Joe was always big-hearted, ready to help anyone. He was a devout Catholic. He was a foundling, left on steps of the convent in Deer Lodge; he lived with the nuns their until he was five. They instilled the faith in him; he knew all the prayers, and when to do what at Mass. He was at church every Sunday.
Joe was member of the fire department, and he was very proud of that. One year the Las Vegas Fire Department gave us a truck, and Joe traveled with Bud Smith and Bruce Gilmer to pick it up and drive it back. When Bud and Bruce went to collect Joe for the flight, he came down with this big trunk. They said, this a bit much for the plane. And Joe said: “Well, it’s the only thing my fire hat will fit in.”
They got to Las Vegas, picked up the fire truck, and drove to a motel for the night. Then they got a taxi to go downtown for something to eat. They went and had supper, and took in the city lights. The problem was, there were five motels in Vegas with the same name. When they got a cab to go back to the motel, the driver asked where to. But they weren’t sure which of the five it was. So Joe piped up: “It’s the one with the fire truck in front.”
Larrey Lattin
I remember Joe pulling his wagon behind his bike, picking up trash on Main Street. Even when he wasn’t working on the garbage truck, you could find him still working, picking up trash. And he got so excited when Tim Yanick from Phil & Tim’s bought him a new bike when his was lost. I could go on and on about Joe, but it would take hours and hours. Rest easy, Big Deal.
Kristie Sexton
Many years ago, the Boulder Volunteer Fire Department took it upon themselves to provide Joe with sleeping and living space in the back of the firehouse. Joe did basic clean-up in return. The City Council at the time decided that it was a risk to have a civilian living in the firehouse, and it wanted Joe removed. So, the fire chief and firemen helped Joe study for the state fireman’s certification. Joe passed the test on his first try. (There were other men in the community who took the test at the same time and failed.) The fire department then hired Joe as a live-in security guard.
Pamela Herseim-Gill
He knew where everyone lived by heart. He tried to tell me by which colors the houses were, and I could never understand.
Connie Zendron
Joe got his start at the Diamond Z; he and two other guys were out there hauling trash forever. Later on, he would follow my dad’s trucks around town, either on his bike or running. He would go to a can after we had emptied it – and if there was still trash in it, he would chase after the truck to make sure it got in. Dad said, “I’m going to have to hire him, or else I might hit him.” That’s how Joe started working for Dad.
Joe didn’t always have a place to go at the holidays, so Dad would always make sure he was invited. He was a staple at our house growing up. And at Christmas, he would always come with an armload of gifts for the grandkids. I kind of felt bad, because he shouldn’t have been spending his money on that. But it was pretty cool.
And he always liked potatoes. If you didn’t have potatoes, Joe got a little upset. One time at Christmas dinner, while my mother was putting the finishing touches on the meal, she asked Joe if he wanted some potatoes. By dinnertime, they were gone. She started making three times the potatoes after that.
Do you know how he got his name? If you were talking to him, he’d always say, “Big deal.” Just for anything. If you were telling him a story, sometimes he didn’t know what else to say. He was a great guy. I miss the heck out of him.
Bruce Giulio
