Ralph DeMarco Dies at 97

On June 4th, just short of turning 97, Ralph DeMarco quietly slipped from this space to the next - a good death following a long life. Born in Providence, he was the firstborn son of Lattanina (Maccarone) and Silvio DeMarco. His father, with his uncles, were owners of the Providence Ice Cream Company, which produced Velvette Ice Cream- its ingenious slogan being “Smoother Than the Name Implies”. This might explain Ralph’s deep appreciation and prodigious consumption of his favorite flavors and ONLY his favorite flavors. For years, gallons of Signature Select Moose Tracks were stockpiled in his freezer and substitutions were not allowed under any circumstances.

In 1947, Ralph was accepted to Brown University, the first member of his extended Italian family to go to college, never mind an Ivy League School. Yearly tuition was $400, and Ralph lived at home, continuing to work at the ice cream company on weekends to save money. Years later, he confessed that his time at the University proved daunting. The GI Bill saw many older veterans entering into school, and coupled with his working-class background, he often felt out of place. But he persevered, graduated, and found a career in the textile industry. When he was 25, he met and married an Irish lass named Mary McCarthy, who was a real game changer, and nine years later, he had five children to wrangle. They were together for 69 years until her death in 2023.

There are a lot of things one can say about Ralph. He was an intensely honest man, frugal but conversely generous, sometimes to his own detriment. He was a Good Samaritan and rescued an elderly woman who had fallen in the street, while we were on our way to get hot weiners. This simple act of kindness left an indelible impression on us. He possessed Old World manners and was an excellent tipper. He always wanted to own his own business and for a while he did. In the mid-sixties, he bought a slip of land on a saltwater pond for $1500 and a handshake. He and his father dug in big telephone poles and a house that came in two pieces was placed on top of the poles. Voila! - we had a beach house - no telephone, no washing machine, no amenities except a dock, the nearby ocean and sunsets to die for. This proved to be a defining place for our extended family and friends, creating a lifetime of memories for three generations. Let us not forget to mention the quahogs, as picking them became his passion. When Ralph worked, he worked hard but at 62 he retired and that was that and he and Mary became Floridian Snow Birds.

As a father, he was a rule-maker and stern taskmaster, but strangely, as he approached his elder years and we became his caretakers, he morphed into a very charming, funny man. His words took on a curious poetic quality, and his world expanded in unexpected ways. He became a real ladies' man, and women loved his full head of hair and flat stomach. We had trouble keeping up. He was a handful but so beloved, so appreciated, and now leaves such a large hole.

He is predeceased by his two sisters: Christine Williamson and Sylvia White. He leaves behind his brother Anthony and five children and their spouses: Cristine (Jeffrey), Lori, Paul (Julie), Russell (Donna) and Linda. Grandchildren: Talia (Chris), Melina, Christopher, and Brian (Meaghan), and a new great-granddaughter who is named after his mother and also shares her red hair: Lattanina Mae. Later in his life, he decided dogs were okay after all. He has two granddogs: Ella and Dora D. Per his request, services will be private.

A special thanks from Papa Ralph to the second-floor staff at West Shore Health Center.