click on photo to read Joe's obituary
A tribute to Joe, from Craig Bradford
Joe and I knew each other throughout high school, but we became especially close by the end of our junior year. That summer, Dave Buck, Joe, and I went on a challenging 13-mile backpack into the Yosemite wilderness to fish for trout. On the long drive over there, they picked me up at the Pacheco Pass Fire Station where I worked as a Forest Firefighter. In retrospect, our souls melded during that trip.
Joe, Dave and I had a great time during our senior year double dating, partying, shooting pigeons and quail on Joe's ranch, raising goats and pigs, and getting ready to graduate. We missed Leroy Ward, who graduated one year ahead of us in 1961. I felt blessed to spend a lot of time with the Falcone family that year. Of course Joe was our Senior Class President, which made things even more enjoyable for the rest of us. We went our separate ways for our first year of college when I attended U.C. Berkeley, Joe became a student at San Jose State, Dave Buck chose the University of the Pacific, and Leroy Ward continued to play football and chase girls at Cal Poly.
Joe and I became roommates during the second semester of our sophomore year in college. We lived in the Wheeler Apartments on Fifth Street just about a half mile from San Jose State University. What a wild time that was! Hal Evans often joined in the fun, and Leroy would come up on weekends to share the air with us. We lucked out . . didn't end up in jail. Yes, the hospital, but no jail Won't ever forget those days.
The time had arrived in the Fall of 1964 to get serious about life. The other guys knuckled down to become success stories in their own fields of endeavor. I left for the University of Utah, joined Sigma Chi Fraternity, and went into the U.S. Air Force from the Air Force ROTC in 1968 after completing one year of graduate work. During those four years in Utah, Joe and Dave visited for some serious fly fishing in the mountains and heavy dating that Sigma Chi arranged for them. Then one day, just before I entered active military duty, Joe called to say he'd met the love of his life, Diane Piazza. I'd never heard him so happy. She was then, and still is, very special.
We could go on and on with stories like this, but perhaps the most meaningful at this juncture is to relate what Joe did for me. Oh sure, Joe touched many of our lives over the years, but he truly made a difference in mine. I became a fighter pilot in the USAF and additionally a Special Air Warfare Tactical Specialist as a Joint Terminal Attack Controller. In those roles, I was trained to fly against both air and ground targets, and also engage enemy forces while involved in ground combat. I subsequently spent three consecutive, one-year combat tours in Southeast Asia in Vietnam and Laos. Every new day over that long period brought more violence. Wounded in action on four separate occasions, I also contracted Malaria, Typhoid, and Tropical Sprue. Possibly the worst part of this seemingly unending scenario was immersion in Agent Orange, which still plagues me at the age of 75. Upon returning to the United States on the day before Christmas, war protestors threw eggs and rocks at my dad's car as we tried to escape out the back gate of Travis Air Force Base. I was simply shocked at this development, for the U.S. Department of Defense had kept us completely shielded from daily news occurring throughout the rest of the world. I became deeply sullen, could not engage in useful conversation even with my loving family, and remained totally unmoved by everything around me. The world didn't know what the term, PTSD, meant back then, but I clearly was affected. Joe came over to our home at my Dad's request. He tried to engage me in conversation, but I hardly could respond. After a few minutes of this, Joe announced, "We're going steelhead fishing, and I'm picking you up in the morning." We drove for 8 hours to Hiouchi in Del Norte County, where both of us ended up residing many years later. We fished from dawn to sundown on the Wild and Scenic Smith River amongst the Redwood trees. It was cold and often raining, but we caught big fish all day, every day, for 30 days. That simple "overhaul" brought me back to relative normalcy, and I was able to get back into the groove for a productive career. Had Joe not sacrificed whatever plans he and his family had over that Christmas season in favor of saving me from myself, I believe my life might have turned out quite differently. But, of course, I was just one of many. Joe cared for all of his friends. On behalf of all who were close to Joe, his recent passing will affect each of us for a long time to come.
Craig
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Tribute to Joe from Dave Buck
Here is a story about Joe, Craig, and me. During one of the winters of our college years Joe and Craig wanted to learn how to ski. So I took them to Yosemite and gave them their first lessons at Badger Pass. They were not content to stay on the bunny hill and shortly after beginning we took the Eagle Chair (big one) up to the top. We scratched our way down to the first drop off. I went first to coach them how to make it down the steep part. Falcone (who actually became an excellent skier) put his skis in the tried and true V (snow plow) position and started down. His speed took him out of control and he struggled not to fall. His legs must have been pretty sore when he came to a stop near me...out of breath, and definately charged from the excitement. Then it was Bradford's turn............ Not to be outdone he launched himself down a steeper part in the snow plow position. But, the snowplow can't slow you when you are on too steep a drop. Somehow Bradford managed to get to about 10 yards coming straight at Joe going full tilt. The only problem was he couldn't slow down. I started yelling at him to fall down, but not Bradford. Seeing that a crash was unavoidable he pointed both poles out right at Joe. Bradford stuck him right in the chest with his poles and body. They both crashed on the spot. It remains one of the best illustrations of one of the brotherly mottos we three shared, "Hurray for me, and screw you!"
That brings to mind another Yosemite incident. Before Joe could go on a trip his mother would insist that we place a St. Christopher medallion on the dashboard to protect us on our travels. (I had a new '65 Mustang and really looked forward to racing on the twisty roads in and around Yosemite.) It was really snowy and icy even in the Valley so we took care not to do anything stupid. Until.......returning from Badger and a day of skiing we came to the Wawona Tunnel. Inside the tunnel road was dry and I used it to speed up. Bad idea. When we came to the exit the water drainage from the top of the exit had formed a sheet of black ice. When we hit it I lost control of the car and we spun around completely out of control. The windows were open. St. Christopher made a hasty exit sliding across the dashboard and out the window. We frequently recalled the lesson "When St. Christopher leaves the car, it's time to get out yourself."
So many memories of my friend Joe Falcone.
Dave Buck
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Tribute to Joe from Hal Evans
Joe Falcone was one of the most wonderful people to come into my life. He wasn't like a brother to me, he was my brother. If you had the opportunity to meet him, you know exactly what I am talking about. Joe was one of those guys you wanted to be friends with. He was a dedicated husband, father, grandfather and friend. He mentored, befriended, and loved many. For over 60 years, Joe and I worked, fished, ate, hunted and traveled together. The only argument we would ever have was, when is happy hour? Joe will be missed by all. Personally, I am still trying to grasp the fact that we will not fish, drink, laugh or hug each other again. With the loss of my friend, the reality of mortality has set in. I am going to tell my friends and family more often that I love them, and I will hug them a lot harder and longer. I recommend you do the same.
Hal Evans
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Joe Falcone's brief bio below
Joe and the view from his front yard
We have our first Grandbaby! His name is Wesley and he is 5 months old. We are thrilled!
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After graduating, I went on to San Jose State University and majored in Biology. After two years, I took a hiatus and joined the Marine Corps Reserve serving six months on active duty. I went back to SJSU and received my degree in 1968. I married my lovely wife, Diane that same year. We sold our land in Los Gatos and continued fruit and nut growing in Tracy, CA. We grew apricots, cherries and walnuts for ten years then zeroed in on apricots. I went into the fresh apricot packing and drying business with a former Buccaneer, Ron Ruscigno in 1977. We built a fresh apricot packing plant which evolved to become the largest in the country, processing twenty tons of fruit per hour. We had 200 employees in the plant and 500 pickers in the field and shipped apricots all over the US, Canada and Mexico. Diane and I retired from the business in 2001 and exchanged our land for commercial real estate, which we still manage today. We have two wonderful children.
We built our new home bordering the Smith River on the North Coast of California and moved there permanently in 2009. I enjoy the outdoors, fly fishing, gardening and inventing and building things. I remain very close to former high school classmates Leroy Ward, Craig Bradford and Hal Evans (Craig lives right across the river from us). I am busier than ever and am loving life.
I can't wait to see everyone! My sincere thanks to Lynda and the rest of the group for putting this all together.
Cheers,
Joe