MARIA CIACCIA

Among my friends, I was always the one who still had both parents.  That changed on September 30, 2007

If you knew Alfred Ciaccia, you know the meaning of laughter. He was the man with a million stories, designed to delight children and make the burden adults carry just a little lighter.  Alfred was the man who would greet his nieces and nephews with a bear hug and a question, “Who is the most handsome man around?” He is also the man who liked to play tricks. He called my mother one afternoon and pretended to be a heavy breather. But my mother was one step ahead of him. “If you are as good as you sound,” she assured him, “come right over! I’ll be waiting.”  

If you knew Alfred Ciaccia, you know the meaning of loyalty. Alfred loved his family and carried on the Grandma Ciaccia tradition of generosity and kindness and concern for others. He loved his church and worked long after his retirement passing the collection plate. Alfred and his brother Frank served their country during World War II. They served the slow-pitch baseball association. Together, they were proud members of the Bojacks, a band of neighborhood brothers that kept the Kent Street tradition alive.  

If you knew Alfred Ciaccia, you know the meaning of family.  Uncle Alfred was our family historian. If you were writing a school paper about Ellis Island, all you had to do was call Uncle Alfred. He not only knew all the details but he had copies of all the documents. If you were considering Canadian citizenship, a visit to him would yield the names of 65 relatives living in Vancouver.

If you knew Alfred Ciaccia, you know the meaning of hope. As a teen, he hoped to learn how to smoke. He was practicing out by the barn. Suddenly, there was a tap on his shoulder. Alfred looked up to see his mother. Alfred was known for his quick thinking and quick acting—he swallowed the cigarette on the spot!  He used to complain that he grew up with four women in the house but he was the one who always got stuck with the housework! No doubt he was hoping for sympathy.  Alfred took clarinet lessons when he was young, hoping to become the next Benny Goodman. While he never found musical fame or fortune, Alfred did find a beautiful woman to marry.  Cecelia and Alfred were married for 59 Their five children and three grandchildren are living proof of what Carl Sandburg said—"Children are God’s opinion that life must go on."

If you knew Alfred Ciaccia, you know the meaning of memories. Alfred kept alive the memories of childhood, of family, of tradition. Now that he is gone, that job belongs to us. The next time you hear laughter, the next time you see evidence of loyalty, the next time you are with family, the next time you dare to hope, think of Alfred Ciaccia. And be grateful this wonderful man was part of our lives.

"You have made everything beautiful in its time for everything you do remains forever."