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.
Rich & I grew up in the same house in Brooklyn when we were young boys. His parents had the bottom 2 floor apartment & my parents had the top 2 floors. After we moved to Pennsylvania we stayed close. As adults we lost touch but then we reconnected & I spent time visiting him in Florida. He was such a fantastic man and his humor was incredible. I will miss him so much. We talked all the time on the phone..
Cousin Alfred
Cousin Alfred
Uncle Richard always been take care of whole our Ricca s side families which I do really enjoyed spend quality of time together during special occasions like Holiday, church Events plus others too.
I always enjoyed to read any cards including Birthday, Hoildays and gift checks for start off our family including Jessica and Zachary when they were birth. Every year Richie always put strach games under 20 Dollars worth of different and play rarely to won any amount prize; highest was 50 Dollars from 5 dollars.
I will always remember of him during his life time into earth ..
Richie is with s god hands including our family who were living this earth time. ❤️🤟
I always enjoyed to read any cards including Birthday, Hoildays and gift checks for start off our family including Jessica and Zachary when they were birth. Every year Richie always put strach games under 20 Dollars worth of different and play rarely to won any amount prize; highest was 50 Dollars from 5 dollars.
I will always remember of him during his life time into earth ..
Richie is with s god hands including our family who were living this earth time. ❤️🤟
I’ve always enjoyed visiting and spending time with Uncle Rich and Aunt Ruby growing up, they always knew how to have fun and just chill at the same time.
I’ll always cherish receiving his handwritten letters at Christmas, filled with updates about his life and kind words celebrating my milestones, and I'd sometimes write or email to him back. It was our special way of reconnecting each year.
Our most recent special memories was when Uncle Rich and Mike stayed at our house before heading to Connecticut. We're truly grateful he had the chance to meet our daughter, who was around eight months old at the time. And our dog, Tazo, loved him too! It’s a moment we’ll never forget, and we’ll always remember his warmth, kindness, and the love he shared with all of us.
I’ll always cherish receiving his handwritten letters at Christmas, filled with updates about his life and kind words celebrating my milestones, and I'd sometimes write or email to him back. It was our special way of reconnecting each year.
Our most recent special memories was when Uncle Rich and Mike stayed at our house before heading to Connecticut. We're truly grateful he had the chance to meet our daughter, who was around eight months old at the time. And our dog, Tazo, loved him too! It’s a moment we’ll never forget, and we’ll always remember his warmth, kindness, and the love he shared with all of us.
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.
Growing up, I visited Uncle Rich's home for many reasons. Knowing his cop background, I knew he was not the one to mess with.
A brief background: my family and I are deaf and use sign language as a primary language. My uncle knew very small gestures, we often communicated through texts (paper/pen, notepad, etc) or through my mom whom can speak pretty well.
One afternoon, my mom was packing up to leave back to our home. She asked my (bratty) brother and I to go sit in the car and wait. We were maybe 8 and 9 years old. My brother started something in the car as usual. I came out of the vehicle to tattle on him to my mom. My uncle was the one who came out of the front door (oh shit! yeah) and saw me incoming. He thought I was rebelling and I couldn't explain what I was doing (for right reason) as he won't fully understand my signing.. before I know it, he grabbed me and pulled me in the air to his face level, I was in awe like it was a cool experience. I remember this vividly clear, I got a better grasp of his face close up. He started speaking/yelling, and I had to wait in the air before I resume to my goal (to tattle). I could catch a few words out of his mouth "NO… YOU STAY CAR… MOM SAID… BAD… LISTEN.." and when he put me down. I wasn't scared or upset, instead marched proudly to my mom to report on my brother and now on Uncle Rich too because he yelled at wrong kid. He ran behind and tried to get me back in the car. It was my proudest moment, like I defied a strict man!
Another recent memory, I came to visit him with my grandma (his sister) and my fiancée. Growing up, I always beg to drive the golf cart but he wouldn't let me, because of my age. Until recent visit, I was nervous to ask because no was his favorite word during my upbringing. Yet, he chuckled, and say go on! So I hopped on quickly and took many videos to show him afterward. One of the video was, me walking close up to the pond to capture a baby alligator, he rolled his eye and laughed.
His house was my favorite adventure (delicious food, games, golf cart, visiting alligators in the pond, oh and many things)!
A brief background: my family and I are deaf and use sign language as a primary language. My uncle knew very small gestures, we often communicated through texts (paper/pen, notepad, etc) or through my mom whom can speak pretty well.
One afternoon, my mom was packing up to leave back to our home. She asked my (bratty) brother and I to go sit in the car and wait. We were maybe 8 and 9 years old. My brother started something in the car as usual. I came out of the vehicle to tattle on him to my mom. My uncle was the one who came out of the front door (oh shit! yeah) and saw me incoming. He thought I was rebelling and I couldn't explain what I was doing (for right reason) as he won't fully understand my signing.. before I know it, he grabbed me and pulled me in the air to his face level, I was in awe like it was a cool experience. I remember this vividly clear, I got a better grasp of his face close up. He started speaking/yelling, and I had to wait in the air before I resume to my goal (to tattle). I could catch a few words out of his mouth "NO… YOU STAY CAR… MOM SAID… BAD… LISTEN.." and when he put me down. I wasn't scared or upset, instead marched proudly to my mom to report on my brother and now on Uncle Rich too because he yelled at wrong kid. He ran behind and tried to get me back in the car. It was my proudest moment, like I defied a strict man!
Another recent memory, I came to visit him with my grandma (his sister) and my fiancée. Growing up, I always beg to drive the golf cart but he wouldn't let me, because of my age. Until recent visit, I was nervous to ask because no was his favorite word during my upbringing. Yet, he chuckled, and say go on! So I hopped on quickly and took many videos to show him afterward. One of the video was, me walking close up to the pond to capture a baby alligator, he rolled his eye and laughed.
His house was my favorite adventure (delicious food, games, golf cart, visiting alligators in the pond, oh and many things)!
My dad could come off as a very serious guy. He had been a cop for many years, stayed in the security industry for the rest of his career and liked routine. But underneath that veneer he had a really "sick" sense of humor, as he would say.
At my wedding my dad and I were standing in a corner waiting to walk down the aisle together. He could sense I was nervous. I could tell he wanted to use that special moment he and I were sharing to impart some last words of wisdom. And that's exactly what he did. He looped my arm through his, and said to me, "It gets easier the more times you do it".
The next thing I knew, we were moving down the aisle, a shared laugh still on our lips.
At my wedding my dad and I were standing in a corner waiting to walk down the aisle together. He could sense I was nervous. I could tell he wanted to use that special moment he and I were sharing to impart some last words of wisdom. And that's exactly what he did. He looped my arm through his, and said to me, "It gets easier the more times you do it".
The next thing I knew, we were moving down the aisle, a shared laugh still on our lips.
Before Rich and I got married, he bought a coconut and a pineapple at the grocery store and proudly presented them to me. He was so openly excited to learn about our Philippine culture he always made it a point to do all the research etc and he always tried his best to make the young and naive Filipina have a little taste of home. Well this was New York in the 70s and let’s just say tropical fruits one found in the grocery stores didn’t quite hit the mark. So he comes home with an OLD coconut that was thick and very hard. Apparently people bought those and just chewed them like jerky. The pineapple was green and extremely sour. With a lot of excitement he asked me what I thought of the coconut to which I replied: “Back home, coconut like that was either made into copra or fed to the pigs”. All said in jest which, Rich being Rich, just took in the spirit it was delivered. Pineapple: sorry. Sour as a lemon.
Fast forward to when we went to Cebu to get married and:
1. He finally tasted young coconut with the very soft and fine “meat”, juice sweet enough to just slurp. Exactly what the natives enjoyed.
2. For our honeymoon we spent a few days at the DelMonte plantation where my uncle worked for many years. He took us out to the pineapple fields one day, took out the trusty knife he was never without, cut a pineapple, peeled it right there and then and gave us chunks to try. The pineapple was warm from the sun, sweet as sweet can be and we feasted with the juice running down our chins.
Richi’s comment : Now I understand.
To add to this little core memory: when we first arrived in Cebu for our wedding, driving home from the airport, he kept looking up at the sky. I asked him what he was doing that for and his answer: “looking for the pineapple trees”.
Brooklyn boy, you were truly one of a kind and you will be forever loved and missed. Enjoy the pineapple FIELDS and climb all the coconut trees up there.
Fast forward to when we went to Cebu to get married and:
1. He finally tasted young coconut with the very soft and fine “meat”, juice sweet enough to just slurp. Exactly what the natives enjoyed.
2. For our honeymoon we spent a few days at the DelMonte plantation where my uncle worked for many years. He took us out to the pineapple fields one day, took out the trusty knife he was never without, cut a pineapple, peeled it right there and then and gave us chunks to try. The pineapple was warm from the sun, sweet as sweet can be and we feasted with the juice running down our chins.
Richi’s comment : Now I understand.
To add to this little core memory: when we first arrived in Cebu for our wedding, driving home from the airport, he kept looking up at the sky. I asked him what he was doing that for and his answer: “looking for the pineapple trees”.
Brooklyn boy, you were truly one of a kind and you will be forever loved and missed. Enjoy the pineapple FIELDS and climb all the coconut trees up there.
Remember: 5 peanuts
When I was in high school, my dad used to feed the neighborhood squirrels every day, 5 peanuts – no more, no less. When he would leave for business trips, he would stick a post-it on the front door, reminding me to take care of his friends while he was gone. 5 peanuts – no more, no less. I never forgot.
(Said squirrels soon became so emboldened by this tradition that one even came into the living room looking for peanuts one summer, when the sliding door was open. Ruby was not thrilled)
For a while he stopped doing that once he left California, claiming that Florida squirrels weren't as friendly. I carried on the tradition, and in every long-distance phone call, he checked to make sure I still fed the squirrels.
In the last year of his life, he started doing this again. First in Florida, while taking a walk in the green space of his most recent apartment complex, then continuing once he moved to Connecticut. We would sit on his back porch every Sunday, feeding the squirrels and the birds while he tried to impart upon me the last bits of wisdom he could before he left us.
Remember: 5 peanuts
Don't worry, dad. I won't forget.
When I was in high school, my dad used to feed the neighborhood squirrels every day, 5 peanuts – no more, no less. When he would leave for business trips, he would stick a post-it on the front door, reminding me to take care of his friends while he was gone. 5 peanuts – no more, no less. I never forgot.
(Said squirrels soon became so emboldened by this tradition that one even came into the living room looking for peanuts one summer, when the sliding door was open. Ruby was not thrilled)
For a while he stopped doing that once he left California, claiming that Florida squirrels weren't as friendly. I carried on the tradition, and in every long-distance phone call, he checked to make sure I still fed the squirrels.
In the last year of his life, he started doing this again. First in Florida, while taking a walk in the green space of his most recent apartment complex, then continuing once he moved to Connecticut. We would sit on his back porch every Sunday, feeding the squirrels and the birds while he tried to impart upon me the last bits of wisdom he could before he left us.
Remember: 5 peanuts
Don't worry, dad. I won't forget.
When I was about ten, my dad told me an old joke-slash-fable. I had a tendency to act rashly and without thinking (more than your average ten-year-old boy), and I think this was his way of getting a message across.
A young buffalo and an old buffalo are standing at the top of a hill, looking down at a field of cows. The young buffalo turns to the old buffalo and says,
"Let's run down there and [redacted] some of those cows."
The old buffalo turned to him and replied,
"Let's walk down there and [redacted] them all."
The message didn't stick but the nickname did, and he was "Old Buffalo" ever since.
I'm still prone to acting rashly and without thinking, so it's probably safe to say the story didn't work. But I don't think I'll ever be able to stand atop another hill and not think about him. So maybe it did.
A young buffalo and an old buffalo are standing at the top of a hill, looking down at a field of cows. The young buffalo turns to the old buffalo and says,
"Let's run down there and [redacted] some of those cows."
The old buffalo turned to him and replied,
"Let's walk down there and [redacted] them all."
The message didn't stick but the nickname did, and he was "Old Buffalo" ever since.
I'm still prone to acting rashly and without thinking, so it's probably safe to say the story didn't work. But I don't think I'll ever be able to stand atop another hill and not think about him. So maybe it did.