Not surprising.

Like most busy executives, the last thing Tony needed was another meeting in his life. But you knew he could be counted on for such causes.

He became an early financial contributor, and sat through meetings when committee members reviewed dozens of applications from worthy nonprofit organizations that did everything from feeding the poor to providing free medical service to mentoring troubled youth.

Tony was always moved by the tremendous work of so many selfless folks who make our community better. He never seemed to give his own, quiet contribution a second thought.

But, to be sure, when he passed away on March 25 at the age of 67, it was a deep loss to our community, not just because of what he gave, but because he embodied a trait that each of us ought to strive for -- to be a generous person.

Tony was born in Jersey City, N.J., the son of an Italian immigrant who came to this country with few possessions. Tony graduated from Saint Peter's College in 1957 with a major in accounting and went on to become a managing partner in what is now KPMG.

The house in New Jersey where Tony grew up was built by his father. Tony also was a builder, and became a developer of communities. Over a period of nearly three decades, he created the national award-winning Avenel community in Potomac with 900 homes and a championship golf course that is home of a PGA Tour event, and then, with his son, Tom, developed places like Lakelands, The Villages of Urbana, Glenbrook and Sunset Island.

He also knew how to swing a hammer himself. His son, Michael, recalls how his father and sons built and rebuilt the family home on Horseshoe Lane in Potomac.

He says, "We would always work late into the night until we were simply too tired to swing a hammer. There was no getting out of it. You planned ahead and worked through the details. You gathered all the supplies and tools you needed. You started what you finished and you did it right the first time.

"You worked together helping each other getting the big jobs done. You cleaned up at the end of each day. And when you were finished, you stepped back and let others enjoy the fruits of your labor and moved on to the next project without looking for a pat on the back. The satisfaction came from knowing you did the best you could and that others would take pleasure from your efforts."

Among the most memorable moment in Michael's life came when he finished a family project. His dad was so proud of his son that he gave him a copy of a coveted key to his workshop and his private collection of tools.

The Natelli home was always open to friends as well as family.

Tom recalls the family crew building a 40-by-16-foot screened porch on the back of the house with a giant round table in the center that could easily seat 20. People would show up at regular Sunday dinners and walk in, pick up a plate, and take a seat at the table and feel right at home.

And they were at home because that is how Tony and his wife, Trudy, married for 47 years, made folks feel.

Tony's appreciation for Trudy, while a private matter, was understood by those who knew them to be a special kind of commitment and love, centered around family.

Writing to his family while attending a retreat, he said, "Over the years we have been blessed in many ways. One of the many is that Mom was always there for you, holding the fort, providing all and more than should be expected of a loving mother."

Their partnership in caring for their family prompted Tony to counsel his children: "Clearly, at the root of much of our serious societal problems today is the lack of total commitment to family needs by parents, seeking instead 'personal self-fulfillment' in many cases. I urge you to continue the ideals of family fulfillment as the true measure of personal success and real everlasting accomplishment."

Besides family, it was Tony's faith that made up the second foundation stone of his life.

In that same letter to his family, Tony wrote: "The opportunity to step back from our day-to-day activities and take stock on a very personal level with the Lord, and bring our focus to the primary purpose of this life, being the entry to everlasting life with God, is at once and the same time very burdensome, and very fulfilling."

It was that kind of faith from this strong and resilient man that shaped a set of values that cared for others, regardless of differences.

When Tom was gathering his father's personal belongings, he came across a prayer card in his wallet with a list of people Tony had prayed for in recent years. One of the names was Betty Ann Krahnke, a former Montgomery County Planning Commission and council member whose views on development led her to vote against every new project presented by the Natellis. Yet, during the time when she was ill with Lou Gherig's disease, which eventually took her life, Tony prayed for her.

That was Tony. He did not let differences get in the way of doing the right thing. And his generosity was never limited.

I was blessed to know Tony the last 10 years of his life. We worked on nonprofit causes together, sat in lobbies together waiting to ask business colleagues for contributions, compared notes on the highs and the lows of business pressures, and enjoyed a good laugh about ourselves and the world in which we lived.

The loss to his family is profound; it is likewise felt by his friends and colleagues and, more than most can know, by our community.

At this moment, our hearts are heavy. For there is no good time for good men to leave us. But we celebrate this one thing. Here was a generous man who looked past success in business and service to his community at what truly mattered the most to him, his faith and his family.

His was a life to honor, to emulate and to remember.

Chuck Lyons is chief executive officer of The Gazette.