Salvatore Vaccaro

Age 76, of Valhalla, NY, died on January 16, 2002 at his residence in Valhalla.
He was born on June 1, 1925 to Rosario and Frances (nee Giorgi) Vaccaro in NYC. Salvatore was a US Navy Veteran during WWII and served on the USS Fowler. He was a retired machinist working for Otis Elevator in Yonkers, NY for 22 years, retiring in 1982. He is survived by two sons, Salvatore B. Vaccaro of Valhalla, NY, and Christopher Vaccaro of Mt. Vernon, NY, two daughters, Ada Marie Furano of Port Chester, NY, and Frances Vaccaro of London, England; one brother Michael Vaccaro of Brooklyn, NY, two sisters Nikki Suarez of Ft. Lee, NJ and Ann Lazzari of Cliffside Park, NJ; also survived by three grandchildren.

His son Christopher writes:

My name is Christopher and I loved my father.

Dad, you passed over a year ago, and to be honest I think of you nearly every day. I especially like to speak of the things we did together (probably to the boredom of others). When you take an honest look at it, we really did do a lot together, even though at the time it never seemed enough I have come to discover that this was entirely my defect. You were consistently there, when others would not speak the time of day to me.

One of the all time winning "rescues" was when at age 16. Rich and I were driving around at night, when my glorious 1965 Ford Falcon broke down on the South side of Mt. Vernon. In my mind, I broke the car and it will never run again. After much hesitation, we called you, you showed up, didn't yell or scold us for being where we shouldn't, but treated us like adults. Then you popped the hood and looked under the distributor cap, you saw that the rotor was broken. We locked up the car and the next day you sent Rich and I on foot, to the auto parts store. We bought a new rotor for $1.25 and with great care we replaced it. Still doubting that the car will come back to life, I turned the key and it fired up right away.

You would think that I would learn to trust your judgment after that. For the most part I did. You also raised me to be independent, to think outside the box and to solve problems with the tools at hand. Unfortunately, there where long periods of my life that I was incapable of that independence. Once again, you were there, just doing what you do, being patient and understanding. I'll tell you now, Dad, this is no longer the case. With the tools you gave me and some new ones I'm standing tall and proud.

When we laid you to rest, I placed a note, in your pocket and every day I continue to work on that effort. Thanks dad, I love you

His son Christopher writes on January 16, 2005:

My name is Christopher and I still love my father.

Dad, It's now 3 years later at 12:12am. Three years ago would be the last morning you were with us. At times I reflect on you last day on earth and what might of been going through your mind, and prehaps how alone you might of felt. And as I viewed your last footsteps, I could see the confusion, pain, fustration and discomfort you experienced. And I was not there to help or comfort you. I wish there was some vaild excuse, that there was some other reason besides my own self-centeredness and my inability to grow-up and take reponsibility. I am proud that you were my father, and you did set a fine example on how to be a responsible adult male, I see that now, but at the time I was blind. You are with me everyday. I have learned a great deal of things in the past three years, I wish I could of cared for you, as much as you cared me. And I sure you can see or feel a bit of my life, and know that I am capable of the tasks I was not three years ago. Times I think about what a kick we would of had fixing up the house. I bet you would of never thought I own a house, But I know you knew it would be a safe bet that I have a mortgage and that I'd get one with no money. Now I do the things, I watched you do, and I know that you are laughing with me at some of my stupid mistakes. I really wish I could talk to you about being a husband though. When I tring to pay bills or set up a budget, I don't think I ever felt closer to you. So many times, I hear your words come out of my mouth. But there is so much to be grateful for today. My wife, you'd like her. She's a loving women, who despite her better judgement loves your son. I guess theres just no accouting for taste! Am I sure you saw Champ by now. I mean really dad, have you ever seen a better dog? And how about when I changed the coil springs on the ford, I know you thoght I was crazy for that one. But through it all I didn't throw a wrench, even though I'm still working on putting my tools away. I have also learned it's progress not perfection. I'm going to post this now. I miss you.