Jo-Anne Chantal Ansbro

JO-ANNE ANSBRO 1927 - 2025 Jo-Anne Chantal Ansbro, 98, a resident of Duncaster in Bloomfield, Connecticut, passed away peacefully at home on December 6, 2025, surrounded by loving family. Far from sad, Jo-Anne’s passing is a celebration of the life that she lived so well and the many hearts she touched. Jo-Anne was born Marie Lilliane Jo-Anne Chantal on April 17, 1927, in Rumford, Maine. She was the beloved daughter of the late Paul Chantal and Marion Gauthier Chantal. She grew up in New York City and attended Mother Cabrini school in Washington Heights from elementary through high school. Her childhood encompassed both life as a Manhattan city child and summers spent in the wilds of Maine with her French-Canadian extended family at their remote camp, reachable only by boat. One of her favorite growing-up memories, recounted many times to her family, was of the day in 1936 when her mother let her, at the age of 12, skip school to attend the opening day matinee of Gone with the Wind. Shortly after starting work as a “mailroom girl” at NBC headquarters in Rockefeller Center, Jo-Anne met her future husband, George. At 19, she married George in St. Patrick’s Cathedral and happily spent the next 65 years with the love of her life until his death in 2011. Their union modeled the true meaning of partnership, as they navigated the years making decisions big and small together. George’s book, I Have a Lady in the Balcony: Memoirs of a Broadcaster in Radio and Television, was published in 2000. Jo-Anne was a devoted homemaker, expertly managing home and family while George worked long and irregular hours in New York City. Her life trajectory mirrored her family's needs: they left the city for suburban life to raise their five children, first in New Canaan, Connecticut, then Montclair, New Jersey. Upon becoming empty nesters, it was full circle back to Manhattan’s Greenwich Village. Eventually, they retired to the shore town of Spring Lake, New Jersey. In 2001, Duncaster became their final home. Jo-Anne carried a big personality on her tiny frame. She knew her own mind, which she usually shared with others without hesitation. Her wonderful sense of humor was frequently on display as she loved nothing more than a good zinger and a hearty laugh. And to the delight of her family, she was a massive Seinfeld fan, having viewed every episode multiple times. Jo-Anne exuded a youthful outlook and energy that entirely belied her years, as she was always genuinely interested in the worlds of her children and grandchildren. Endlessly curious, she was a lifelong reader. For a simple pleasure, she loved a vodka martini and could famously make a meal out of cheese. A devout Roman Catholic, Jo-Anne’s deep spiritual side made her a generous teacher and protector to those she loved. She always put others before herself, especially during the years she spent as a selfless caregiver to her father, her mother, and her husband. Truly a seemingly indestructible woman with nine lives, Jo-Anne met the challenges that life handed her without self-pity or complaint. She never looked back, only forward as she dealt with adversity as best she could and figured out how to move on. Her resilient spirit was evident in her later years as she adjusted to a colostomy at the age of 88 and regularly walked the halls of her nursing home in her late nineties to maintain muscle strength. Throughout her adult life, she gained great satisfaction using her interior design talents to create warm and unique living environments for her family, filled with art and special finds gleaned from antique shops, auctions, and second-hand stores. Always thrifty, she loved a bargain. She was a huge fan of Marshalls and in her later years cherished trips down the road to Ocean State Job Lot. She maintained a lifelong appreciation for physical fitness. Early on, she volunteered to lead exercise classes at her kids’ elementary school when it lacked a phys ed program, and she rarely took an elevator if stairs were available. In her sixties, she traveled to Kentucky for certification as a Body Recall instructor, going on to teach classes to senior adults for many years in New Jersey and at Duncaster, helping them to regain and maintain flexibility, mobility, and strength. At Duncaster, Jo-Anne’s favorite activity was leading the Playreaders theater group. With great enthusiasm and commitment to overseeing every detail, she directed fellow Duncaster residents in old-time radio plays and often performed in them, as well. She also served on many committees as a member of the Duncaster Residents Association. Without a doubt, Jo-Anne’s proudest accomplishment was the endless love, care, and guidance she unwaveringly gave to her family. She was the proud mom of Andrew (Drew) of Oakland, CA, Marianne (Mimi) and her husband Tom Maloney of Ithaca, NY and Dunedin, FL, John and his wife Bonnie of Manhattan, NY and Rumford, ME, Karen of Old Saybrook, CT, and Katie of Essex, CT. She loved being “Nana” to grandchildren Martha Blaisdell, Georgia Maloney, Patrick Maloney, Max Ansbro, Mellora Ansbro (Kenny Konzelman), Grace Leone, and George (Molly) Leone. She was thrilled to welcome her first great-grandchild, Kate Margaux Leone, just five months ago. Her brother, Paul F. Chantal, Jr. (Muffy) predeceased her. The family would like to thank the staff of Caleb Hitchcock Health Center for their outstanding care and dedication over the last two years. Her family will receive friends at Molloy Funeral Home in West Hartford from 4:00 to 7:00 p.m. on Friday, December 12. A funeral mass will be celebrated at 11:00 a.m. on Saturday, December 13 at Sacred Heart Church in Bloomfield. Committal services will be held in the spring at Gate of Heaven Cemetery in Hawthorne, NY, where she will be laid to rest alongside her parents and husband, George. In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions may be made to the Ostomy Association of Greater Hartford, the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, or to a charity of one’s choice. When a ship slips beyond the horizon You say, “There . . . she is gone.” While on the other side glad voices cry, “See . . . she is coming!” And that is dying.