In Boca Raton, FL, Jan. 8, 2006, David H. Costello, 94 of 5851 NW 25th Terrace, Boca Raton, FL formerly of Woodbridge and Wilton, CT. Son of the late Charles M. and Adele Hillman Costello, brother of the late Charles H. Costello and the late Frances Scott. Survived by 5 nieces and nephews. David graduated from Exeter Academy. He received a degree from Yale University in 1934. As a teacher, he taught mathematics at Hillhouse High School from 1934 to 1946. He was administrative assistant principal at Hillhouse High School from 1946 until his retirement in 1970. David was a Director of C. Cowles Co. on Water St., New Haven for many years and was a member of the Union League Club in New Haven. Funeral service and burial are private. BEECHER & BENNETT, 2300 Whitney Ave., Hamden is in charge of local arrangements. Memorial contributions may be made to CT Hospice, 100 Double Beach Rd., Branford, CT 06405.

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  1. David was very kind and generous to the Lassen family. My mother and father-in-law, Howard and Eva Lassen,often entertained him in their home. My children called him Uncle David and some of us visited David and Bob Lassen in Boca Raton. Our sincere condolences to your family. Barbara Lassen (Mrs. David)for the entire Lassen family.

  2. I will miss his sharp mind, his quiet wit, and his cigars. Saturdays will be sad for awhile, as will firsts-of-the-months. Rabbit Rabbit, Uncle David……

  3. My family and I have lovely memories of Uncle David. My siblings and I remember swimming in the pond in Woodbridge as children and visiting with him and Uncle Bob in Wilton with our children. Thank you Uncle David.

  4. Uncle David was one of my all-time favourite relatives. He would pretend to be gruff when I was little and complaining about his cigars-and then he would make me laugh! He always reminded me of Eeyore in Winnie the Pooh – acting as if nobody cared when in fact EVERYbody did. After my mother, his little sister, died, I rang him the first of the month to let him know that the new month had already arrived safely in Australia. He asked about us all, remembered what we were doing, and filled me in on the rest of the family, world news, and the stock exchange-and we compared cyclones. But best of all, I remember the carnations. Attached to the dining room of the old family home, he had a greenhouse full of carnations that sent the most wonderful aroma into the house. I always think of Uncle Dave when I smell cigars, but even more when I smell carnations. I’m sure he’ll forgive me if I don’t take up cigars, but I WOULD like to grow some carnations for him.

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