Henry Swanson donated money so that North Beverly's fire station could be repainted.
(Paul Bilodeau/Salem News/file 2004)
Henry Swanson was so determined to make his market on Cabot Street in North Beverly a special place that, at one point, his bag boys wore white, long-sleeved shirts, black bow ties, and white aprons.
The owners' management style, the market's produce, homemade food, homey ambience, and dedicated staff did the rest for 67 years.
His customers included the owners of North Shore mansions and the gardeners, cooks, and housekeepers who staffed them. Among its regulars were and still are countless other people who drive from New Hampshire or farther for the market's home-baked chicken pies, prime cuts from its four-star meat department, and sweets from its aromatic bakery. On Saturday mornings, patrons say, the line of customers runs out the door.
But the food was not the main reason people made tracks to Henry's Market. It was Henry himself, greeting them at the door with a cup of coffee or cookies and commentaries on the day's events, that drew the crowds. He made the market an institution.
"Henry did everything right," said Al Pellicio of Peabody, who worked for Mr. Swanson for 50 years and was his lead supervisor. "The big chains came and went, but Henry's is still here."
Mr. Swanson, who grew up poor in a large family and became a philanthropist - many of his good deeds said to have been done anonymously - died Oct. 12 at Beverly Hospital. He was 93 and had most recently lived in Topsfield.
Virginia (Herren), his wife of 60 years, predeceased him by seven weeks.
Henry's Market coalesced in 1944, when Mr. Swanson and Leo Marquis started selling groceries out of a small store behind the fire station, which is across the street from the present market, Pellicio said. In a couple of years, they acquired the present site, which was also small but has been expanded "three or four times. They gave it a full bakery and kitchen that made Henry's Market the first supermarket that made their own chicken pies anywhere," Pellicio said.
The cooking for take-out food started in the early 1960s, he said, and branched out to "gravy, turkey, potato salad, and anything you can think of. Leo and Henry were like Ike and Mike," he said, referring to the characters in the Rube Goldberg cartoon.
Marquis retired about 15 years ago, and Mr. Swanson became sole owner. Marquis has since died.
With a loyal and dedicated staff, Mr. Swanson carried on until selling the market in 2004 to John Keohane, who had worked for him for 20 years. These days, the staff, nearly 200, all dress in burgundy shirts with a Henry's logo and khaki pants. Keohane said the market will continue as Henry's.
Though he was no longer running the business, Mr. Swanson was still picked up at his home every morning by Keohane and driven to the market. "Henry still enjoyed seeing his customers and his old-time friends and giving cookies out to the kids," Keohane said.
"The store was his lifeline. His legs weren't so good, so we got him this scooter to get around."
Mr. Swanson was born in Beverly, one of eight children. As a youngster, according to the Salem News, he delivered milk in a horse-and-buggy. In the 1920s, Keohane said, he started to learn the grocery business at the old Florant Market and later Galpern's, both once in Beverly.
After graduating from Beverly High School, according to Keohane, Mr. Swanson joined the Navy and served as a storekeeper in California. In San Francisco, Keohane said, Mr. Swanson met his future wife, who was there visiting her brother, also in the Navy. "Henry told me he sent her a ring in the mail and that she came here," Keohane said.
Mr. Swanson had started laying the foundation for a lasting future in the grocery business in the 1940s, friends said, meeting with cooks on the North Shore estates, talking over their needs, and making home deliveries. By the time he and Marquis opened their first store behind the fire station, he had made a lot of contacts.
When they moved across the street, "Henry made sure the new premises were in tip-top shape and nice and homey," Pellicio said. "He was at the store every day."
And, he treated his employees well. "Henry respected you as a worker and always gave bonuses," said John Tlumacki, a Globe photographer who worked as a bag boy at Henry's Market while in high school. "He had a presence about him, a personality, almost like a celebrity. Henry was like the Internet before the Internet, if you wanted to know what was going on."
Mr. Swanson also was a civic leader, sitting on the boards of what was then Beverly Hospital (now a part of Northeast Health System Inc.), the YMCA, and Beverly Cooperative Bank. Whenever a church or other community group had a dinner, it could expect a ham and other comestibles from Henry's Market. "People didn't know all the things Henry did without telling anyone," Pellicio said.
When the fire station needed a paint job, Mr. Swanson provided it. When the community needed defibrillators for emergencies, he paid for them. One in the market helped save a customer's life, Tlumacki said.
Friends said Mr. Swanson just accepted that he would be there to solve everything. "Henry had a favorite saying," Pellicio said. "If someone suggested that something had to be done, he always said, 'I'll take care of that.' "
Mr. Swanson leaves three sons, Dana of Nashua; David of Hawaii, and Dale of Colorado; a sister, Helen McEachern of Beverly, and seven grandchildren.
Services have been held.![]()


