Mom Ruth Pearl Rickard Capaccio

Ruth Pearl Rickard Capaccio died after a long illness Sunday January 27th 2008 at 1:05 PM. Get your pans out and made a dish of bread pudding and remember the wonderful days we had.

Ruth Pearl Capaccio, was born in Northfield NY the daughter of Katherine and Amasa Rickard in 1916. She grew up on the farm with her two sisters and two brothers. After graduating from Walton Central School, she attended Oneonta Normal School. Her teaching career began in a one room school near Walton where she had to go in early to start the fire and cook lunch for her students. Her stories of these Depression years about students without enough to eat showed the compassion and purpose with which she led her life. Ruth’s future husband, Vincent Capaccio, worked with Ruth’s sister-in-law Vera in a barber and beauty shop; he met Ruth when he brought Vera to visit her in the hospital while she was in a coma following a terrible car accident. Ruth married Vincent on January 11, 1942 the day so cold that our family remembers as “the day the wine froze”. Ruth returned to the farm while, Vincent served in England during WWII, and tended her young children. After the war they settled in Sidney where she continued to nurture her five children while her husband attended college under the GI Bill. When her children were older Ruth returned to teaching at Sidney Central School. She attended SUNY Oneonta at night to become permanently certified as a teacher. After many rewarding years she retired and enjoyed life as a Snow Bird with her husband migrating annually to Rotonda, Florida. She and Vincent also enjoyed many European trips. Home in Sidney over the summers, she presided over Sunday dinners with the family, always topped off by her famous bread pudding, and spent weeks with her grandchildren that they will always treasure. With advancing age, Ruth, always a great reader and crossword puzzle solver, suffered keenly from the loss of her eyesight due to the ravages of macular degeneration. She and Vincent lived with their daughter Alicia for several years and then the NYS Veterans Home in Oxford. Vincent passed away in 2002, and Ruth has now joined him.
     She is survived by her five children and their spouses: Mary Ann & Michael Prucnal of Pasadena MD, Vincent and Cynthia Capaccio of Raphine VA, Anthony and Helen Capaccio or Norwich, Alicia and Thomas Pritchard of Albany, and Theresa and Robert Petrocelli of Pasadena, MD. She has ten grandchildren, and eight great grand children. She is also survived by her brother Arthur Richard of Florida
     Her family and all those who were touched by Ruth will always remember her as a loving mother and faithful spouse, with a wise, gentle and generous spirit.
     Memorial contributions may be made in her name to:
            National Eye Institute
            Building 31, Room 6A16
            31 Center Drive MSC 2510
            Bethesda, MD 20892-2510
     Please enclose a letter with your memorial indicating that the donation is to be used for research at the NEI for Macular Degeneration.
      A memorial mass will be celebrated by Father Douglas Cunningham at St Paul’s Church in Norwich New York on
      Funeral services and committal will be held at a later date.

Moms family circa 1950's possibility taken on the family farm in Northfield, New York. She is holding the youngest child Theresa. Dad, Vincent (Jim) is holding Alicia, front row Anthony (Tony) Mary Ann and Vincent

A family get together at 272 Johnston Circle. Does anyone remember the occasion or date?. Front row Alicia, Mom, Dad, Tony. Rear Mary Anne Theresa, Vince.

It has been a long, personally difficult, time for me watching our mother die cell by cell over the past several years since Dad died, that is also when Mom really stopped living, and I am thankful that it is nearly over for her now. It is now time for us to celebrate our family and realize how lucky and blessed we have been. I recently received a pamphlet entitled "Living Successfully", and it outlined things to do during different periods of your life. The first thing it said under the heading "Prenatal" was "choose your parents carefully" I believe we did. Tony

So what do you remember about 265 Johnston Circle? Mom was .mom, dad, boss, director, physician, father confessor, bookkeeper, and everything else!
      These were the days when dad was in Albany going to collage!
      I remember the day Mary Ann taught me to ride a bicycle. She had a single speed bike that Aunt Tille had bought her ( I think Tillie bought each of us a bike when we were of appropriate age)., So one day, probably to shut me up I was allowed to ride the bike. It all started innocently. I was standing on the pedals and steering around the yard and Mary Anne was pushing. She got me lined up headed toward the school and said hold on, and proceed to push me over the hill! Down the hill across the road I went, I could hear.! USE THE BREAK !...don't remember that lesson. ! The bike and I ended in some slow motion crash no great injuries to either of us. Over the nest few days I learned to steer, break and pedal! Always starting with a Kamikaze run down the hill!
     I don't think mom knew my sister tried to kill me.
                    Vince

I did not--try to kill you, that is. I just taught you the way Dad taught me--Get the bike going at speed, let go and hope for the best. What are a few skinned knees among family?
Mary Ann

I have photographic proof that I learned the same way at Vince's hands! Don't you just love the rules.
Lisa

The time mom got mad.
     Walk softly but carry a big stick. I never understood how mom could maintain control without ever raising her voice…
You probably don’t believe me right? Mom was always soft spoken and kind; never one to even say a disheartening word to anyone. That is how I always saw her. But you’ve heard people say “I wouldn’t want to be on her wrong side”, and this day was that one time I could say the same. Mom got mad.
     We were visiting the folks one February break in Florida back when they were renting and back when Vinny was in high school. We had gone to the beach and while we were there, low and behold, Vinny took off to walk by the water and some time later he returned with two girls. What? Vinny was shy then and hadn’t been one to go out and pick up girls yet. It turned out that he had met two girls from school walking on the beach with there grandparents too! Wow, it’s a small world, and they agreed to meet here the next day to swim at the pool. As mom and dad were renters then, they made sure to purchase extra ‘guest’ tags for company so everyone was legal, so to speak at the pool, each tag costing $5.00 from the office. When Sherrie arrived in her grandparent’s car which had Florida tags, someone noticed and assumed the worst; that a local was here to use our private pool. A sin you don’t want to get caught committing around here. So even though the kids had their tags pinned to their suits, someone came immediately to kick them out of the pool area. Vinny said, we’re visiting my grandparents in the Savannah building and here are our tags, I’m Vince Capaccio’s grand son. That didn’t matter. The Florida tag on the car parked out front was proof enough that some wrong doing was being done.
     Once the kids got back to tell why they had not been able to swim, mom decided this was just wrong. She had followed all the rules. Everyone knew them and knew we were coming for a visit, as it was even mentioned in the Riverhouse newsletter. (See, you can’t get away with anything in a small condo community such as this).
     Mom’s face got red; she began to pace from window to window. Then she asked dad to get her a glass of wine, drank it down and then poured herself another one and dialed the number of the chairman of the board for Riverhouse and then the manager’s office. Words came out of her I’d never heard before. “The kids had their damn tags that I bought for them, they told you who they were, how many Capaccio’s do you know around here, anyhow? $@%&@*!!!” She was upset and she let the appropriate people know it!!! The kids were too upset to try the pool again that day! The following personal apology from the chairman didn’t seem to make much of a difference to her. YIKES
      P.S she never paid $5 for pool passes again
                     Cindy

When I think about Grandma, I think about family.
     When I was young I remember going to visit my grandparents in Sidney. This was an early memory, Lisa and Theresa still lived at home, I remember sitting in the “family” room watching a baseball game at night, the more I think of it, I saw nothing other than baseball on that TV. A snowy shadow of a baseball game that was High-Tech of the day! And when I say “family” room, that’s what it was. I room full of family. My dad sitting on the radiator, Tony on the floor with me, my mother on a chair from the kitchen table, etc. etc., it was a room full of family. The only folks that got good seats were Grandma, and Grandpa, the rest of us sat on the floor, on pillows, or folding chairs. It was nice to visit Great Grandma Rickard in her room, she always had hard candy in a jar. Family night continued playing board games, listening to music on the “Hi-Fi”, and I have seen no better Christmas tree than in their house.
      When I got older, bread pudding may have fallen out of style, because I always remember grandma making banana splits for me, and when I was old enough to drive, Grandpa would send me downtown to get a pizza after dinner! What a treat!
     Whenever we visited, there was a “discussion” about something. Dad and Tony and Grandpa were always voicing their difference of opinions. But it was still in the family room and good or bad it was issues that pertained to our family.
     When I visited Grandpa in 2002, I told grandpa that Lynda and I were pregnant, and we had found out it was a boy. No one else knew that yet, but I wanted him to know that his family name would live on, because that’s what it’s all about, family. Grandma said, “Whatever you do, don’t name him Vincent! Too much confusion.” I didn’t tell her then, but she found out that we did name our son Vincent Valor when she met him a year later.
     Grandma never got to meet Honor, but she knows her now. And I will make sure I tell Honor and Val all the wonderful stories about their family.
     PS Grandma also told me not to name you Vincent, too much confusion. Was she ever wrong?
                    V. David Capaccio

      Going to the Farm. It was an every Sunday ritual. I remember as I got older sometimes I tried to get out of going because Grandpa was sick and we couldn’t go out and do much and it was JUST BORING. One time I was particularly insistent on not going and Mom was insistent that we all go. She said very quietly but firmly, “my father is sick and I don’t know how many more times I am going to be able to visit him”. That was the end of the discussion and we went to the farm. Once we got there at least Grandma always had sugar cookies or molasses cookies or fresh cinnamon buns, so it was worth the trip. I remember picking wild strawberries and how good they were fresh and also how good the canned ones were in the winter especially with homemade ice cream.
      The trip to the farm (14 miles) seemed to take forever bouncing along the road, Mom sawing at the wheel in the old Plymouth to keep it going straight. They sure don’t make them like they used too.
     I was always jealous of Vince because he got to go and help on the farm doing haying and milking and other things, He got the drive the tractor home for lunch. I was fascinated with those tractors. I loved the sound they made. That is why I now have Uncle Arlyn’s tractor, it sits in my yard all summer long and I just start it and listen to is run and move it so I can mow the lawn.
     Grandpa’s garage was also a very exciting place. I loved all of his old license plates. Vince and I got a lot of them and divided them up and we both still collect any license plates that we can get our hands on. The other thing about the garage was the old drill press; I would go out there and just turn it for hours.
     I went fishing with grandpa once in the pond behind the barn for bullheads. I wouldn’t put the worm on the hook. I sat there with my pole with the bugs buzzing around me and finally caught one. I was very excited and when I grabbed it to show it to grandpa I learned about the spike in their head; that was the last time I ever went fishing. I love to eat fish bud I do not like Catfish!
     I was overseas in the Army when grandma’s stuff was auctioned so I didn’t end up with much, but the piano eventually ended up at my house and Antoinette still plays it a little when she is home. The tractor is out on the lawn to listen too. I have a bunch of old tools farm Art’s barn when he finally left the farm. I have milk cans and scythes and lots of rusty hand tools that I just couldn’t leave there, if anyone wants any of them for a keepsake, I’m sure I have enough to share. It’s something to remember where we came from and see how far we’ve gone.
                    Tony

Vincent Capaccio's Family
Home Family Recipes Photos Our Home Links	This is Mom's Page Ruth Pearl Rickard Capaccio died after a long illness Sunday January 27th 2008 at 1:05 PM. Get your pans out and made a dish of bread pudding and remember the wonderful days we had. Ruth Pearl Capaccio, was born in Northfield NY the daughter of Katherine and Amasa Rickard in 1916. She grew up on the farm with her two sisters and two brothers. After graduating from Walton Central School, she attended Oneonta Normal School. Her teaching career began in a one room school near Walton where she had to go in early to start the fire and cook lunch for her students. Her stories of these Depression years about students without enough to eat showed the compassion and purpose with which she led her life. Ruth’s future husband, Vincent Capaccio, worked with Ruth’s sister-in-law Vera in a barber and beauty shop; he met Ruth when he brought Vera to visit her in the hospital while she was in a coma following a terrible car accident. Ruth married Vincent on January 11, 1942 the day so cold that our family remembers as “the day the wine froze”. Ruth returned to the farm while, Vincent served in England during WWII, and tended her young children. After the war they settled in Sidney where she continued to nurture her five children while her husband attended college under the GI Bill. When her children were older Ruth returned to teaching at Sidney Central School. She attended SUNY Oneonta at night to become permanently certified as a teacher. After many rewarding years she retired and enjoyed life as a Snow Bird with her husband migrating annually to Rotonda, Florida. She and Vincent also enjoyed many European trips. Home in Sidney over the summers, she presided over Sunday dinners with the family, always topped off by her famous bread pudding, and spent weeks with her grandchildren that they will always treasure. With advancing age, Ruth, always a great reader and crossword puzzle solver, suffered keenly from the loss of her eyesight due to the ravages of macular degeneration. She and Vincent lived with their daughter Alicia for several years and then the NYS Veterans Home in Oxford. Vincent passed away in 2002, and Ruth has now joined him. She is survived by her five children and their spouses: Mary Ann & Michael Prucnal of Pasadena MD, Vincent and Cynthia Capaccio of Raphine VA, Anthony and Helen Capaccio or Norwich, Alicia and Thomas Pritchard of Albany, and Theresa and Robert Petrocelli of Pasadena, MD. She has ten grandchildren, and eight great grand children. She is also survived by her brother Arthur Richard of Florida Her family and all those who were touched by Ruth will always remember her as a loving mother and faithful spouse, with a wise, gentle and generous spirit. Memorial contributions may be made in her name to: National Eye Institute Building 31, Room 6A16 31 Center Drive MSC 2510 Bethesda, MD 20892-2510 Please enclose a letter with your memorial indicating that the donation is to be used for research at the NEI for Macular Degeneration. A memorial mass will be celebrated by Father Douglas Cunningham at St Paul’s Church in Norwich New York on Funeral services and committal will be held at a later date. Moms family circa 1950's possibility taken on the family farm in Northfield, New York. She is holding the youngest child Theresa. Dad, Vincent (Jim) is holding Alicia, front row Anthony (Tony) Mary Ann and Vincent A family get together at 272 Johnston Circle. Does anyone remember the occasion or date?. Front row Alicia, Mom, Dad, Tony. Rear Mary Anne Theresa, Vince. Remembrances: Send them to me and I will get them on the web It has been a long, personally difficult, time for me watching our mother die cell by cell over the past several years since Dad died, that is also when Mom really stopped living, and I am thankful that it is nearly over for her now. It is now time for us to celebrate our family and realize how lucky and blessed we have been. I recently received a pamphlet entitled "Living Successfully", and it outlined things to do during different periods of your life. The first thing it said under the heading "Prenatal" was "choose your parents carefully" I believe we did. Tony So what do you remember about 265 Johnston Circle? Mom was .mom, dad, boss, director, physician, father confessor, bookkeeper, and everything else! These were the days when dad was in Albany going to collage! I remember the day Mary Ann taught me to ride a bicycle. She had a single speed bike that Aunt Tille had bought her ( I think Tillie bought each of us a bike when we were of appropriate age)., So one day, probably to shut me up I was allowed to ride the bike. It all started innocently. I was standing on the pedals and steering around the yard and Mary Anne was pushing. She got me lined up headed toward the school and said hold on, and proceed to push me over the hill! Down the hill across the road I went, I could hear.! USE THE BREAK !...don't remember that lesson. ! The bike and I ended in some slow motion crash no great injuries to either of us. Over the nest few days I learned to steer, break and pedal! Always starting with a Kamikaze run down the hill! I don't think mom knew my sister tried to kill me. Vince I did not--try to kill you, that is. I just taught you the way Dad taught me--Get the bike going at speed, let go and hope for the best. What are a few skinned knees among family? Mary Ann I have photographic proof that I learned the same way at Vince's hands! Don't you just love the rules. Lisa The time mom got mad. Walk softly but carry a big stick. I never understood how mom could maintain control without ever raising her voice… You probably don’t believe me right? Mom was always soft spoken and kind; never one to even say a disheartening word to anyone. That is how I always saw her. But you’ve heard people say “I wouldn’t want to be on her wrong side”, and this day was that one time I could say the same. Mom got mad. We were visiting the folks one February break in Florida back when they were renting and back when Vinny was in high school. We had gone to the beach and while we were there, low and behold, Vinny took off to walk by the water and some time later he returned with two girls. What? Vinny was shy then and hadn’t been one to go out and pick up girls yet. It turned out that he had met two girls from school walking on the beach with there grandparents too! Wow, it’s a small world, and they agreed to meet here the next day to swim at the pool. As mom and dad were renters then, they made sure to purchase extra ‘guest’ tags for company so everyone was legal, so to speak at the pool, each tag costing $5.00 from the office. When Sherrie arrived in her grandparent’s car which had Florida tags, someone noticed and assumed the worst; that a local was here to use our private pool. A sin you don’t want to get caught committing around here. So even though the kids had their tags pinned to their suits, someone came immediately to kick them out of the pool area. Vinny said, we’re visiting my grandparents in the Savannah building and here are our tags, I’m Vince Capaccio’s grand son. That didn’t matter. The Florida tag on the car parked out front was proof enough that some wrong doing was being done. Once the kids got back to tell why they had not been able to swim, mom decided this was just wrong. She had followed all the rules. Everyone knew them and knew we were coming for a visit, as it was even mentioned in the Riverhouse newsletter. (See, you can’t get away with anything in a small condo community such as this). Mom’s face got red; she began to pace from window to window. Then she asked dad to get her a glass of wine, drank it down and then poured herself another one and dialed the number of the chairman of the board for Riverhouse and then the manager’s office. Words came out of her I’d never heard before. “The kids had their damn tags that I bought for them, they told you who they were, how many Capaccio’s do you know around here, anyhow? $@%&@!!!” She was upset and she let the appropriate people know it!!! The kids were too upset to try the pool again that day! The following personal apology from the chairman didn’t seem to make much of a difference to her. YIKES P.S she never paid $5 for pool passes again Cindy When I think about Grandma, I think about family. When I was young I remember going to visit my grandparents in Sidney. This was an early memory, Lisa and Theresa still lived at home, I remember sitting in the “family” room watching a baseball game at night, the more I think of it, I saw nothing other than baseball on that TV. A snowy shadow of a baseball game that was High-Tech of the day! And when I say “family” room, that’s what it was. I room full of family. My dad sitting on the radiator, Tony on the floor with me, my mother on a chair from the kitchen table, etc. etc., it was a room full of family. The only folks that got good seats were Grandma, and Grandpa, the rest of us sat on the floor, on pillows, or folding chairs. It was nice to visit Great Grandma Rickard in her room, she always had hard candy in a jar. Family night continued playing board games, listening to music on the “Hi-Fi”, and I have seen no better Christmas tree than in their house. When I got older, bread pudding may have fallen out of style, because I always remember grandma making banana splits for me, and when I was old enough to drive, Grandpa would send me downtown to get a pizza after dinner! What a treat! Whenever we visited, there was a “discussion” about something. Dad and Tony and Grandpa were always voicing their difference of opinions. But it was still in the family room and good or bad it was issues that pertained to our family. When I visited Grandpa in 2002, I told grandpa that Lynda and I were pregnant, and we had found out it was a boy. No one else knew that yet, but I wanted him to know that his family name would live on, because that’s what it’s all about, family. Grandma said, “Whatever you do, don’t name him Vincent! Too much confusion.” I didn’t tell her then, but she found out that we did name our son Vincent Valor when she met him a year later. Grandma never got to meet Honor, but she knows her now. And I will make sure I tell Honor and Val all the wonderful stories about their family. PS Grandma also told me not to name you Vincent, too much confusion. Was she ever wrong? V. David Capaccio Going to the Farm. It was an every Sunday ritual. I remember as I got older sometimes I tried to get out of going because Grandpa was sick and we couldn’t go out and do much and it was JUST BORING. One time I was particularly insistent on not going and Mom was insistent that we all go. She said very quietly but firmly, “my father is sick and I don’t know how many more times I am going to be able to visit him”. That was the end of the discussion and we went to the farm. Once we got there at least Grandma always had sugar cookies or molasses cookies or fresh cinnamon buns, so it was worth the trip. I remember picking wild strawberries and how good they were fresh and also how good the canned ones were in the winter especially with homemade ice cream. The trip to the farm (14 miles) seemed to take forever bouncing along the road, Mom sawing at the wheel in the old Plymouth to keep it going straight. They sure don’t make them like they used too. I was always jealous of Vince because he got to go and help on the farm doing haying and milking and other things, He got the drive the tractor home for lunch. I was fascinated with those tractors. I loved the sound they made. That is why I now have Uncle Arlyn’s tractor, it sits in my yard all summer long and I just start it and listen to is run and move it so I can mow the lawn. Grandpa’s garage was also a very exciting place. I loved all of his old license plates. Vince and I got a lot of them and divided them up and we both still collect any license plates that we can get our hands on. The other thing about the garage was the old drill press; I would go out there and just turn it for hours. I went fishing with grandpa once in the pond behind the barn for bullheads. I wouldn’t put the worm on the hook. I sat there with my pole with the bugs buzzing around me and finally caught one. I was very excited and when I grabbed it to show it to grandpa I learned about the spike in their head; that was the last time I ever went fishing. I love to eat fish bud I do not like Catfish! I was overseas in the Army when grandma’s stuff was auctioned so I didn’t end up with much, but the piano eventually ended up at my house and Antoinette still plays it a little when she is home. The tractor is out on the lawn to listen too. I have a bunch of old tools farm Art’s barn when he finally left the farm. I have milk cans and scythes and lots of rusty hand tools that I just couldn’t leave there, if anyone wants any of them for a keepsake, I’m sure I have enough to share. It’s something to remember where we came from and see how far we’ve gone. Tony Vince, you taught me to ride a bike that way too. The advantage I had was that I didn't have to go across a road because I started from 272 and I didn't have a school to run into at the end because it was gone by then. We had an old bike with a stand that held the back wheel off the ground. You talked me into sitting on the bike and peddling as fast as I could and then you gave me a push, I was at the bottom of the hill before I know what happened. It was easy riding after that. Pushing the bike up the hill wasn't easy. I got my bike from Uncle Tony on my birthday, It was a 3 speed English bike with hand brakes. I remember when I managed to wreck your bike at the corner of Bird Ave and Pearl St, I was going way too fast and didn't know how to avoid all of the cars that were in the way so I tried to go around them and ended up crashing head on into a concrete fence post. I bent the forks and you were really mad for some reason (we turned the forks around backward so we could steer and that bike lived on for years...Vince)*. On an unrelated bike riding note, one day when Dom was about 5 and we lived in Mount Upton he was bothering me and I told him to go out and ride his sisters bike, I figured it would keep him out of my hair for a little while because I knew he would be totally unable to ride it and it would keep him occupied. A few seconds later I looked out the window and saw him going down the driveway heading for the road riding the bike not totally in control but he saved himself before he got to the road. Tony
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