Janet Holmes

On September 6, 2026, Janet Holmes (nee Dussault) 94, passed away peacefully at 

Edgehill Nursing Home, in Glenside, PA.

Born in Astoria, Queens in 1932, Janet was a star student and a thespian who found

her people, and several gay boyfriends, in the high school theatre club. After

graduation, she left home and began working for Scandinavian Airlines, where she

caught the travel bug. She worked in the industry for more than thirty years, traveling

the world and befriending people wherever she went—especially her seatmates on

long, boozy transcontinental flights.

She and her first husband, Artemis Lawrance Holmes, a writer, lived together with their

daughter Elizabeth in a tiny apartment on Central Park, an old springhouse in West

Chester, a townhouse in Philadelphia, and a sprawling Spanish colonial house

overlooking the Mediterranean in Mallorca. A fine writer in her own right, Janet

frequently edited Lawrance’s work. She was also an expert seamstress, and made

exquisite clothes for herself, Elizabeth, and Elizabeth’s dolls. She and Lawrance’s seven

surviving children—some of whom were very close to her in age—got along famously,

and Dorothy, John, and Toni remained her close friends throughout her life. Julie, the

youngest, was her beloved second daughter with whom she shared a deep

understanding and who could lift her spirits and make her laugh like no one else.

During her single years in the Old City neighborhood of Philadelphia, Janet worked in

development at the Philadelphia Theater Company and as the administrative director of

Historic East Market Street. She met her ultimate sweetheart, Rich Ciocco, a painter

and trumpet player, in a recovery support group, and they married in 2000. Janet and

Rich lived for many years on League Street in South Philadelphia where they renovated

Rich’s family home; hosted countless dinners for neighbors, friends, and family; and

helped to transform their block into a tree-lined oasis. Rich was Janet’s adoring partner,

forever dazzled by her beauty, intelligence, and wit. They had a great time spending

their days together, being cozy at home. Janet’s dinners were always the best thing

Rich had ever tasted, and they always ate by candlelight. Each night they lay side by

side in bed, talking and holding hands. Even though they were homebodies, they had

plenty of adventures, skinny dipping in the ocean at Cape May Point, exploring little

towns in New Mexico, and jet-setting off to Paris without a plan. Janet and her daughter

would often bond over their amazement and gratitude at having found the best

husbands in the world.

Janet did the Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle in ink; listened to the news on

NPR every day even when it drove her crazy, which it always did; rebelled against

societal conventions and norms that she thought were silly; fiercely defended the

vulnerable and the unjustly maligned (especially Martha Stewart); and spoke her mind

with little concern for how others would react. She was a great beauty who thought of

herself as irresistibly adorable well into her old age. She threw a fabulous dinner party,

and if the roast burned to a crisp or the fondue was stringy, she just laughed, ordered a

pizza, and turned it into a funny story with which to regale her guests—she was a

hilarious storyteller who was not afraid to embellish to keep everyone entertained. She

was phenomenal in a crisis, rising to every emergency with calm, bravery, and effective

action. Her wit was legendary – she could break up an entire room with a casual zinger

or slay with nothing more than a raised eyebrow. She never met a stranger, striking up

conversations in all kinds of public arenas – grocery lines, doctors’ waiting rooms,

SEPTA buses, and of course, the aforementioned airplanes. She was a force to be

reckoned with.

Janet loved her daughter Elizabeth dearly and truly believed she was perfect…if only

she would call her mother more often.

Janet is survived by her husband of 26 years Richard Ciocco; her daughter Elizabeth

McGoran, son-in-law Jon, and grandson Will; her stepdaughter Julie Muir and husband

Bob, and their children, Abby and Helen Irene.

In recognition of her belief that everyone should be empowered to make their own end-

of-life decisions, donations in Janet’s memory may be made to Compassion and

Choices.