Family Man

Boston coach Doc Rivers had high praise for his point guard, Rajon Rondo, before the start of Game 4. Rondo was the starting point guard when the Celtics won the title in 2008. At the time just 22, Rondo displayed skills that were already advanced. Rivers, himself a guard in his playing days, said that Rondo's mind is what makes him special. "He's one of the smartest players that I've ever been around. Sometimes he's too smart," Rivers said. "But when he's right, he's good.

HARRY KAUFFMAN didn't like to talk about his Army experiences in World War II. Like a lot of veterans, he felt much of it was better not resurrected, too many bad memories better left buried and forgotten. However, some events came out gradually over the years, and often inadvertently. As a prisoner of the Germans during the Battle of the Bulge, he recalled, he found a horse's head in the bucket of soup the prisoners were given for food. A fellow prisoner was a Philadelphian named Hal Albertson, who Harry found out had a child back home.

Services were to be held this morning for Arthur A. Fioravanti Sr., a retired sales executive, who applied Old World values to achieve New World successes. Fioravanti died Thursday. He was 71 and lived in Roxborough. He was, above all, a devoted father and family man, daughter Gloria Fioravanti said. That devotion, she said, came from his Italian heritage. "He was very family-oriented," his daughter said. "There was a great deal of caring and a deep respect for the elders.

Alter Evans, a man whose children and grandchildren achieved in life because he told them they could and then showed them how, died Saturday. He was 69 and lived in the Germantown section of Philadelphia. Evans died from injuries suffered May 1, when he fell from scaffolding while working. A self-employed contractor for more than 40 years, Evans centered his life around his church, family and work, and he managed to bring them all together into a tight and powerful bond.

Along his tree-lined block in Chestnut Hill, Jesse Levine is known as a warm and trusted friend, a devoted father and a respected coach of community baseball and basketball teams. He's the kind of guy, friends say, who dresses up as Santa Claus on Christmas, greets new neighbors with a bottle of wine and spends hours playing catch with his 6-year-old son. "He is one of the most caring, considerate and loving persons I have ever known," said Sonia K. Ochroch, his sister-in-law.

RANDOLPH Nero Mills was the kind of grandfather every kid should have. He had nine grandkids and attended just about every event they were involved in. Not only that, but he made all of his grandchildren feel like his favorite. And he traveled as far as it took to be with them. Randolph Mills, who was an insurance-claims administrator for the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services for 29 years and who supplemented his income with various part-time jobs, including as night watchman at a funeral home, died April 10. He would have been 82 on May 28. He was a longtime resident of the Germantown/Mount Airy neighborhood.

The world of doo-wop skipped a beat Thursday with the passing of Johnny October, a lead singer of the Four Dates. The Philadelphia-based group gained popularity in 1957 with their recording of "Eloise" and "I'm Happy. " They also toured nationally on Dick Clark caravans with headliners including Fabian, Duane Eddy and the Cadillacs. October also was a member of the Four J's in 1963 when they cut "Here I Am, Broken Hearted" and the cult classic "By Love Possessed" - both of which are still spun weekly by local oldies radio shows.

Sgt. Stephen Liczbinski was a street-smart guy, the kind that other officers want for a partner. He was the proverbial "cop's cop," always doing more than required. Stationed in the 24th District since November, Liczbinski quickly gained the respect of other officers, his commanders and the community. And the 39-year-old was a family man. He had his kids in tow at every police barbecue. In the brown-brick 24th District headquarters in the 3900 block of Whitaker Street today, the flags were at half staff and Capt.

Harry J. Black, a retired pressman for the old Philadelphia Bulletin and Inquirer, and a family man, died Sunday. He was 72 and lived in Aldan, Delaware County. Black worked as a pressman at the Bulletin for 39 years. When it folded in 1982, he went to work for the next five years for the Inquirer before retiring in 1987. He had lived in Aldan for the past 35 years. "My dad was a devoted family man who worked hard all his life to provide for us," said Michael Black, one of his sons.

Boston coach Doc Rivers had high praise for his point guard, Rajon Rondo, before the start of Game 4. Rondo was the starting point guard when the Celtics won the title in 2008. At the time just 22, Rondo displayed skills that were already advanced. Rivers, himself a guard in his playing days, said that Rondo's mind is what makes him special. "He's one of the smartest players that I've ever been around. Sometimes he's too smart," Rivers said. "But when he's right, he's good.

Leon T. Mingo was not exactly a poker shark. He and some old pals would get together every other weekend. They weren't poker sharks, either. "He would come home, saying, ‘I won!' and pull out his $1.25 take," said his wife, Della Mingo. "They played for quarters, so the time together was the big thing. " Family and friends were what shaped Leon's life and gave it meaning. Loyalty and devotion were his major characteristics. Some family members and friends who were down on their luck or just trying to find themselves would be welcomed to stay in his home — sometimes for years — until they were able to strike out on their own. Leon Mingo, a Navy veteran who suffered a disabling injury while serving aboard an aircraft carrier in 1967, a man of wide knowledge respected by many friends who sought him out for an education that came with their friendship, died of pancreatic cancer on May 12. He was 72 and lived in East Norriton, but had lived many years in East Oak Lane.

If you were a member of Donald Nelson's family and were the slightest bit curious about the family's history, Donnie was the man with all the facts. We're talking about dates of births and deaths and all the other minutiae of genealogical information, which he had committed to memory and was always ready to share with a story about the old days. And there weren't many bored yawns when he was reciting those old dramas, because Donnie could make them fascinating. Although Donnie was 82 when he died Saturday, his death from a heart attack shocked the family because he was a health nut, always looking for new herbs and vitamins to keep himself robust.

RANDOLPH Nero Mills was the kind of grandfather every kid should have. He had nine grandkids and attended just about every event they were involved in. Not only that, but he made all of his grandchildren feel like his favorite. And he traveled as far as it took to be with them. Randolph Mills, who was an insurance-claims administrator for the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services for 29 years and who supplemented his income with various part-time jobs, including as night watchman at a funeral home, died April 10. He would have been 82 on May 28. He was a longtime resident of the Germantown/Mount Airy neighborhood.

Harry Kauffman didn't like to talk about his Army experiences in World War II. Like a lot of veterans, he felt much of it was better not resurrected, too many bad memories better left buried and forgotten. However, some events came out gradually over the years, often inadvertently. As a prisoner of the Germans during the Battle of the Bulge, he told about finding a horse's head in the bucket of soup the prisoners were given for food. The prisoners were freed when George S. Patton's Third Army arrived to help rout the Germans' final offensive of the war in the Ardennes Forest in the bitter winter of 1944.

HARRY KAUFFMAN didn't like to talk about his Army experiences in World War II. Like a lot of veterans, he felt much of it was better not resurrected, too many bad memories better left buried and forgotten. However, some events came out gradually over the years, and often inadvertently. As a prisoner of the Germans during the Battle of the Bulge, he recalled, he found a horse's head in the bucket of soup the prisoners were given for food. A fellow prisoner was a Philadelphian named Hal Albertson, who Harry found out had a child back home.

John Paul was a family man. Neighbors on his Strawberry Mansion block said that they rarely saw Paul apart from his wife, Sherrell, and that no matter where the couple went, their two young sons were always in tow. "I'd see them at the grocery store, taking the kids to football," said Raymond Marrero, who until recently lived across the street from the family's house in the 3200 block of Cecil B. Moore Avenue. "Even if it was just going to wash the laundry, they were always all together as a family.

JOHNNIE W. FEASTER was a homebody who reveled in just being with his family. Unless, of course, you needed his help for something. Then he was there to offer his services, his advice or just a listening ear. "J.W., as he was called, had a good sense of humor, was always willing to help others, and was a father figure to many," his family said. And "he absolutely enjoyed spending time with his family," which his family said is what this devoted, hardworking man was best at. And his family was extensive - from children to grandchildren to great-grandchildren, making family get-togethers rather crowded affairs.

At first, Edwin Sanabria didn't recognize the young man with a smile who walked into the dining room of the personal-care home in Wynnefield where he was staying. "Hey, bro," the cheerful man said. Edwin, 31, looked up from his lunch. He nodded without a flicker of connection. "It's me," the visitor pressed on. "Do you remember me?" Edwin shook his head no. The man put his face right up to Edwin's. Side by side, he appeared to be a fuller-faced, taller version of Edwin.