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Welcome to the memorial page for
Charles "Buckie" J. Rhodes
April 7, 1923 ~ April 27, 2017 (age 94) 94 Years Old Light a Candle
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A candle was lit by Jenny
on April 28, 2017 8:32 PM
Grandpa, When I was a little girl, I thought you were God – literally. In Our Lady of Mount Carmel school we were taught that Jesus would come back as any of us. I learned about Jesus, his life, what he stood for –kindness, generosity, mercy, and unconditional love – and I thought “there can be no person on God’s green earth that more closely resembles Jesus than Grandpa Charlie.” In your 94 years of life, there has never been a time that you wallowed in your situation or felt an ounce of self-pity. And you didn’t have an easy life – by any standard. You grew up very humbly and many would say “very poor” in Virginia, but you didn't see it that way. You spoke fondly about waking up at 5am to "make the bread" and tend to the animals and corn. You loved your Grandmother dearly, who raised you in your early years because your mother died when you were seven. You grew up in the Great Depression. Your father had to move and to work in New York because he couldn’t feed his seven children with the work available in Virginia. You and a few of your seven siblings made a difficult choice to leave Virginia and live with your father. But even then, your father had to work so much that he couldn’t watch after the children who came up to NY, and Grandpa and his siblings ended up in an Orphanage. You would think that someone with that kind of childhood would be sad or resentful. But not you. You were anything but. You always spoke proudly of the nuns at the Orphanage, saying they took very good care of you and you learned a great deal from them about how to be a good Catholic. Secretly, I thought to myself “and I’m sure they learned as much from you.” Grandpa, you were the kind of person that always had a smile on your face despite difficult circumstances. You served as a Navy Medic in WWII in Okinawa. You were very grateful for this experience and Lord only knows how many lives you saved. There was one story you always told about guarding a Japanese man. You “kept looking at him like ‘why did you do this? You didn’t have to do that.’” And the man looked back at you as if to say “I don’t know.” You never thought of hurting this man, as many would. You were slow to anger and quick to forgive.
When you met Grandma Tina at the Five and Dime store in NY, you remarked about her arms. You said she had such beautiful arms for holding children. It was love at first sight. At first Grandma was afraid to bring you home because her father, Nicola, said “no Irish in this house.” But once Grandpa Piccirilli took one look at you, he knew your heart and soul. He took you under his wing and called you “Son.” He got you a job at Public Service, along with him. And gave you some very important advice: “He said: ‘Son, what you see, you don’t see. And what you hear, you don’t hear.’” Grandpa never forgot this. You took your father in law all over – to Newark to get the special grapes to make the wine. And when none of his sons wanted to make the wine – of course, they were mostly Hollywood Ladies’ men by then (and I mean that in the best way) – you were more than happy to oblige. You loved Grandma Filomena more than anything. You always said: “she could make a meal out of scraps that would be fit for a King” – the escarole and beans were your favorite. You often remarked: “Grandma Filomena would have loved you, boy, and I only wish I took her to play her numbers more than I did.”
As a Grandfather, I could not ask for a better man – and, indeed, none could ever exist. You worked the night shift 11pm to 7am at Bell Container. You would come home every morning with a smile on your face. You would have breakfast with us – and taught us how to cook our first item– French Toast. You never once in all my life said “no” to anything. You used to pick us up from Mount Carmel in his pumpkin colored car and you would put your hands in your pockets and say “ok, now do you want the paper or the jingly stuff?” And we would always say “the jingly stuff” because that would mean more than a dollar. And we’d go and buy candy and gifts for our mom. On some days you’d take us down to Roy Rogers on 440 and after we’d eat, we’d sit outside and play the “Bird Game.” You would say: “I’m thinking of a bird that has very broad wings and is a symbol for our Country” or “I’m thinking of a bird that is small and yellow” and we’d ask questions and questions until we guessed right. And then we’d skip over to KMART singing “flies in the buttermilk, shoo, shoo, shoo.” And you'd buy us a babydoll or something we really wanted. And on other days when we didn’t have Volleyball or Basketball practice, we’d come home and play cards with you – your favorite was Pinochle – and you taught us to play at the age of 8. You used to call me “Uncle Lenny” because I had a habit of driving up the bid and often overbidding my hand. On certain days our friends would call and see if we wanted to go out and play, and as soon as we answered they’d hear it in our voices before we even spoke: “actually, we’re playing a game with Grampie.” And Wendy and Roseann and Jennifer would say: “ You are very lucky.” They knew what a Great man you were and encouraged us to spend as much time with him as possible.
Roseann used to come over at night when you were working, and we would go in your room – the back room that had a couch, 8-track tapes, a TV and bunches of herbal cough drops – and we would play Madonna songs and pretend his flashlight was our spotlight. We’d eat those herbal cough drops like they were candy. And we made a lot of tape recordings of our to-be-discovered “That’s What Friends are For” TV show. And when Jennifer Cioffi moved to the Heights and we weren’t allowed to go that far, you would drive us up there and tell Grandma that he took us to the Park. And when we went to High School you were all about WENDY! You used to drive us to school every morning in your brown station wagon and we’d be having so much fun in the car singing that once in a while you'd forget to turn down Hawthorne to pick up Wendy. And then you’d say “Oh No, WENDY!” And there’d come Wendy running down the block. And Little Marc – forget about it – you loved Little Marc so much. You used to say “Little Marc – he’s solid. Jenny, did you ever touch his arm? He’s like a ton of bricks.” And you loved Sara Jean as well. You used to go down and visit her and she’d always want McDonald’s breakfast and say “Grandpa, I said ‘Sausage.’” And you'd laugh and go back and get her an egg McMuffin with Sausage. And when Tiffany was born – forget about it too! She was the first baby in the family in years and we went up to see her, Carol, Stewart, Aunt Mary, and Uncle Frankie every Friday.
If there is one thing I can say that sums up your advice it would be: “there is no such thing as ‘CAN’T.” I know a big piece of your heart died when you lost your Son. And then another when you lost your wife. I will never forget the look on your face on Wednesday afternoon 4/26/17 when your heart reached its limit. You came back to life twice that day thanks to the EMT and Doctors at JFK who said: “he’s amazing.” But ultimately, the time had come to rejoin his Son, Wife, and all the Angels in Heaven.
Grandpa, you did so much for me in my life that I honestly don’t know how I could ever express it or do it Justice. We didn’t always have the easiest of circumstances, but seeing you always gave me hope. You loved us so much -- unconditionally. It didn't matter what we wore, how our hair looked, if we had make up on or blemishes on our face. Your life radiated from your smile. You were so proud of all of our accomplishments in school and you used to joke that you went thru four colleges: Rutgers, Columbia, Yale, and NYU because you helped move us into each of them. I never quite understood how you and Grandma Tina got together because at times you seemed like total opposites. She used to say: “Charlie, I need you to go to the store, mop the floor, do the dishes, and pay the bills today. But before you do that, go put my chair outside.” And he’d look at her and she’d say: “Charlie, I have to go outside and ‘watch the neighborhood’ (sitting on her lawn chair) with Josie, Rose, Kay, and Mary.” And he’d say: “Ok, Tina, while I’m at it do you want me to stand on my head and sweep the sun off the roof?” She she’d say “Yes.” And he’d laugh and get to it! Somehow their marriage worked for 68 years. Even at the end of her life on New Year’s Eve he went into her room and held her hand watching the ball drop for three years.
It goes without saying that when someone talked negatively about anyone, you never bought into it. You truly lived by the expression: “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” I know in my heart that you are with family and friends, watching over us, smiling. I know in my heart that you will guide me and show me signs along the way. Every time I see a broken pencil or some odd thing that most people would walk over on the ground, I will pick it up, as you did, put it in my pocket, and hold it tight because I will know that it is a sign from you and our dearly departed. I will try with all my heart to be as grateful as you have been for all the blessings, and not to complain. You taught me song: “You’ve got to accentuate the Positive, Eliminate the Negative, Latch on the Affirmative, and Don’t Mess with Mr. In Between, Oh no, no, no, don’t mess with Mr. In Between.”
Grampie, I love you with all my heart and I will do my best to make sure that your lessons are held with the upmost respect. I’m so grateful you got to know Nick – who you described as “a powerhouse,” Angelia, and the little soon to be born baby.
Love always,
Jenny xoxo
Grandpa, When I was a little girl, I thought you were God – literally. In Our Lady of Mount Carmel school we were taught that Jesus would come back as any of us. I learned about Jesus, his life, what he stood for –kindness, generosity, mercy, and unconditional love – and I thought “there can be no person on God’s green earth that more closely resembles Jesus than Grandpa Charlie.” In your 94 years of life, there has never been a time that you wallowed in your situation or felt an ounce of self-pity. And you didn’t have an easy life – by any standard. You grew up very humbly and many would say “very poor” in Virginia, but you didn't see it that way. You spoke fondly about waking up at 5am to "make the bread" and tend to the animals and corn. You loved your Grandmother dearly, who raised you in your early years because your mother died when you were seven. You grew up in the Great Depression. Your father had to move and to work in New York because he couldn’t feed his seven children with the work available in Virginia. You and a few of your seven siblings made a difficult choice to leave Virginia and live with your father. But even then, your father had to work so much that he couldn’t watch after the children who came up to NY, and Grandpa and his siblings ended up in an Orphanage. You would think that someone with that kind of childhood would be sad or resentful. But not you. You were anything but. You always spoke proudly of the nuns at the Orphanage, saying they took very good care of you and you learned a great deal from them about how to be a good Catholic. Secretly, I thought to myself “and I’m sure they learned as much from you.” Grandpa, you were the kind of person that always had a smile on your face despite difficult circumstances. You served as a Navy Medic in WWII in Okinawa. You were very grateful for this experience and Lord only knows how many lives you saved. There was one story you always told about guarding a Japanese man. You “kept looking at him like ‘why did you do this? You didn’t have to do that.’” And the man looked back at you as if to say “I don’t know.” You never thought of hurting this man, as many would. You were slow to anger and quick to forgive.
When you met Grandma Tina at the Five and Dime store in NY, you remarked about her arms. You said she had such beautiful arms for holding children. It was love at first sight. At first Grandma was afraid to bring you home because her father, Nicola, said “no Irish in this house.” But once Grandpa Piccirilli took one look at you, he knew your heart and soul. He took you under his wing and called you “Son.” He got you a job at Public Service, along with him. And gave you some very important advice: “He said: ‘Son, what you see, you don’t see. And what you hear, you don’t hear.’” Grandpa never forgot this. You took your father in law all over – to Newark to get the special grapes to make the wine. And when none of his sons wanted to make the wine – of course, they were mostly Hollywood Ladies’ men by then (and I mean that in the best way) – you were more than happy to oblige. You loved Grandma Filomena more than anything. You always said: “she could make a meal out of scraps that would be fit for a King” – the escarole and beans were your favorite. You often remarked: “Grandma Filomena would have loved you, boy, and I only wish I took her to play her numbers more than I did.”
As a Grandfather, I could not ask for a better man – and, indeed, none could ever exist. You worked the night shift 11pm to 7am at Bell Container. You would come home every morning with a smile on your face. You would have breakfast with us – and taught us how to cook our first item– French Toast. You never once in all my life said “no” to anything. You used to pick us up from Mount Carmel in his pumpkin colored car and you would put your hands in your pockets and say “ok, now do you want the paper or the jingly stuff?” And we would always say “the jingly stuff” because that would mean more than a dollar. And we’d go and buy candy and gifts for our mom. On some days you’d take us down to Roy Rogers on 440 and after we’d eat, we’d sit outside and play the “Bird Game.” You would say: “I’m thinking of a bird that has very broad wings and is a symbol for our Country” or “I’m thinking of a bird that is small and yellow” and we’d ask questions and questions until we guessed right. And then we’d skip over to KMART singing “flies in the buttermilk, shoo, shoo, shoo.” And you'd buy us a babydoll or something we really wanted. And on other days when we didn’t have Volleyball or Basketball practice, we’d come home and play cards with you – your favorite was Pinochle – and you taught us to play at the age of 8. You used to call me “Uncle Lenny” because I had a habit of driving up the bid and often overbidding my hand. On certain days our friends would call and see if we wanted to go out and play, and as soon as we answered they’d hear it in our voices before we even spoke: “actually, we’re playing a game with Grampie.” And Wendy and Roseann and Jennifer would say: “ You are very lucky.” They knew what a Great man you were and encouraged us to spend as much time with him as possible.
Roseann used to come over at night when you were working, and we would go in your room – the back room that had a couch, 8-track tapes, a TV and bunches of herbal cough drops – and we would play Madonna songs and pretend his flashlight was our spotlight. We’d eat those herbal cough drops like they were candy. And we made a lot of tape recordings of our to-be-discovered “That’s What Friends are For” TV show. And when Jennifer Cioffi moved to the Heights and we weren’t allowed to go that far, you would drive us up there and tell Grandma that he took us to the Park. And when we went to High School you were all about WENDY! You used to drive us to school every morning in your brown station wagon and we’d be having so much fun in the car singing that once in a while you'd forget to turn down Hawthorne to pick up Wendy. And then you’d say “Oh No, WENDY!” And there’d come Wendy running down the block. And Little Marc – forget about it – you loved Little Marc so much. You used to say “Little Marc – he’s solid. Jenny, did you ever touch his arm? He’s like a ton of bricks.” And you loved Sara Jean as well. You used to go down and visit her and she’d always want McDonald’s breakfast and say “Grandpa, I said ‘Sausage.’” And you'd laugh and go back and get her an egg McMuffin with Sausage. And when Tiffany was born – forget about it too! She was the first baby in the family in years and we went up to see her, Carol, Stewart, Aunt Mary, and Uncle Frankie every Friday.
If there is one thing I can say that sums up your advice it would be: “there is no such thing as ‘CAN’T.” I know a big piece of your heart died when you lost your Son. And then another when you lost your wife. I will never forget the look on your face on Wednesday afternoon 4/26/17 when your heart reached its limit. You came back to life twice that day thanks to the EMT and Doctors at JFK who said: “he’s amazing.” But ultimately, the time had come to rejoin his Son, Wife, and all the Angels in Heaven.
Grandpa, you did so much for me in my life that I honestly don’t know how I could ever express it or do it Justice. We didn’t always have the easiest of circumstances, but seeing you always gave me hope. You loved us so much -- unconditionally. It didn't matter what we wore, how our hair looked, if we had make up on or blemishes on our face. Your life radiated from your smile. You were so proud of all of our accomplishments in school and you used to joke that you went thru four colleges: Rutgers, Columbia, Yale, and NYU because you helped move us into each of them. I never quite understood how you and Grandma Tina got together because at times you seemed like total opposites. She used to say: “Charlie, I need you to go to the store, mop the floor, do the dishes, and pay the bills today. But before you do that, go put my chair outside.” And he’d look at her and she’d say: “Charlie, I have to go outside and ‘watch the neighborhood’ (sitting on her lawn chair) with Josie, Rose, Kay, and Mary.” And he’d say: “Ok, Tina, while I’m at it do you want me to stand on my head and sweep the sun off the roof?” She she’d say “Yes.” And he’d laugh and get to it! Somehow their marriage worked for 68 years. Even at the end of her life on New Year’s Eve he went into her room and held her hand watching the ball drop for three years.
It goes without saying that when someone talked negatively about anyone, you never bought into it. You truly lived by the expression: “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” I know in my heart that you are with family and friends, watching over us, smiling. I know in my heart that you will guide me and show me signs along the way. Every time I see a broken pencil or some odd thing that most people would walk over on the ground, I will pick it up, as you did, put it in my pocket, and hold it tight because I will know that it is a sign from you and our dearly departed. I will try with all my heart to be as grateful as you have been for all the blessings, and not to complain. You taught me song: “You’ve got to accentuate the Positive, Eliminate the Negative, Latch on the Affirmative, and Don’t Mess with Mr. In Between, Oh no, no, no, don’t mess with Mr. In Between.”
Grampie, I love you with all my heart and I will do my best to make sure that your lessons are held with the upmost respect. I’m so grateful you got to know Nick – who you described as “a powerhouse,” Angelia, and the little soon to be born baby.
Love always,
Jenny xoxo
A candle was lit by Michael Colicchio
on April 28, 2017 3:15 PM
A candle was lit by Anastasia Tea, Alexandra Mia and Cola Bola!
on April 28, 2017 12:41 PM
Message from Nicole, Anastasia & Alexandra
April 28, 2017 12:39 PM
There is in life one chance to find true, unconditional love. Grandpa lived that chance in every breath he breathed and in every embrace he embraced. He shared that with the living and the dead and gave a gift that no one on earth could ever give--save without Divine intervention. If there is ever desire for the proof of the existence of God, one need look no further than this Angel. I am the person I am because of him, because of his undying Love and his endless Faith in Humanity, in Nature and in God. The Holy Spirit blessed him with the Gift that is offered only to those who are willing and able to receive. He shared this Gift freely and unconditionally. As a result, the Power of his Gift, felt in his Gentle, Healing touch, grew exponentially. The Eternal Optimist, The Eternal Healer, The Eternal Father, Son and Holy Spirit permeated with him and in him in everything he said, in everything he did, in everyone he loved and in everything he saved. His quotes are known to all who know him. May Eternal Rest Grant Unto Him, Oh Lord, And May Perpetual Light Shine Upon Him. May His Soul, And The Soul Of All the Faithful Departed, By The Mercy Of God, Rest in Peace. Amen!
Message from Frances (bubbles)
April 29, 2017 10:10 PM
Nicole, your Grandfather LOVED and LIVED everything FAMILY. As I browse through the Facebook Photos that are being posted, I can't help but become drawn to his joyous smile in the Pictures of Him with the ones he loved so dearly. His Face is gleaming in every shot of him when he's with his siblings. They went through so much together and it was the strong bond they shared together and their strong faith that helped them survive through the terrible times. And when I see the pics of him holding his precious grandchildren...I see the face of the most genuine ...most loving person and the most beautiful soul that Our God placed on this earth. How Blessed Are We To Have experienced His Love.
A candle was lit by Ann & Helen
on April 28, 2017 12:19 PM
Message from The Piccirilli Family
April 28, 2017 11:35 AM
God Bless You Uncle Charlie .. You are a great man!
A candle was lit by The Piccirilli Family
on April 28, 2017 11:34 AM
A candle was lit by Jennifer, Nick, Angelia, and new baby girl
on April 28, 2017 10:58 AM
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