandchildren: Melissa Gabrielle Brissett of Creedmoor, NC, Tanner Patrick Brissett of Maryland, Bailey Katrina Brissett of Pittsfield, MA, and Salem Rebel Mae Sailer of Washington Depot, CT. All adored their Gramp and have lots of memories of gatherings big, small, crazy, and even crazier.

His legacy continues with four great‑grandchildren: Logan Thomas McCallum, son of Melissa; and Jackson Thomas, Ella Marie, and Josephine "Josie" Kay, the three children of Tanner and his wife, Kayla. Though he spent his last months in care, they chatted with him on the phone. Last summer, they visited and the kids splashed in the brook behind Grammy and Grampy's house – news and photos of which gave him joy and left them with memories that will ripple forward for years to come.

Tom also leaves behind Maxamillian Thanksamillion, the African Grey Parrot who chose him as the one human to adore and cherish. The rest of the family just never compared.

A private service will be held in the fall, and Tom will at last return to his favorite woods and lakes up North. In lieu of donations, do as Tom would have and take your family and friends to dinner, because time together is what it's all about.