Father's Day: For some sons the tributes to Dad are lasting - Newsday

The bonds between father and son are wholly unique and often impossible to quantify.

A father is often a son's first hero, the idol he admires without peer, the type of man he hopes to become.

On Long Island, it's not uncommon for a son to follow in his father's footsteps, whether in the profession they select, the university they attend or the sport they play.

As families prepare to join together on Sunday for Father's Day, here are some of those stories.

In a sense, Randy Mannix DiLorenzo was born into medicine.

As a boy, Randy would follow his father, Dr. Randy Paul DiLorenzo, around Syosset Hospital, watching him interact with his patients and their families. A son's career path was immediately set.

"I never thought of doing anything different just because I was so exposed to it," said the younger DiLorenzo, 32, of Manhattan, now an attending physician and hospitalist at Northwell Health's Staten Island University Hospital.

"I would see him with his patients," DiLorenzo said of his dad, "and the amount of respect that they had for him. His patients absolutely love him and he still has patients from when he started to now."

The pair don't use the junior or senior suffix. Instead, they prefer "Big Randy" and "Little Randy," even though the younger DiLorenzo insists he's now the taller of the two.

In 2019, Randy Mannix DiLorenzo, one of four siblings, graduated from St. George’s University of Medicine in Grenada. It's the same university where his father had graduated 32 years earlier.

Last year, father and son shared another first — studying together for their internal medical boards. The younger DiLorenzo was taking the exam for the first time, and the elder, who also works as vice president of ambulatory services for Northwell's Eastern Region, for his decennial recertification.

"We're very competitive," said Randy Paul DiLorenzo, 63, of Cold Spring Harbor, who serves as the medical director at Northwell's Syosset Hospital and also maintains a private practice in Bellmore.

"So we'd argue over the answers. And it's sort of like being in Vegas. You hit the button and it tells you the answer," he said. "And either you're really happy or you just lost your shirt."

Earlier this month came another family milestone as the son became a father for the first time. His wife, Rachel, gave birth to their daughter, Sofia.

While the DiLorenzo men share a first name, attended the same medical school and have chosen common career paths, they've yet to work together.

That's expected to change as the younger DiLorenzo anticipates joining his father's private practice during his off weeks.

"It will be great to work with my father," he said. "We're best friends."

There was never supposed to be a Father's Day for Ken Kunken.

More than five decades ago, Kunken's spinal cord was severed while making a tackle during a college football game at his school, Cornell University, leaving him paralyzed from the shoulders down.

At the time, Kunken, of Rockville Centre, believed his dream of fatherhood was over. But Kunken's story is one of impossibilities becoming realities, of turning adversity into prosperity.

On June 23, Kunken's three sons — triplets conceived in 2004 through in vitro fertilization with his wife of 20 years, Anna — will graduate from Oceanside High School, their father's alma mater, before heading off in the fall to college.

"It's just so hard to believe," said Kunken, 72, who retired in 2016 as the deputy bureau chief in the County Court Trial Bureau at the Nassau County District Attorney's Office, where he continues to work part time as a consultant. "It's a dream come true. And I couldn't be more proud or happier."

On Sept. 6, Kunken's autobiography, "I Dream of Things That Never Were: the Ken Kunken Story," which details his life story, will be released.

Also in the fall, Kunken's son Joseph will attend Cornell, his father's alma mater, where he is considering majoring in physics; Timothy is heading to the Newhouse School of Communication at Syracuse University to study documentary filmmaking, and James will go to SUNY Morrisville to study renewable energy.

Joseph said his father's injury at Cornell "just kind of connected me to the place. It gives me a place to relate to."

College will be a new experience for the 18-year-old triplets, who have never been apart for more than a few days.

"It's a new experience because throughout our entire lives, we've always been connected with one another, even by close friends or classmates or even family," Timothy said. "It's always been like, 'Oh, those are the Kunken triplets' … rather than just us individually. And I feel like having to pursue our own path away from each other is a whole new territory."

But the triplets are fully cognizant that their lives, starting from a conception that doctors once called a "miracle," are anything but typical.

"We weren't born into the most normal family and we're very unique," James said. "So for us growing up with our dad, mom and brothers, it's just a way of life for us. We understand how spectacular and how unique this is and how impossible it should be. But for us, it's just our daily life."

In Freeport, they keep baseball in the family.

Several coaches in the Freeport Little League spend their days off coaching their children, who also have taken up the coaching ranks.

Danny Ramirez, 39, a New York City corrections officer, has been coaching for about 10 years. He started when his two oldest sons, Enrique, 17, and Dillan, 15, were playing Little League. Both now help coach the latest baseball player in the family, their 8-year-old brother, Aiden.

“It takes a family. It’s like a baseball bond and we can talk about baseball and our experience,” Ramirez said. “My teenagers love coaching. It’s so cool starting with a kid who couldn’t catch or hit … suddenly do that.”

If Ramirez can't make a practice, his older sons take over.

“Even when I’m stuck at work, it brings a tear to my eye … they’ve done something to make me proud,” Ramirez said of his teenage sons. “Sometimes you don’t realize how much time you put into it and you realize how much time we spend together. It’s beautiful. It’s something that can never be taken away, and I realize how nice it is.”

Manny Guerrero, 57, coaches his 8-year-old grandson, Isaac, in Freeport. He previously coached his son, who, he said, “was born holding a baseball.”

“We keep the family together,” Guerrero said. “Having kids and grandkids is the biggest joy and blessing in my life.”

Danny Reyes, 43, has coached in the league for 15 years. This season when he made out a lineup card, it included his son, Davian, 11.

He also helped coach his daughter, Deanna, who now plays softball at Freeport High School.

“They understand what I’m trying to preach to them and to be humble,” he said. “It helps create discipline on and off the field. It also helps with schoolwork. If you can listen in the field, you can listen in the classroom.”