A funeral mass will be held on March 21, 2015 at 10am at St. Joseph Church (16 Poplar Ave. Staten Island, NY). The burial will immediately follow at The Cemetery of the Resurrection (361 Sharrott Ave. Staten Island, NY).
In lieu of flowers, donations can be made to The American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.
John S. Cocoros, 60, of Marlboro, NJ, died unexpectedly on November 6, 2014.
John was born on April 11, 1954 in Brooklyn, NY to Steven and Helen Cocoros. He grew up in the Flatlands neighborhood of south Brooklyn and later spent most of his adult life in Marine Park, Brooklyn.
As a boy he attended St. Thomas Aquinas School and later graduated from Midwood High School in Brooklyn, NY.
John is survived by his daughters, Noelle Marie Cocoros (Timothy Raycroft) and Helena Cocoros (Dumas Torney), their mother Dorothy Ann Milazzo, former spouse, Janet Guerasio, his Aunt Marion, and his Uncle Pete Cocoros.
John was preceded in death by his father, Steven Cocoros, his mother, Helen Travers and step-father Paul Travers, and his Uncle Bill Cocoros.
John worked proudly for the Brooklyn Union Gas Co. for nearly 40 years. He had received many awards and accolades for his hard work, dedication and leadership. He was also extremely proud of the time he spent helping down at Ground Zero, with the first responders, after 9/11.
John was a lifelong, die hard fan of the NY Yankees and NY Rangers. He had many fond memories of playing both sports as a boy and never missed a televised game even up to his last days. In his recent years of retirement, you could find John tending to his perfectly manicured garden or riding his bike for miles along all of the bike trails of Brooklyn and Southern Jersey. He loved being outdoors and staying fit and would not sit still for anything. He was also extremely proud of his Greek-American heritage and would talk your ear off for hours on all things Greek.
Though John left us too soon, his family and friends will remember all of his funny stories and antics including, arm wrestling, skydiving, jumping off the Marine Park Bridge as a rite of passage, hanging out on Quentin Road, playing handball in P.S. 222 schoolyard, Brooklyn Union Gas Co. disasters and hijinks, his lifelong competitive nature, his endless love for his animals, his close and special relationship with his mom, and of course his huge smile and big hugs that never let go.
Our only regret is that we did not know the pain you were in at the end. We love you and will miss you terribly every single day of our lives. I for one will miss hearing you call me Binkster every time we spoke.