Thomas Patrick Ross was born in Brooklyn, New York on November 7, 1917. He was the sixth child of nine, the first boy, born to Patrick and Catherine Ross. He grew up and lived in the house at 350 Prospect Place or as he always called it “350”. Being the younger brother of 5 sisters, he always joked that the only clothes he had growing up during the depression were hand-me-down dresses and girls shoes. When he got older he talked of how he and his brother, Hank, loved motorcycles and they would travel around the neighborhood with their friends riding their bikes. He was a favorite uncle and was very happy to go to his sister Catherine’s to babysit and enjoy her delicious apple pie.
He met my Mom, Margaret, and courted her long distance throughout WWII. After serving in the Fifth Air Force in New Guinea and the Philippines, he returned and they were married; a marriage that would last 57 years until our Mom’s passing. Not only was he a faithful husband, he was a dedicated father of 5. He supported his family by serving in the NY City Police Dept for 20 years and then Pan American Airways for 13 years. He was a devoted father who made sure his children were well educated. He was present at little league games and scholastic awards ceremonies. He took us to the carousel on payday, to Jones beach during the summer even if he had worked all night. His kids came first and he just loved spending time with us. When their children were grown and having their own children, Tom and Marge relocated to Texas to be a grandfather to Cathy and Eileen’s 7 children. He regarded this as his second career, and became known as Poppy. He was present at all the sporting events, the choir and band performances, dance recitals, and was the person to pick you up from school when you were sick. He was the one who had all the war stories and the police stories and would sing to you until you fell asleep. His love for children was so great, he spread his love to the community by playing Santa at the local elementary school for many years. He was truly a kid at heart and believed a sense of humor was the key to living a long, happy life. Maybe he was on to something, as he lived until he was 92.
What kind of man was he? A sailor, a soldier, a policeman, a repairer of airplanes. These titles only describe what he did, and not what he was. To us he was a leader, a provider, a counselor, a friend. We are so blessed that he was our father or grandfather or uncle. His medical history fills volumes. To us, he was the ultimate survivor. He beat cancer in his kidney, his prostate, and his stomach, Pickwicky syndrome, diabetes, and a broken hip. Yet when he finally passed away on Sunday we couldn’t believe it, but he was finally gone. He suffered through all these afflictions, but he never complained. We all thought he had a strong heart. He also had a big Heart! The last time I spoke to him, just a week ago. I asked him, “Dad, how are you feeling?” His reply was “Very good, no problems.”
Eileen said: I will be lost without him as he was my rock in whom I could trust. The whole family will miss him dearly.
Yes, we miss him. But we are not lost. We have thousands of memories and photographs. We will never forget all those perfect Sundays we spent together as a family. Even in the past 5 years without Mom, we joined together to be with Poppy on weekends and holidays, because he was the glue that kept the family together. That is the kind of family we are and will continue to be, his family. Thanks, Dad.
