Joseph F. Cirincione Sr.

Joseph Cirincione Obituary

Joseph F. Cirincione, Sr
Native of San Jose
Joseph Cirincione Sr., passed away on August 11, 2014 at the age of 90. At 17, Joe joined the army Air Corps, later renamed the U.S. Air Force. Joe fought in the Normandy invasion and the Battle of the Bulge. On return from the war, he married Frances Anello. Surrounded by their Italian families, Joe and Fran started their family along with several successful businesses. Joe and brother, Pete were the owners of Cirincione Bros. Motor Sales on E. Santa Clara St., the largest, most respected used auto dealership in San Jose in the 1950's-60's.
His wife of 48 years, Frances Anello Cirincione, his parents Joseph P. and Lottie Santora Cirincione, and two brothers and three sisters preceded Joe in death. Following Fran's passing in 1993, Joe was fortunate in later years to find love again. Joe leaves behind his loving wife, Gale Pellegrino. He also leaves behind his loving children, Sheri Stirling (Danny), Sandie Mason (Dan), Sue Coyne (Rick), Joe Cirincione Jr. (Kari), and nine grandchildren, 16 great grandchildren. The family has held a private celebration of life.

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Published by San Jose Mercury News/San Mateo County Times on Oct. 5, 2014.

Memories and Condolences
for Joseph Cirincione

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4 Entries

January 11, 2015

My heart felt condolences.My GOD comfort and give peace.
Lawana Cirincione ( little Syl Cirincione daughter)

October 5, 2014

We always knew Uncle Jr. loved and cared about every one of us in our big family. He welcomed us with big hugs and that beautiful smile of his. We will never forget him. Niece Robin, husband Don, grandnephew Kenny and grandniece Kim. Love you Uncle Jr.!

If I could have just one more dance. . .

Sandy Cirincione Mason

October 5, 2014

I'm, 65, comfortable, and content to be an old woman with gray hair. I'm fortunate and happy to be the Grandmother of four, but until August 11, 2014 I was still my Daddy's little girl.
He grinned with happiness every time he saw me, even if only a day had passed between.
What I didn't really realize about my Dad until I was in my thirties was that his greatest joy in life was being a caregiver. For the first 44 years of my life my Dad did all his communicating through my mom.
I just didn't really know the man behind the grin or the hot temper.

When I was a kid it would annoy and embarrass me how worried and stressed he would be about my safety and that of my sisters and brother. His worry just seemed like anger.

We all had to be home from playing outside or at friends houses before he got home so he could see right away that each of us were accounted for and in one piece since he last saw us. His first answer to spending the night at a friend's house was always, No.

At family picnics while all the other Mom's and Dad's, Aunties and Uncles talked or played cards, my Dad would be pacing the pool. Dad was always Life Guard to all and would caution us to stay out of the deep end even though we could swim like fish.

When I was 6, I went to camp with my big sister but the surprise upon arrival was that we were separated by age into different camps. I was so scared and homesick. I tried to be brave. The week seemed so long. Two more nights to go but then! there they were! My Dad and Mom arrived at camp! It has only now occurred to me that it was Dad, the worrier, that brought them there that day. They stayed late for songs around the campfire that evening and then when I asked could I go home too? They scooped me up. It was like a dream come true.

In high school, I would come out to my car after school and there was more gas in my tank than when I had arrived in the morning. I asked my Dad why the gage would be different. He said, " when it's hot out the gas would swell." I believed him for a minute but soon realized he was adding gas to my tank in the school parking lot.

When I was 16, I got a job at Berkley Farms, a restaurant and soda fountain on the Alameda.
My shift ended at 10 P.M. I started for home on my first night and sure enough I took the wrong on ramp to the freeway, suddenly there was my Dad driving past me, and my mom waving at me from her window motioning me to follow them home. The next night they were behind me again just making sure I didn't repeat my mistake.

Dad was known to have a hot temper but not once did he ever get angry when I had a fender bender and I had more than one in my first few years of driving. All he ever cared was that no one was hurt and then he would just fix the car like nothing happened. We all never once left the house without Dad's reminder about the blind spot in the road at the bottom of the hill. Never all these years did I drive away without him watching me as I backed out of his curved driveway.

Everything about Dad came into clear focus for me when our mom got sick. I could see that same love, stress and worry for Mom. Dad never once complained about all the many trips to doctors, or the vacuuming of the house, cleaning windows, doing the grocery shopping. He just did those things like they had always been his jobs. At the end, I really believe he would have taken Mom's place with the cancer if he could have.

After Mom was gone, Dad still needed to take care of someone and I was the lucky beneficiary.
Dad would try to cook all the dishes mom used to make and he would have lunch waiting for me when I stopped by before work. If I caught a cold he would be at my house with a pot of soup.
As time passed we talked about everything, his childhood, my own, we shared memories and made new ones, along the way becoming great friends.
I am so lucky I had these last 21 years to really get to know my Dad. I loved working for him, working with him and hanging with him. His contentment and joy found in the small things in life inspired me as did his graceful acceptance of age and limitations. I am honored to be my father's daughter.

My Dad, who loved being called Daddy, who loved my Mom and loved his kids, and his kitties, Tiger and Mandi, ice cream, lemon drops, Chinese food, my meatloaf, slippers instead of shoes, summer instead off winter, growing tomatoes, watering his yard, chopping wood, pruning anything, cleaning the pool, fishing, taking a drive, seeing the ocean, watching Fox News, action movies, Dancing with the Stars, American Idol, Tiger Woods, listening to George Strait, watching and feeding the deer and the fox and even the skunk, watching the humming birds, telling stories, grinning, and most of all living with, laughing with and loving Gale Pellegrino.

Daddy, I will see you looking back at me each time I grin in the mirror.

I'm, 65, comfortable, and content to be an old woman with gray hair. I'm fortunate and happy to be the Grandmother of four, but until August 11, 2014 I was still my Daddy's little girl.
He grinned with happiness every time he saw me, even if only a day had passed between.
What I didn't really realize about my Dad until I was in my thirties was that his greatest joy in life was being a caregiver. For the first 44 years of my life my Dad did all his communicating through my mom.
I just didn't really know the man behind the grin or the hot temper.

When I was a kid it would annoy and embarrass me how worried and stressed he would be about my safety and that of my sisters and brother. His worry just seemed like anger.

We all had to be home from playing outside or at friends houses before he got home so he could see right away that each of us were accounted for and in one piece since he last saw us. His first answer to spending the night at a friend's house was always, No.

At family picnics while all the other Mom's and Dad's, Aunties and Uncles talked or played cards, my Dad would be pacing the pool. Dad was always Life Guard to all and would caution us to stay out of the deep end even though we could swim like fish.

When I was 6, I went to camp with my big sister but the surprise upon arrival was that we were separated by age into different camps. I was so scared and homesick. I tried to be brave. The week seemed so long. Two more nights to go but then! there they were! My Dad and Mom arrived at camp! It has only now occurred to me that it was Dad, the worrier, that brought them there that day. They stayed late for songs around the campfire that evening and then when I asked could I go home too? They scooped me up. It was like a dream come true.

In high school, I would come out to my car after school and there was more gas in my tank than when I had arrived in the morning. I asked my Dad why the gage would be different. He said, " when it's hot out the gas would swell." I believed him for a minute but soon realized he was adding gas to my tank in the school parking lot.

When I was 16, I got a job at Berkley Farms, a restaurant and soda fountain on the Alameda.
My shift ended at 10 P.M. I started for home on my first night and sure enough I took the wrong on ramp to the freeway, suddenly there was my Dad driving past me, and my mom waving at me from her window motioning me to follow them home. The next night they were behind me again just making sure I didn't repeat my mistake.

Dad was known to have a hot temper but not once did he ever get angry when I had a fender bender and I had more than one in my first few years of driving. All he ever cared was that no one was hurt and then he would just fix the car like nothing happened. We all never once left the house without Dad's reminder about the blind spot in the road at the bottom of the hill. Never all these years did I drive away without him watching me as I backed out of his curved driveway.

Everything about Dad came into clear focus for me when our mom got sick. I could see that same love, stress and worry for Mom. Dad never once complained about all the many trips to doctors, or the vacuuming of the house, cleaning windows, doing the grocery shopping. He just did those things like they had always been his jobs. At the end, I really believe he would have taken Mom's place with the cancer if he could have.

After Mom was gone, Dad still needed to take care of someone and I was the lucky beneficiary.
Dad would try to cook all the dishes mom used to make and he would have lunch waiting for me when I stopped by before work. If I caught a cold he would be at my house with a pot of soup.
As time passed we talked about everything, his childhood, my own, we shared memories and made new ones, along the way becoming great friends.
I am so lucky I had these last 21 years to really get to know my Dad. I loved working for him, working with him and hanging with him. His contentment and joy found in the small things in life inspired me as did his graceful acceptance of age and limitations. I am honored to be my father's daughter.

My Dad, who loved being called Daddy, who loved my Mom and loved his kids, and his kitties, Tiger and Mandi, ice cream, lemon drops, Chinese food, my meatloaf, slippers instead of shoes, summer instead off winter, growing tomatoes, watering his yard, chopping wood, pruning anything, cleaning the pool, fishing, taking a drive, seeing the ocean, watching Fox News, action movies, Dancing with the Stars, American Idol, Tiger Woods, listening to George Strait, watching and feeding the deer and the fox and even the skunk, watching the humming birds, telling stories, grinning, and most of all living with, laughing with and loving Gale Pellegrino.

Daddy, I will see you looking back at me each time I grin in the mirror. Sandy, your "#2 daughter."

Kevin

October 5, 2014

Cara familglia Cirincione,
È sempre una meraviglia vedere uno che arriva a 90 anni. Poi leggendo tutto quello che ha fatto nella vita è incredibile. Mi ha fatto pensare ad una riflessione che ha fatto Giobbe nella Bibbia che ha scritto "se un uomo robusto muore, può egli tornare a vivere?"(Giobbe 14:14,15) La risposta da parte di Dio è sì. Vi incoraggio ad esaminare la speranza che Dio ci dà per mezzo della risurrezione mentre egli vi dia anche conforto e sollievo.

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