July 26, 1930 – March 11, 2018
Rinaldo Staino passed away peacefully in his sleep on March 11, 2018, after a long battle with dementia. He leaves behind Dorothy, his loving wife of 49 years, and his daughter, Patricia.
He was a good man who followed the rules but stood up for what he believed in, always took care of his family, and did not go gentle into that good night.
He also told a good story. He made a good, strong Manhattan, and could drink a triple espresso before quickly drifting off to a peaceful 10-hour sleep. His mother-in-law actually liked him. He was a proud American and a hard-headed Calabrese. He was a staunch Democrat and an active Union man, and fiercely loyal to his friends and family. He was wise enough to recognize that it was smarter to save for his daughter’s college education than for her wedding to “some bum.”He loved linguine with calamari, red wine, and anything sweet. Late in life he discovered peanut butter, Honey Nut Cheerios, and hot chocolate. His lifelong crushes were Renata Tebaldi and Sophia Loren (and his wife). He was happiest when watching Italian soccer, doing a crossword puzzle, or listening to the opera. He was the kind of man who introduced a 10-year-old to the opera by taking her to see his favorite, “Tosca,” even though all the characters die. That same year he put on ice skates for the first time, at the age of 50, to keep his daughter company at the ice rink.
He was always the responsible one in the room, until he no longer could be. Rinaldo Staino was a great man, and will be missed by many. His wife and daughter will bid him farewell privately. For those who would like to honor him, please consider supporting dementia and Alzheimer’s research.
No services are scheduled at this time. Receive a notification when services are updated.
have a memory or condolence to add?ADD A MEMORY
receive updates when new memories are postedRECEIVE UPDATES
March 15, 2018
Patricia, while I never had the pleasure of meeting your dad, I feel like I knew him through the vivid obituary I just read. I suspect you had something to do with its composition. He must have been a fascinating man. Cherish the memories and, if you can, write everything down. They’ll mean so much more as the years go by. I send you my best. — B. Dantini