Inspired Giving: Meet Ken Crisafulli
Hello, my name is Ken Crisafulli, and I work in Real Estate Development at Rogerson Communities, an organization dedicated to senior housing and services.
My connection to LGBTQ Senior Housing began well before the building welcomed its first residents. Rogerson had the privilege of being considered as a potential developer for the former Rogers School during the City of Boston's RFP process. I was familiar with the property, what it once was, and what it might become.
I also had the pleasure of knowing Philippe Saad and his architectural firm, DiMella Shaffer, through projects we've worked on together over the years.
I'll admit, I was disappointed when Rogerson wasn't selected. But I was genuinely happy for Philippe and his team at LGBTQ Senior Houisng, knowing something special could come from the opportunity.
Living in Dedham, just over the Hyde Park line, I frequently passed the old school on my way home from our Roslindale office. For years, I watched the building sit quietly, waiting for its next chapter.
I remember occasionally asking Philippe, "When are you guys finally going to start that project?
When construction began, I continued my drive-bys, offering my own running architectural commentary.
"Looking pretty good, Philippe. Love those windows. Boy, that brick cleaned up nicely!"
Eventually, I asked Philippe for a tour.
What I discovered was so much more than a beautifully restored building.
That's when I met Gretchen and several members of The LGBTQ Senior Housing staff.
As Gretchen guided us through The Pryde, I remembered the empty school, the quiet corridors, and the loneliness of a vacant building. Spaces once filled with conversation and laughter had stood silent for some time.
Now, those same spaces were alive again.
Looking down into the beautifully refurbished gymnasium, with its colorful floor design, I couldn't help but smile. Here was a thriving community center, a testament not just to the building's design, but to the people who bring it to life every day.
Then came the karaoke.
Gretchen brought us into The Reamer Sunroom where residents had gathered for a morning karaoke session. After introducing our tour group, the very friendly and inclusive, Program Assistant announced, "Oh no, here we participate! Come on up and tell us who you are, where you are from, and your favorite karaoke song!"
Well, I went first.
Introduced myself and "Neil Diamond. Forever in Blue Jeans."
The residents' enthusiasm was contagious, and before I knew it, I was singing a few lyrics myself.
I have to admit, I didn't want to give up the microphone!
But one more stop on our tour left an even deeper impression.
Gretchen showed us Rita Hester’s Open Vault, a free “store”, where residents needing everyday necessities can simply help themselves, free of charge, on the honor system.
This is where I got a little choked up.
For years, I've thought about creating something similar in communities I've helped develop. A simple, dignified way to help people without making them uncomfortable or having to ask.
It's an idea I've carried around but never quite brought to life.
And here it was, right in front of me. Someone had done it, and beautifully.
I've spent nearly 40 years working in design, construction, and real estate development, primarily in senior housing and care. I've been fortunate to participate in some remarkable projects, but throughout my career, I've held onto one core belief:
At the end of the day, it's only bricks and mortar.
We can design beautiful buildings, restore historic architecture, and provide safe housing. All of that matters.
But buildings alone don't create community.
It's the people who live in them, the staff who care, who encourage someone to sing a Neil Diamond song, and who quietly make sure a neighbor has what they need.
It's the human touch that transforms a building into a home.
That's what I saw at The Pryde.
My wife and I were inspired to make a contribution, modest as it may be, because we believe in this mission and the good work The Pryde is doing to make people's lives better.
To Gretchen, Philippe, the staff, and everyone who brought The Pryde to life, thank you for filling those once-empty corridors with life again.
And thank you for reminding me why the work we do matters, and inspiring me to do a little better myself.