Obituaries and Memories
Robert (Rocky) Ulrich II
April 1, 1970
August 25, 2006
Obituary
ROBERT (ROCKY) J. ULRICH, JR., age 36 of West Springfield, PA, was found dead off McKee Road in Conneaut Township, PA., August 24, 2006.
Rocky was born April 1, 1970 in Erie, PA the son of Robert J. Ulrich, Sr. and Barbara Mitchell. He attended Girard High School and later went on to work as a State Inspector at Jensen’s Auto Service in Fairview, PA.
Rocky loved working on cars and was also a former little league baseball coach. He enjoyed traveling and spending time with his family and children.
He was preceded in death by his maternal grandmother, Evelyn Ulrich and paternal grandparents, Harold and Martha Mitchell.
He is survived by his parents, Robert J. Ulrich, Sr. of Newport Richie, Florida and Barbara Mitchell of Palm Bay, Florida; his wife, Brandy Gurto Ulrich of West Springfield, Pa, whom he married September 5, 1992 at St. Mary Church in Conneaut; a daughter, Kristen Ulrich and two sons, Rocky, III and Corey Ulrich all of West Springfield; a brother, Larry Mitchell of Palm Bay, Florida; a sister, Lynda Ulrich of Melbourne, Florida and Leslie Mitchell of Conneautville, PA; and several nieces and nephews.
Calling hours will be held on Friday, September 1, 2006 from 12:00 Noon until 1:00 p.m. at the RAISIAN FAMILY FUNERAL HOME, 581 Harbor St., Conneaut.
Graveside service will be held on Friday, September 1, 2006 at 1:30 p.m. at St. Joseph Cemetery, Conneaut, with Father David officiating.
Memorial contributions can be made to Rocky’s family to help with expenses, envelopes will be available at the funeral home.
Comment (1)
Here in our little kitchen I looked out the window and
I studied my father’s embarrassed young man’s face.
sheepish grin, he held in one hand a string
of spiny yellow perch, in the other
a bottle of Budweiser Beer.
In jeans and denim shirt, he leans
against the front fender of a 1994 Ford.
He would like to pose bluff and hearty for his posterity,
Wear his old hat cocked over his ear.
All his life my father wanted to be bold.
But the eyes give him away, and the hands
that limply offer the string of dead perch
and the bottle of beer. Father, I love you,
yet, as much as I’d like to, how can I say thank you?
-adapted from a poem by Raymond Carver