Arthur "Sam" Cyril Belanger Jr.

Arthur Cyril "Sam" Belanger, age 98, passed away peacefully on August 25, 2024, surrounded by his loving family in Williamsburg, Virginia. Born in 1925 in a farmhouse in Plaistow, New Hampshire, Sam's early life was marked by resilience and determination. Following the death of his mother in 1935, he was taken in and raised by his aunt and her husband in Farmington, New Hampshire. It was here that Sam excelled academically and athletically, laying the foundation for a life full of accomplishment and dedication.

Sam's love for the game of golf, a passion that would last a lifetime, was introduced to him by his uncle during these formative years. At just 17, driven by a deep sense of duty, Sam joined the U.S. Navy in response to the bombing of Pearl Harbor and the start of World War II. He served honorably aboard the USS Altamaha (CVE 18) until the war's end and participated in the Pacific Theater of operations to include the Battle of Leyte Gulf, the largest naval wartime engagement in history.

Returning to New Hampshire after the war, Sam attended the University of New Hampshire, graduating in 1950 with a Bachelor of Science in Business. Soon after, he began his career at General Electric (GE) as a clerk in the Somersworth, NH Electric Meter division. It was here that he met Eleanor Jane Lucy of Rochester, New Hampshire, who would become the love of his life and his partner for the next 71 years.

Sam's career at GE was distinguished and impactful. He held several executive roles in finance and operations within GE's consumer appliance division in Syracuse, NY. In 1971, Sam was appointed Chief Financial Officer of GE's newly established GE Cablevision Corp. His leadership and vision led to his promotion to Executive Vice President of Operations. Sam played a crucial role in growing the cable business to over 3 million subscribers, with postings in Schenectady, NY; Westport CT; Montvale, NJ; and Denver, CO. He retired in 1992 as the Executive Vice President and Chief Operating Officer of United Artists Cable TV after having completed a merger with Liberty Media (predecessor to Tele-Communications, Inc.).

In retirement, Sam settled in Williamsburg, Virginia, where he continued to pursue his love for golf, and discovered a new passion in painting. He spent his golden years creating beautiful oil portraits of his children and grandchildren, seascapes, and other captivating subjects that reflected his keen eye and artistic talent. Sam was also a dedicated volunteer at St. Bede Catholic Church.

Sam is predeceased by his eldest son Robert Russel Belanger (2012) and survived by his beloved wife Eleanor Jane; their three sons, Jeffrey A. Belanger and his wife Susan of Citrus Hills, Florida; Gregory P. Belanger of Arlington, Virginia, and his wife Mai Bunla Belanger; and James D. Belanger of Jupiter, Florida. He also leaves behind nine cherished grandchildren: Jeremy, Matthew, Allison, Emily, John, Diana, Sophie, Trevor, and Tyler; and seven great-grandchildren.

Arthur Cyril "Sam" Belanger lived a life defined by service, love, and dedication to his family and his work. His legacy will continue to live on in the hearts of all who knew him, and his memory will be cherished by those who were fortunate enough to call him husband, father, grandfather, and friend.

The funeral service for Arthur Cyril "Sam" Belanger will be held on Tuesday, September 3, 2024, at 11:30 AM at St. Bede Catholic Church, located at 3686 Ironbound Road, Williamsburg, Virginia. A visitation for family and friends will take place at the church beginning at 10:30 AM, prior to the service.

Following the service, there will be a private inurnment at Saint Bede on September 4. In lieu of flowers, the family kindly requests that donations be made in Sam's memory to Saint Jude’s, www.stjude.org/donate, or Saint Bede Catholic Church, https://bedeva.org/www.bedeva.org/online-giving, causes and missions close to his heart. Fond memories and expressions of sympathy may be shared at www.NelsenWilliamsburg.com.

Son Greg’s remarks at funeral, Saint Bede, 9/3/2024

We are gathered here today to celebrate the incredible life of Arthur Cyril "Sam" Belanger. Now, when you hear a name like Arthur Cyril, you might think of someone stern and serious, but those of us who knew him well—and that would be all of us—know that he was, in fact, our beloved “Sam.” How he got that nickname is a story worth telling, especially today.

There was a cartoon character in the 1930s named "Sad Sam," a little guy with big eyes and a perpetually melancholy expression. My father, in his early school days, had the same big eyes and maybe, on occasion, the same expression—though I’d say he was more "thoughtful" than "sad." His classmates, being the creative bunch they were, called him "Sad Sam." Quickly, it was shortened to just “Sam,” and that nickname stuck like glue. There was another factor - because he discovered his lifelong passion for baseball around the same time, his favorite team, the Boston Red Sox, had a player named "Sad Sam" Jones. So, as they say, it was meant to be, and he became Sam.

Sam lived a long and full life—98 years! And what a life it was, filled with love, laughter, and a bit of mischief. At the heart of it all was his dear Ellie, my mother, his wife of 71 years, the love of his life, and his unwavering partner in everything. The story goes that Dad first spotted her in a friend's high school graduation book and immediately declared her the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. Not long after, at General Electric, he saw that beautiful girl in person and realized it was love at first sight. A short courtship later, they were wed, and they never looked back.

Together, they raised four boys—Robert (who we dearly miss), Jeff, James, and me. Dad and Mom were a team all the way to the end. I think part of the reason they were so successful is that Dad always kept things interesting. For example, he was a numbers guy through and through, which is a useful skill when you’re trying to raise four rambunctious boys. Dad's memory was like a steel trap—whether he was at work or on the golf course. I remember a day at Ford's Colony when a player in a foursome ahead of Sam’s couldn't remember his stroke count. The foursome was at least 170 years in front of Dad’s group, and the confused player was standing on the green counting fingers – one, two . . . . Without missing a beat, another player, Dad’s friend Jack Moran that was in the confused players foursome said, “Ask Sam back there in the foursome behind us; he’ll know.” And sure enough, I believe he did. Dad was known to us as the "human scorecard" because he could remember everyone’s stroke count, every putt, every hole, always instantaneously tracking all side-bets.

But life wasn’t just golf and numbers for Sam. He was a World War II veteran who served aboard the USS Altamaha in the Pacific Theater. Now, if you asked him, he'd say the most nerve-wracking experience wasn't the combat but rather a typhoon in 1944 that made him question his life choices. Leave it to Dad to find the humor in the most precarious situations.

He was also a radioman during the war, copying Morse code messages. Dad got so good at it that he could copy code, read a book, and carry on a conversation all at the same time. This level of multitasking carried into his professional life, sometimes to the bewilderment of his colleagues who could barely keep up. He had a knack for doing two things at once, a talent that often-left others to including us boys scrambling to catch up.

At home, Dad was a firm but loving father. With four sons, he had to be strong—and trust me, he was. We were always a little in awe of his strength, not just his character but his physical grip. He'd strengthen his hands by squeezing rubber balls, and we all felt the power of that grip—whether during a playful wrestling match or when we’d really stepped out of line. I remember the time about 20 years ago when Dad was furiously twisting the cap off a Corona bottle after a round of golf. He managed to get it off and seemed quite proud until I pointed out that Coronas don't have twist-off caps. He just gave me that look, and we both burst out laughing. He was the dad in the neighborhood with the “big mitts”.

Yet, for all his strength and discipline, Dad was compassionate and supportive. He had the patience of a saint, especially when it came to keeping my brother Bob in line at Bishop Grimes High School. Dad practically had his own parking spot there! He could turn any situation into a lesson, usually sprinkled with a dose of humor and a lot of love.

Now, when it comes to Dad's sports legacy, we can't forget his illustrious semi-pro baseball career in Somersworth, New Hampshire, back in the early 50s. Sure, it wasn't the big leagues, or “pro pro,” but to us, it was just as legendary. And let’s not forget his coaching days with Jeff in Little League, where he somehow managed to teach a bunch of kids—who were more interested in the post-game snacks than the actual game—the finer points of baseball.

But Dad didn’t stop there. He passed down his love of sports to all of us, whether it was dissecting every Red Sox and Patriots game with Jeff since the late '70s, taking James to every Tyson fight in NY and NJ in the 80’s, or making sure we all learned to ski as soon as we could walk. Winters in the Northeast were spent on the slopes with Mom and Dad, and that passion for skiing turned into a beloved family tradition. Every year, the whole clan—kids, grandkids, and all—hit the mountains, making sure that Dad's legacy lives on with every turn and every run. And of course, golf, because in our family, the only thing better than a hole-in-one - is being able to brag about it!

So, as we say goodbye to Sam today, let's remember the laughter, the stories, and the lessons he imparted. Let's honor the man who was never afraid to be himself—a true warrior, a loving husband, a wonderful father, and a loyal friend. He taught us to see the humor in life, even in the hard times, and to always keep our hearts open.

Rest in peace, Dad. You’ve played the long game, and you’ve played it well. May you find fairways that are always green, skies that are always blue, and a scorecard where every hole is recorded as a birdie.

Thank you.