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Tonight I am filled with a rage...
and an anger so hot that I want to scream at the heavens
WHY...WHY...Why did this happen to two such beautiful people ? What vile creatures committed such
evil upon such decency? I want to wrap my hands around their throats and squeeze the pitiful
life from them. These creatures of darkness should know one thing for sure... once the lie is
told and the deed is done it can never be untold or undone but ripples and multiplies through
time until it strikes the awesome majesty of truth. The perpetrators of this evil must necessarily
live in constant fear every minute of their wretched lives while the hammer of truth pounds away
at them every day with a momentum they cannot imagine. The truth, embodied in the FBI is
merciless, unrelenting, and inevitable. So while I may have moments when my spirit weakens I still
know with my whole heart that time and the FBI are on our side and that ultimately the truth will
prevail and we will never cease our quest for justice.
 Richard Petrone, October 15, 2005
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A birthday wish from Richard's father:
August 29, 2005 ... the anniversary of your birthday... a day that should be a celebration
full of laughter and good cheer. Sadly that won't be the way we mark your day. Instead there
will be a private Mass celebrated by Fr. Rossi to honor you.
Memories of you and your impact and influence on our lives, my life, fill our minds everyday...
everyday memories of you... your passion, your joy, your smile, your laugh, your loyalty and
integrity, your devotion to your family and friends, most of all your Angela... your angel.
I think of your struggle to teach her what you learned from life so that she could avoid your
mistakes… every father’s burden.
And then I remember the day you came into our lives. Looking back now your mother and I were
children ourselves. The first time I held you, you were so perfect, beautifully perfect and
for the first time in my life I felt pure and unconditional selfless love for this tiny angel.
On that day, at that moment you were the meaning of love. That is what I choose to celebrate today.
Memories of you… and our days together at the rink and on the road playing hockey. Playing is
too casual a word for your approach. It was not a game to you but an epic struggle. You
lived and breathed and even dreamed hockey. Watching you during those years are surely some
of my sweetest memories. My favorite photo of you sits on my desk as I write these words.
You are 12 years old sitting in the locker room in your Gladiator uniform, soaked with
perspiration after a tough loss staring away in space. It’s that spirit and drive I celebrate
today.
Memories of you… at the shore… swimming, fishing, crabbing and hanging on the boardwalk.
Everything I do with Robbie is a rerun of what we did. Every fishing line I bait, every
crab trap he pulls up, every wave he rides is a like you all over again. Many times he sees
the tears in my eyes and knows they’re for Uncle Rich. More often though I think back and
cherish the hours we spent together on our all night fishing trips aboard the Starlight in
Wildwood. Back then you were too young to haul up your own line – but you stayed with it
each year until you did. But it’s those earlier years when you were 8, 9, and 10 that I
remember best. You were always filled with wonder then and seemed to be able to ask questions
all night long as we sailed. You never lost that sense of wonder and that is what I
celebrate today.
 Memories of you… and the music. Indescribable… your love of music transcended everything
and included everyone. It was your touchstone and your reference point. It was the love
that never disappointed, never judged, always pleased and was always there for you. So
much of you was music. Five years old 1974 and playing Born to Run on air guitar. Thirty
years later we still stood and shouted fists in the air:
Tramps like us
Baby we were born to run
But there was another line in the song that I always watched you sing at concerts that
made me hopeful for your future. Hopeful because you sang it with such meaning… and passion
Someday girl I don’t know when
We’re gonna get to that place
Where we really wanna go
And we'll walk in the sun
I will try to celebrate that hope today. That indeed you are walking in that place in the sun.
Love
Dad
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From Rich's aunt Lisa:
"On the day that you were born the angels got together and decided to create a dream come true, so they sprinkled
moondust in your hair of gold, and starlight in your eyes of blue." The Carpenters... I remember, although I was
only six years old at the time, Grandmom Petrone's proclamation that Marge had delivered the most beautiful baby in
the world. This was a point of view not to be argued with, for the opponent would lose. After several years of
being blessed with several more grandchildren, Grandmom
still maintained the philosophy that there is still no one to compare with her first born grandchild Little Richard.
Thankfully, from Christine on down to the rest of the other eight grandchildren, none of them required therapy due to
this view point. Today, I will celebrate your inner beauty as well. If inward beauty is defined by the friendships we
maintain through our lifetime, then you my nephew, are truly a beautiful man. Your friends demonstrated such loyalty,
comraderie and generosity during the past six months it was truly overwhelming. If inward beauty is defined by family,
then again, my nephew, you truly are a beautiful man. You would beam with pride in how your parents, sisters, and
daughter Angela have maintained an unwaivering belief that the truth will prevail, have maintained dignity, during
times where dignity would not be an option, for the honor and respect of their son, brother and dad. Yes, I was only
six when you came into this world and it is with my six year old mentality that I will celebrate you. Everyone is
entitled to their own version of heaven, so as I indulge in mine, I see you and gramps, somewhere to the south of the
pearly white gates, crabbing off of a pier, enjoying the day. I hope that you are in a place as beautiful as you are.
All of my love,
Aunt Lisa
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| Archives: 2008, 2007, 2006 |
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