Photo courtesy of Mattie Zarpentine – Michelle Restivo and her grandfather, Richard Heard of Rochester, return to the Rochester airport on Oct. 25 after being on the Honor Flight to Washington, D.C.

(Editor’s Note: Richard Heard of Albion was on the Honor Flight last month, flying out of Rochester to Washington, D.C., so veterans and their families could see the memorials in the nation’s capital. Heard was joined by his granddaughter, Michelle Restivo of Albion. She has shared highlights from the trip with the Orleans Hub. This is the fourth and final installment. Heard enlisted during World War II and was a radar mechanic. In February of 1943, he was called to active service from reserve status. He was stationed in six states. Restivo works as a kindergarten teacher in Batavia.)

By Michelle Restivo

Our Honor Flight tour of Washington, D.C. was over. We’d visited all of the war memorials and much more.

Grandpa Dick had been thanked for his service by hundreds of people. The little snippets of his experience in the service during WWII that he shared with me are conversations that I will treasure forever.

Seeing and learning so much in such a short amount of time was more than I’d ever imagined. Back on the bus Saturday evening, we started our trek back to our hotel in Baltimore.

I was sure Grandpa would doze a little on the ride back; I’d guess he averages about 14 little naps on any given day at home. And up to this point in our journey, I hadn’t seen him close his eyes once! But to my surprise, it was ME who nodded off on the ride.

I would wake and glance over to check on him, and there he was – looking out the window, or around the bus, wide eyed as ever. I don’t think he wanted to miss a thing of this trip, and his adrenaline must have kept him going long after he felt tired.

Photos courtesy of Michelle Restivo – A big crowd gathered at the airport to greet the Veterans on the Honor Flight.

Since our delayed start earlier in the morning had put us far behind schedule, we didn’t have much time in our room before heading down to dinner. A quick freshen up, and we were off again.

Honor Flight Rochester kept our momentum going, we had heard about the delicious turkey dinner awaiting us in the ballroom. We made a quick stop to cash in our drink tickets at the bar. (The Veterans literally paid for nothing on this trip. And why would they – they have already paid so much in their time and sacrifice!)

Walking in, I could almost see these soldiers back in time. Dressed in uniform, gathering with their comrades at a local watering hole on a base or while deployed.

We found a table to join, and I enjoyed hearing the men swap stories of their time and place in the service. It’s really difficult for Grandpa to hear in situations like a dinner party, the background noise muffles all conversation. But, the men tried to include him in their conversations as much as possible.

During our trip, I quickly became adept at being Grandpa’s interpreter, as he called me. I made sure to sit on his “good side”. That way, I could lean in and relay what was being said to him so that he could reply. His voice is incredibly soft these days, so I would often have to repeat what he said to the others at the table. It was an interesting way to hold a conversation, that’s for sure.

After dinner, we retired to our room for the evening. It was pretty cool sharing a room with Grandpa. He is such an interesting guy and watching him putter around was very entertaining. He even shared some hilarious stories with me, about some of his shenanigans while he was in the service. Those are best kept out of print, we decided.

The next morning at breakfast, we heard stories of several Vets who closed down the bar the night before, what a great time they had! Our bus was second to leave the hotel for the airport, so we remained in the breakfast room chatting at a table with two other Vets and their guardians. They seemed to know each other, and since it was quiet with just us in the room, Grandpa was able to participate freely in the conversation.

They again traded stories of their time serving, and then of course the conversation turned to their life after service. Grandpa enjoyed talking with them about Albion; one of the men knew people there through his business. They talked a lot about the way town used to be, establishments that were there that I’d never heard of, people whose names I recognized but didn’t really know. It was fun little trip back in Albion’s history for me.

Our flight back to Rochester was uneventful, and right on time. Grandpa did catch some shut-eye this time; I think the previous day’s events were finally catching up to him. After landing, our trip leaders gave instructions for us to meet by the ramp heading toward security and we would enter the airport as a group. More than once, we heard the volunteers say, “The best is yet to come.”

How could anything top the experiences we’d just had? I knew that Honor Flight invited the public to welcome the group home, and that is special for sure. But I had no idea of what the organization really had planned.

Similar to our arrival into the Baltimore airport, there were people cheering for the Veterans as we exited the plane in Rochester. Waving flags and reaching out their hands. Still staying, “Thank you for your service, sir,” but this time adding, “Welcome home.”

We made our way through a line of distinguished individuals: a retired Army general, a Monroe County executive, a news anchor, an American Legion Post president, and the president of Rochester Honor Flight. Then, the president made an announcement to our group, and I finally realized just what was to come.

Lucille Bloom holds a picture of Richard Heard from when he visited the World War II Memorial in Washington on Oct. 24. She was among the greeters to see him when he returned.

“Ladies and gentleman, we can’t thank you enough for your service. We are so grateful for all that you sacrificed for our freedom. We know many of you returned home after your time in the service, to no fanfare, no thank yous, and that some of you, you returned home to protests of your service and opposition to you, the soldiers. Here is the homecoming you all deserved. Welcome home, and thank you for your service. Now, go enjoy your welcome home party.”

I could hear strains of a brass band playing and we all pushed forward into the airport. What was to come was a scene like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Hundreds of people lining the sides of our pathway, all cheering, “Welcome home! Thank you!”

Included in this first group that we saw was our family. My grandma was there in the front row, holding a picture of Grandpa Dick in front of the WWII memorial. We spotted many of Grandpa’s family members in the crowd, cheering for him and all of the Veterans, welcoming them home.

The smiles I saw Grandpa give during these few minutes were some of the biggest I’ve ever seen. We continued on our way, moving through the cheering crowd. Each time we rounded a corner, went down another hallway, even riding the elevator down to the next level, we saw more people.

There was a flag line by the Patriot Guard riders, girl and boy scout troops, Knights of Columbus presenting their swords, a brass band playing patriotic songs, previous Honor Flight participants, a second flag line by I don’t even know who, a color guard of ROTC cadets, and hundreds of people holding flags and signs.

At one point, we passed a group of school children and I could hear them saying things like, “Is that my guy? What does his nametag say? There’s mine!” I quickly deduced that these were some of the kids who had written letters to the Vets for their mail call the day before.

I leaned down to tell Grandpa this, and he stretched his hand out for me to push him closer to the side so he could see the kids better and shake their hands. Many of the kids held handmade signs, and all of them were cheering and smiling. It was surreal.

A belated welcome home celebration for those men and women most deserving of our gratitude, so amazing that my words cannot even describe it.

After what I can estimate to be 20 minutes, we arrived at our final destination, the international room of the Rochester Airport. We heard from several speakers, including Brian Mitchell as the keynote. He is a Korean War Veteran, and Legion Post President. In his speech, Mr. Mitchell talked a lot about the “Greatest Generation,” people who came of age during the Great Depression and lived during the WWII era. Again, I didn’t know much about this saying and decided to learn more upon returning home.

An excerpt from Tom Brokaw’s book, The Greatest Generation, says it best. “At a time in their lives when their days and nights should have been filled with innocent adventure, love, and the lessons of a workday world, they answered the call.”

Richard Heard is welcomed back by his nephew, Stephen Heard.

Through my reading and my personal experience spending 36 hours with members of this greatest generation, I am forever changed. What I had previously thought to be an uncommon attitude, my Grandpa often told us that he didn’t do anything special in serving during WWII.

However, what I’ve learned is that this is an incredibly common attitude of WWII Veterans. When speaking of their service, I heard many of the Vets I traveled with say things like, “I was doing my job. I was doing what was asked of me. I was doing what was expected of me. I was doing what I knew I needed to do.”

Whether they fought on the front lines or remained stateside like my grandpa, the theme was the same: it was no big deal. I never expected to hear that.

I am far from being part of the Greatest Generation. Instead, I am living within a generation of entitlement, of self service, of avoidance. Hearing such a contrast of attitude was shocking to me, and it made me appreciate all service men and women even more.

Grandpa told me that when he got out of the service, he spent a week in Florida with a family member. Then, he took the bus home to Rochester and arrived at the station to no fanfare at all. He returned to his civilian life after serving our country for almost 4 years during the war, much like I return home from a weekend away. The Honor Flight welcome home party, although belated, was an experience I am grateful to have been part of.

Jacob Williams, Richard Heard’s great-grandson, was part of the welcoming commttee on Oct. 25.

Grandpa doesn’t speak of his time in the service often, he doesn’t act like he did anything special, and he certainly doesn’t think he is a hero. This trip taught me that every American Veteran both living and passed, should be honored and celebrated, and their sacrifices never forgotten.

We can’t give every Veteran a ceremony every time we encounter one in our daily lives. But, I’ve now seen the impact it has to reach out your hand and simply say, “Thank you for your service,” to those men and women. They deserve our eternal thanks and gratitude, and we should be willing to tell them.

Please join me this Veteran’s Day: shake a Vet’s hand, attend one of the programs put on to honor our Vets, send a note to a VA Hospital, or spend time reading about the service of so many before our time and telling others what you learned and what it means to you.

Or perhaps most importantly, if you know a Vet, ask them to tell you a little about their service. Most don’t often offer it up freely, but as Mr. Mitchell said in his closing remarks at our Honor Flight welcome home celebration, ” With every passing day, we are losing a bit of history. Make it a priority to learn from our Veterans about their experiences. Every Vet has a story to tell, and while not all are dramatic, every one is important.”

Thank you Honor Flight Rochester for teaching me so much about American history and the people who helped shape this great country. Thank you to all the American Veterans out there. And most of all, thank you, Grandpa, for your service and for the privilege to join you on this most amazing experience. Happy Veteran’s Day.

Joe Sacco puts out Christmas album to benefit parish

File photos by Tom Rivers – Joe Sacco sings the National Anthem during opening day ceremonies for the Little League program in Albion in May 2014. Sacco has two grandsons, Nicholas and Christopher Sacco, who played for the Sandstone Park team.

ALBION – He has sung at hundreds of weddings and funerals, and performed in jazz bands since he was a kid. Joe Sacco has used his powerful tenor voice to sing the National Anthem before Little League and professional baseball games, and many community events.

The life-long Albion resident earned a vocal performance degree at the Eastman School of Music in 1956 after 12 years of taking lessons at the school.

“Music has been very good for me,” Sacco said at his home on Ingersoll Street this afternoon. “I’m very lucky and fortunate I can still do this.”

Sacco, a former Albion mayor, decided to make the recording at age 79. In August he sang seven Christmas and religious songs for his debut CD, “A Christmas Gift For You.”

“People have asked me, ‘Joe, when are you going to make a CD?'” he said. “I figure if I don’t do it, I’ll lose it.”

The CD goes on sale tomorrow (Nov. 7) at Dance Reflections and St. Joseph’s Catholic Church. Most of the proceeds from the CD will be given to the Holy Family Parish.

Joe Sacco is pictured on Dec. 25, 2013, singing Christmas carols from the choir loft at St. Joseph’s Catholic Church. He has made that a holiday traidtion for more than 20 years. Harriette Greaser is shown playing the organ.

Sacco’s granddaughter Heather Hapeman owns Dance Reflections and the CD will be available Saturdays from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m. He also will sell it before Christmas in the lobby of St. Joseph’s on Saturdays after 5 p.m. Mass, and on Sundays after the 8 and 10:30 a.m. Masses.

Sacco has 500 of the CDs made. Frank Zicari of Albion did the recording, and Harriette Greaser, organist at St. Joseph’s, accompanied Sacco while he sang “Alleluia For Christmas Day,” “Mary’s Boy Child,” “Ave Maria,” “Gesu Bambino,” “The Lord’s Prayer,” “O Holy Night,” and “The Birthday Of A King.”

Sacco didn’t pursued music as a career, although it has been a passion. He worked 10 years as an Albion police officer, and then 10 years as transportation director for Albion Central School. When the district decided to contract out transportation services, Sacco was out of a job until he was hired by the Genesee County ARC. He worked there 22 years as director of transportation until finally retiring last year at age 78.

He played saxophone and sang in the house bands at the former Apple Grove Inn in Medina for 15 years, and the Moose Club for 10 years.

Sacco is shown singing “Birthday of the King” when he was the featured soloist during a Christmas Mass at the church on Dec. 25, 2013.

Sacco said his older brother Peter was a big influence in developing his musical skills. Peter Sacco earned a doctorate in music and taught in college in San Diego.
Joe tagged along at his brother’s band gigs, playing clarinet when he was 9 and 10 with his brother, who performed at many local taverns.

Joe has stayed in Albion and these days does most of his singing at church and for community events. He said he quit smoking 40 years ago and credited that decision for giving him longevity as a public performer.

He will be part of a Dec. 6 Eastman at Albion concert at the First Presbyterian Church of Albion. His CD will be for sale at the event, and Sacco will perform with other community members during the 3 p.m. concert.

(Editor’s Note: Michelle Restivo of Albion joined her grandfather, Richard “Dick” Heard, on the Honor Flight this past weekend from Rochester to Washington, D.C. Heard, 91, is a life-long Albion resident who lives in his childhood home. He enlisted during World War II and was a radar mechanic. In February of 1943, he was called to active service from reserve status. He was stationed in six states throughout his time serving. Restivo is a kindergarten teacher in Batavia.)

By Michelle Restivo

ROCHESTER – “Folks, we’ve got a slight problem, but nothing we can’t handle.”

Steve, our Honor Flight trip leader, addressed the 54 American Veterans and their guardians at the airport gate early this past Saturday morning.

My Grandpa Dick and I were among the group waiting to board a plane to begin our Honor Flight trip to Washington DC. Our pilot had called in sick! The backup pilot was completing his FAA mandated 10-hour crew rest, and would be unable to fly our plane until 10 a.m., 4 hours later than our scheduled departure time.

The 4 other local Southwest pilots were already out on flights for the morning. So, we settled in for a bit of a wait.

Michelle Restivo and Richard Heard pose for a “selfie” from their seats on the plane.

The Rochester Honor Flight Organization is amazing. Now that I’ve seen it in action, I am in total awe. These people bend over backwards while standing on their heads, to accommodate and please our Veterans.

Soon after the delay was announced, HFO volunteers started coming around offering decks of playing cards and newspapers they had bought at the airport newsstand. Then, came the start of the continuous passing of snacks, candy, and water.

“What would you like? Can I get you anything? Please, have another.” My grandpa was in his glory. He never passed up an opportunity to dip his hand into the snack or candy bag, and at one point in the trip he had a stockpile of various snacks, four water bottles, and a Gatorade.

About halfway into our delay, Steve came back onto the PA system and told us, “Alright, we usually do this on the bus ride in to DC, but since we’re getting a late start and we’ll be here a while, we’re doing it now. Time for something you haven’t heard in a while. Mail call, guys.”

Just like in the service, he called out each service man or woman’s name, and a volunteer brought over a pack of letters. My grandpa received 8 letters, addressed to Corporal Heard.

The letters were written by Monroe County students of varying ages. He received letters from kids in 3rd, 8th, and 11th grade, as well as one teacher. Each letter was unique in its own way, but all had the same theme: gratitude for his service and his sacrifice.

The letter writers had been given information about the Vet they were writing to, including the branch of service and in which war they served. Grandpa Dick was in the Army Air Corp in World War II. Many letters included personal connections.

“This boy is interesting,” Grandpa said about one letter. “His family was from the Ukraine, and his great grandfather died while fighting on the Eastern Front.”

I took a closer look at this letter, which opened with, “I am merely a high school student,” and continued later, “I consider anybody who was in the military a war hero, whether they were in Europe, the Pacific, or stateside. People tend to forget there were people back at home helping the soldiers at the fronts get through the Imperial and Nazi empires.”

My Grandpa spent his 4 years in the service stateside, and this young man made sure to recognize the importance of that.

As promised, the pilot arrived promptly at the end of his crew rest, and our short flight to Baltimore was smooth. Hot cocoa was Grandpa’s drink of choice when the beverage service came around, and of course, he enjoyed another snack.

We de-boarded the plane and walked off the jet way, to be greeted by thunderous applause and a line of people waving American Flags. The first person in line was a young naval cadet. He reached out to shake my grandpa’s hand, “Thank you for your service, sir.” It was a phrase we would hear over and over again during the next 24 hours.

We continued down the line, Grandpa shaking hands with many thankful people along the way. After leaving our gate, we proceeded through the airport, past gates filled with people. All were on their feet, applauding the Vets with a standing ovation.

Many called out, “Thank you for your service!” as we wheeled by. It was an amazing sight, one that brought out some very raw emotion from Vets and guardians alike.

My grandpa is a man of few words, when it comes to feelings. He would love to tell you all about the latest news story he read, or information about a rare species of bird in East Africa. But, he rarely talks about himself.

Once we were situated on the bus moving on our way to Washington DC, I asked him what he thought about the airport arrival. “That was nice. It was so nice.” Indeed it was.

The bus ride included a box lunch for each of us. We were attempting to make up time, so we omitted our 1-hour stop for lunch. Grandpa was surprised to find a ham wrap inside his box.

“Oh, this is wrap. I’ve never had one of these before.” Earlier in the day, Honor Flight served us an airport breakfast of McDonald’s breakfast meals, and Grandpa had his first ever Egg McMuffin. He deemed both items, “good.” It was a day of firsts for him, that’s for sure.

As you can imagine, traveling with 54 WWII and Korean War Vets is not an easy task. The youngest Vet in our group was 81, and the oldest, 98. Each Vet was provided with a wheelchair, though I noticed some never used it. Good for them!

But, that means everywhere we went, we were loading and unloading these chairs, and transporting many of the guys in and out of them. My grandpa is ambulatory and still drives around town, does his own grocery shopping, and ventures out to his great-grand kid’s sporting contests.

However, he agreed to use a wheelchair for much of the trip, as we were often covering longer distances than he was used to. Usually, once we reached our destination, we would park the wheelchair and he would use his handy collapsible cane to motor around the historical monuments.

Noticing the similarity of when my family and I visited Disney World where each amusement ride had a large area denoted for “stroller parking” and our line of wheelchairs parked at stops all over DC, I chuckled to myself at one point.

Our first stop was Arlington Memorial Cemetery, where we watched the very respectful changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldiers. Our trip leaders told us to look for the Sergeant and the guards to scuff their foot as they passed by our Veteran group.

Apparently, it is how they acknowledge the former servicemen, even though they are not supposed to ever scuff their feet during the ceremony. We looked and listened, and sure enough, we saw it. The inspection and changing of the guard ceremony was incredibly precise and showed the utmost respect. “That was really something,” my grandpa said after we had moved on.

Our next stop was the Women’s Memorial. We had 5 women veterans in our group, and all had asked to add this stop to our trip. Even with the lengthy delay, our HFO trip leaders made sure to honor their request.

This stop is where my grandpa was surprised when getting off the bus was another granddaughter of his, her husband, and 2 of their 3 children. They live just outside of DC, and I had been coordinating with her all morning arranging the meet up. They followed our bus for the rest of the day and toured many of the memorials with us. “Wow!” my grandpa said upon seeing our family.

Back on our bus, we circled the Marine Corp memorial, Iwo Jima, and saw the Air Force memorial from afar. Due to our altered schedule, we did not get off at those as planned.

The next stop was a big one and we covered the Lincoln Memorial, The Korean War Memorial, and the Vietnam Wall, in that order per my grandpa’s request. After seeing all three, he said the Lincoln was his favorite.

Although when I asked him later in the day on Sunday, he said he liked all of the memorials for different reasons, and that he really liked the way the Korean War Memorial was depicted.

It was at this memorial that he explained to us about the very long antennae on the radios that the soldiers carried. Since he went to radio school, he shared with us that, “low frequency antenna was used so as not to be detected.”

Grandpa also talked about Korea as being the “forgotten war” and told us that it never really ended. “That war is still being fought now,” he said.

It was here at the Korean War Memorial, that I saw one of my most memorable moments, my grandpa sitting near a wall inscribed with the words,” Freedom is not free.”

It was a poignant picture, one that really brought tears to my eyes. Squeezing all three of these memorials in during just the 45 minutes we had at this stop was tight (most people only saw two out of the three). It was a bit of a race back to our bus, but we made it thanks to speed walking/pushing skills of my cousin’s husband.

“Hurry up and wait” was something I heard many of the Vets and guardians say during our trip. Through listening to their comments and conversations, I deduced that this was a common phrase heard in the military.

One serviceman told a story about moving out, sitting in the heat all afternoon, waiting, then retreating, moving out again, and then retreating back for the night. Many of them said “hurry up and wait” originated in the military, and that they were all very good at following those orders.

Fortunately for us, it wasn’t too long of a wait before we arrived at our final stop for the day, the World War II Memorial. Our most anticipated stop, and one that exceeded anything we could have imagined.

(Michelle Restivo will have more on the Honor Flight.)