John Trocchio

Born in Astoria, NY, John and his sister, Regina, grew up sharing a house with his parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles, before moving to the suburbs of Long Island. In high school he was on the tennis team for a short while, the track team even shorter, and joined the rifle club, where he had a lot of friends. He left home at sixteen to go to Georgetown University where he met a nursing student named Julie his senior year. After college, John volunteered to serve in the U.S. Army during the Vietnam war and married Julie in 1968.

He and Julie were happily married for 55 years, where they settled in Chevy Chase, MD. They had two beautiful daughters who they adored, Jennie and Elizabeth, and were grandparents to John and Miles. John brought humor, generosity, charm, and love to everyone in his life and will be deeply missed.

A visitation for John will be held Saturday, February 25, 2023, from 11:00 AM to 12:00 PM at Shrine of the Most Blessed Sacrament, 5949 Western Avenue NW, Washington, DC. Following the visitation will be a funeral mass at 12:00 PM. In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions can be made to a charity of senders’ choice.

Fond memories and expressions of sympathy may be shared at https://bit.ly/JOHNTROCCHIO for the Trocchio family.

“Life is like an onion. You peel it off one layer at a time, and sometimes you weep.”- Carl Sandburg

**Dad- Final Reflections**

February 25, 2023

Our dad was, and will forever be, our hero.

He was the funniest and most generous person in the world.

He was kind and fun... He was our he-man, even when he was – his word - ascared.

He loved his family, and considered people he loved to be part of his family.

He was taken from us too soon.

Even though he wasn’t exactly the ‘poster child’ of perfect health, it is hard to imagine -that an infected scratch on his elbow, a few weeks ago, could have possibly led to him not being with us today.

If he was here, he’d have a story to help make sense of this. He was a great explainer.

He always loved stories, so I would like to honor him today, by sharing some of his favorite ones with you - many of them in his words.

Our dad, John Trocchio, was born in Astoria NY on October 18, 1946,

sharing a home with his sister, Regina, his parents, grandparents, uncle and aunt.

In his early years he was a free spirit, racing through the subways of New York City… until his pharmacist dad benefited from the flu season of 1956,

and moved the family to Long Island- where he was not allowed to cross the street by himself.

He spent his wonder years in a small split-level house (42 Newbridge Road) in East Meadow, where he was adored and flourished.

He was known to say, ‘I, myself, am from New York but my people were from Italy.’

In high school, he excelled in English and writing,

played tennis one season,

ran track until skinned his knee… and was the most popular boy in his class.

At the end of junior year, he ran for class president.

The day he found out he came in second place, he got a notice from Georgetown University, accepting him for the fall term.

He had taken senior-level English, and that was good enough for Georgetown. Unbeknownst to him, his sister Regina had applied for him, because she thought it was time for him to leave home.

Not class president, he accepted Georgetown’s offer.

The first days at Georgetown were tough. He had entered Georgetown as a 16-year-old freshman, with no hope of getting into any of the M Street bars.

His first day in class, he whispered to a neighbor, “wouldn’t you think girls would take French?” …. That’s when he found out that the College was all male.

“Hey,” he said, “there were girls in the brochure Regina gave him”.

But he did meet a girl, from the nursing school, when in the musical, “Roar of the Grease Paint Smell of the Crowd.”

Dad played the drums and Mom was in the chorus. They were assigned to the same car for an out of state production, and the rest is history.

After college, with the Vietnam War heating up, he volunteered for the draft and spent most of his time in Panama.

He was a brave, yet reluctant conscript.

Because he had written 10 term papers in his last week at Georgetown,

he could type like the wind, so the army made him company clerk, where… by the way, with no security clearance, he stamped documents “top secret.”

Since fast typing was what kept him out of combat in Vietnam, typing was a talent he passed onto his daughters- along with other important skills including driving a car and playing poker.

Discharged from the army - he looked for work and tried insurance, where he met Paul Neuman, who became a lifelong friend.

In some ways insurance suited him.

He had grown up in an Italian immigrant family, where the goal was to keep the family close by scaring the bejesus out of the children, telling them about the horrors the world held. So he was right at home telling customers about horrible things that could happen .. to and around their homes and buy as much insurance as they possibly could.

His fear of the outside world carried into his parenting style.

When we were little he edited out the flying monkeys and other scary parts from the Wizard of Oz (which meant we never fully understood that movie)…

In High school, when Elizabeth or I wanted to go to the mall or be with friends… we were pretty sure he was close by, looking for potential kidnappers.

We often saw his jacket in the back of a room or movie theater- not wanting to interrupt just to make sure everything was ok… and occasionally to take us home.

At work, his talent was sales. After insurance he worked in hotel sales then found his vocation selling stocks and bonds and lunching with his compadre, Scott Frantz.

Scott captured these days well by saying,

“people” provided the oxygen John thrived on…

lunch was a “sport” to him and he “played” it like no other!

Lunch is where he had some of his greatest friendships, including Carlo, Bob Dufeck, Walt Williams, Mariano, Jimmy Ross, John McCarthy, Rodney, and so many more I’m forgetting.

When they became parents, mom and dad moved here to Chevy Chase and joined this beautiful church.

Many people likely claim to have the best dad in the world, but we really did. We were his world and he was ours. He had a way of making everything magical. One summer he bought a tiny blow-up pool, an outside shower, and combined them with a slide; and presented it as the most incredible water park- and it was.

He believed in celebrating everything – from good report cards to ½ birthdays and everything in between.

He came to every soccer game, every performance - often with a large camcorder on his shoulder. He loved time with his family, often saying, ‘even a poor tailor deserves some happiness’.

He was the morning carpool dad to Blessed Sacrament and Holy Child, where he invented ‘Carpool Karaoke’ as we sang to 90s country or Harry Belfonte.

He was our dad, but we shared him with our cousins Zach, Ellie, Peter, John LaMarca, Fredrick and LeeAnn – who had never met anyone like him.

I remember once Zach saying, “your dad is really yelling, maybe we should listen to him.” …

Even before we were born, he adopted 2 midshipman from the Naval Academy, Steve Heida and Dana Swenson, whose families became our family.

And 10 years ago, it was his great joy to add Chad to the family, who he considered a son and friend.

While we were growing up, dad and mom loved to entertain.

Amazing people would come to the house – The Tates, Neumans, Wooters, Howlands, Haggerties, Dolands, and many more.

We would laugh and play and eat, tell stories. I remember once thinking, dad spends all of his time with us- how does he know so many people??

Everyone he was with loved his stories, … enjoyed his wit, … and left laughing.

He was a great host.

Uncle Pete remembered dad seemed to have a 30 second rule – saying “I have been in your house for 30 seconds and you haven’t offered me a drink.”

He was the best person to go to when you had a problem.

Before I interviewed to be a waitress in college; I told him I didn’t think I could get the job because I couldn’t open a bottle of wine. The next day, he came home with a case of wine and bottle opener. ‘Let’s practice together’ he said… and we spent the next hour opening bottles of wine until I was a pro!

When I told him I was getting divorced, his response was, ‘great! I’ll retire and move in with you’ (and he did).

When Elizabeth had her second child, she needed some help so dad came, and stayed for three months.

He would wake up early every morning and say, ‘give me my baby’ and he would spend hours holding baby Miles and watching Bluey with John, his namesake grandson..

He was also incredibly generous. If there was anything someone wanted or needed, he would get it for you- usually in bulk. Our neighbor Mary has enough detergent to last a lifetime. Uncle Fred has enough seeds to plant 100 acers of flowers… and he lives in an apartment. Does anyone need 5 dozen AAA batteries?

He loved with all of his heart.

He loved his family and his friends,

He loved Christmas, antiques, and the American Flag… the Rib and ‘Trocchio Green’,

He loved ‘his chair,’ sitting by the fire, and the home he shared with his family.

He loved Sandburg and the Soprono’s, Dickens,

Broadway Musicals and Shark Tank.

He loved being with us and with you.

…But there were also lots of things he disliked.

He told us he had made a bucket list of things he promised himself, he would never do again- ride on a city bus, get a puppy, jog (either alone or in a group), mow a lawn.

He, unlike most people, fulfilled his bucket list every day.

A few years ago, he started his blog, ‘My best friends are bartenders*.’

In his first post, he wrote, “When my daughters were young, I enjoyed spending as much time as I could with them. I was a pretty good dad if I do say so myself. So, when the empty nest thing happened I had a hard time filling up all the new space I suddenly had on my hands. I solved the problem by going to lunch on weekends. ...

…Anyhow, when I am with either or both of my daughters, I am a dad. When they are not with me I am just some guy, hanging around.”

Dad was certainly not ‘just some guy’ to us-

he was our everything-

to me, to Elizabeth, to mom, and to all of you.

I’d like to conclude with the way dad ended all of his blog posts:

Anyhow, take care of yourself

I was in Jerusalem last Saturday night

And could find no sign of you

Anywhere

Some police were here earlier today

Looking for you

I didn’t tell them anything

Don’t take too many chances

I miss you terribly

– Ishmael

…we never fully understood this… but we love it because he did. We miss you terribly daddy.

Thank you.

*Link to dad’s blog: https://mybestfriendsrbartenders.wordpress.com/?fbclid=IwAR2njXmZ7eBeGqp9uEiyQZoIOpmT5HajxuAX5fp7yiY8V6idXMbPloj7h7M