Rich wrote those words in a scrapbook sixty years ago, not knowing the life that lay ahead of him and how many lives he will have touched by the time he was done.
Click the button below to leave a message or share a memory of Rich and to remind us all how much of a hero he was.
11 entries.
I will always cherish my memories with my lil bro, Rich, we shared a lot with many stories.
A cute one!
A Christmas gift, Rich was overjoyed playing with the miniature Indian and Cowboy figured dolls including their tents, wagons, horses and villages, etc. He asked me if I could play with me and he decided me to be the Indian. While we both played as the enemy battle, I tried to beat him by my horse to knock down his horse. He told me I must fall dead because cowboy always win the war. I got upset and screamed that brought my mom over and he spoke her too fast that I didn’t have the chance to explain. So mother explained, we should take turns and you can imagine what his face looked alike!
Of course, we experienced some physical fight while very young and this one, we never picked a fight was.
He usually went to bed around 7:30pm and I at 7:45pm, we very often crawled out of our bedroom floor playing card games for about 30 minutes. He listened if parents were coming and we know when to zoom to our beds.
No matter where we live, we always contacted each other by letter or stop by, and thru wonderful video phone on every Friday evenings.
A cute one!
A Christmas gift, Rich was overjoyed playing with the miniature Indian and Cowboy figured dolls including their tents, wagons, horses and villages, etc. He asked me if I could play with me and he decided me to be the Indian. While we both played as the enemy battle, I tried to beat him by my horse to knock down his horse. He told me I must fall dead because cowboy always win the war. I got upset and screamed that brought my mom over and he spoke her too fast that I didn’t have the chance to explain. So mother explained, we should take turns and you can imagine what his face looked alike!
Of course, we experienced some physical fight while very young and this one, we never picked a fight was.
He usually went to bed around 7:30pm and I at 7:45pm, we very often crawled out of our bedroom floor playing card games for about 30 minutes. He listened if parents were coming and we know when to zoom to our beds.
No matter where we live, we always contacted each other by letter or stop by, and thru wonderful video phone on every Friday evenings.
Uncle Richie was a man of few words but many actions. Every sentence he spoke carried weight because he always took a moment to think before answering, even when it was a simple yes or no. I often found myself paying attention to his expressions and body language because even the smallest shift in his face said so much.
One Thanksgiving stands out in my memory. Our family gathered at his house to celebrate, but his kids couldn’t make it that year. I could sense he felt a little down. When I asked how his kids were doing, his whole face lit up. He talked about Mike and his love for photography and travel, Sam and her work in graphic design and her dog, and Kat’s studies in psychology. He was so happy that his kids found what they love, whether it was in their careers, their hobbies, or the people they chose to share their lives with. You could feel how proud he was of them in every word he said.
Then there was one summer Sunday I’ll never forget. I was helping Aunt Ruby make Italian pasta for dinner when Uncle Richie came home. The moment he saw her, his whole demeanor changed. He quietly sneaked up, motioned for me to stay quiet, and wrapped his arms around her out of nowhere. Aunt Ruby jumped and he burst out laughing, a deep joyful laugh that filled the room. He kissed her cheek, winked at me, and casually walked to his desk like nothing had happened. In that moment, I got to see a side of him few people did—the playful spirit hidden beneath his calm steady exterior.
He also had a way of offering advice that stuck with you. I remember telling him about my struggles in graduate school and how I had to shift my dream from becoming a veterinarian to pursuing a career in laboratory research. He looked at me and said, “No matter what obstacles are being put in front of you, you can find a way around them and remember to enjoy the journey there. You can do it.” I still carry those words with me.
Another thing that always meant a lot to me was how he kept in touch by writing letters for our birthdays. I loved each one because it showed how much he cared. Instead of sending a quick text or email, he took the time to sit down and write, and you could feel his thoughtfulness in every word.
Those moments will always stay with me. Uncle Richie taught me that love doesn’t always need grand gestures or many words—it lives in the small pauses, the thoughtful glances, the handwritten notes, and the quiet acts of care that speak louder than anything else.
One Thanksgiving stands out in my memory. Our family gathered at his house to celebrate, but his kids couldn’t make it that year. I could sense he felt a little down. When I asked how his kids were doing, his whole face lit up. He talked about Mike and his love for photography and travel, Sam and her work in graphic design and her dog, and Kat’s studies in psychology. He was so happy that his kids found what they love, whether it was in their careers, their hobbies, or the people they chose to share their lives with. You could feel how proud he was of them in every word he said.
Then there was one summer Sunday I’ll never forget. I was helping Aunt Ruby make Italian pasta for dinner when Uncle Richie came home. The moment he saw her, his whole demeanor changed. He quietly sneaked up, motioned for me to stay quiet, and wrapped his arms around her out of nowhere. Aunt Ruby jumped and he burst out laughing, a deep joyful laugh that filled the room. He kissed her cheek, winked at me, and casually walked to his desk like nothing had happened. In that moment, I got to see a side of him few people did—the playful spirit hidden beneath his calm steady exterior.
He also had a way of offering advice that stuck with you. I remember telling him about my struggles in graduate school and how I had to shift my dream from becoming a veterinarian to pursuing a career in laboratory research. He looked at me and said, “No matter what obstacles are being put in front of you, you can find a way around them and remember to enjoy the journey there. You can do it.” I still carry those words with me.
Another thing that always meant a lot to me was how he kept in touch by writing letters for our birthdays. I loved each one because it showed how much he cared. Instead of sending a quick text or email, he took the time to sit down and write, and you could feel his thoughtfulness in every word.
Those moments will always stay with me. Uncle Richie taught me that love doesn’t always need grand gestures or many words—it lives in the small pauses, the thoughtful glances, the handwritten notes, and the quiet acts of care that speak louder than anything else.
I am truly blessed to have had you as my uncle and godfather while growing up. You were always someone I looked up to—strong, kind, and full of love.
There’s one memory that has stayed with me all these years. When you and the family lived in Hicksville, New York, I was outside playing in the backyard, chasing Princess. Somehow, I got scared and tried to climb over the fence. In the process, I cut my upper chest near my neck. I remember screaming because I saw the blood running down, but you, Richie, came to me right away. You said, “Get up, it’s nothing!”
At that moment, I was just a confused little girl—but I trusted you completely. You had such a warm, calm, and loving way about you that instantly made me feel safe.
Every birthday came; knew he would send me a card with lottery tickets, hoping I would win something but nada. This is something I will miss the most!
You will be sorely missed—not just by me, but by everyone whose life you touched. Your strength, your humor, and your love will live on in our hearts forever.
Fly free, Uncle Richie, with all my love.
There’s one memory that has stayed with me all these years. When you and the family lived in Hicksville, New York, I was outside playing in the backyard, chasing Princess. Somehow, I got scared and tried to climb over the fence. In the process, I cut my upper chest near my neck. I remember screaming because I saw the blood running down, but you, Richie, came to me right away. You said, “Get up, it’s nothing!”
At that moment, I was just a confused little girl—but I trusted you completely. You had such a warm, calm, and loving way about you that instantly made me feel safe.
Every birthday came; knew he would send me a card with lottery tickets, hoping I would win something but nada. This is something I will miss the most!
You will be sorely missed—not just by me, but by everyone whose life you touched. Your strength, your humor, and your love will live on in our hearts forever.
Fly free, Uncle Richie, with all my love.