Dennis Palladino
A Lifetime of Memories
Dennis Michael Palladino passed away on May 31, 2026. Born in Philadelphia, PA, he was 65 years old.
Dennis was predeceased by his father, Charles A. Palladino Sr., and his brother, Joseph Palladino. He is survived by his beloved wife, Elizabeth Anne “Beth” Gramigna-Palladino, with whom he shared 14 wonderful years and six years of marriage. He was the cherished son of Catherine Palladino (nee McConomy); loving father of Sean Patrick Palladino (Michael Biele), Colleen Elizabeth Palladino, and Thomas Joseph Palladino; and devoted stepfather of Meghan Mary Reed and Julianna Reed. He is also survived by his siblings, Charles A. Palladino Jr. (the late Loretta), Donna Gidjunis (Mark), Richard Palladino (Pam), Lisa Blake (Mark), and Michael Palladino (Annette).
Dennis remained a dear friend to his first wife, Monica Palladino, and treasured the lifelong friendship of his best friend since kindergarten, Michael Santucci. He was a proud godfather to Christina Palladino and Jennifer Blake. He is further survived by many loving in-laws, nieces, nephews, cousins, extended family members, and countless friends who will miss him deeply.
A gifted accountant with an exceptional mind for numbers, Dennis earned his undergraduate degree from Drexel University and his master's degree from Philadelphia University. He dedicated more than 20 years of his career to Ensinger, Inc. where he served as Controller and became a highly respected tax accountant throughout the local community. He finished his career as the CFO of T.C. Millwork in Bensalem. Known for his intelligence, professionalism, and willingness to help others, Dennis built lasting relationships with clients and colleagues alike.
Dennis was a man of deep faith and strong values. A devoted parishioner of St. Charles Borromeo Church, he was an active member of both the Knights of Columbus and the Holy Name Society. He believed in serving others and gave generously of his time and talents throughout his life.
Outside of work, Dennis embraced life with enthusiasm and gratitude. He was a passionate Philadelphia sports fan who faithfully cheered on the Eagles, Phillies, and Flyers. He enjoyed coaching youth soccer, sharing his love of sports and encouraging young athletes. An avid hiker and lover of the outdoors, Dennis found peace in nature and especially treasured time spent at the beach in Sea Isle City and Ocean City. He was a devoted animal lover who regularly supported the Humane Society and never met a dog he didn't want to befriend.
One of Dennis’ other great loves was running with his father and brothers, and it continued throughout his life. He ran in the very first Broad Street Run and numerous competitive races, including marathons with his son, Sean, his father and brother Charlie.
Dennis also enjoyed bowling with friends at Pinsetters, exploring local breweries and wineries, and creating memories with family and friends wherever he went. His warmth, sense of humor, intelligence, and generous spirit touched the lives of many.
Above all, Dennis was a devoted husband, son, father, brother, and friend whose greatest joy came from the people he loved. His legacy of kindness, faith, friendship, and dedication will live on in the hearts of all who were fortunate enough to know him.
He will be deeply missed and forever remembered.
Sean’s Memories
I remember long car rides, some with unexpected accidents, to the beaches of Wildwood, Avalon, and Sea Isle City as a child. I remember a plane ride to Illinois in 2014 to run in the Chicago Marathon with my father. He was 54 at the time, and he had been running with me in other races, like the Philadelphia Marathon and the Marine Corp Marathon, over the previous couple years. When I became interested in running marathons after high school, my dad reminisced about memories running with my Uncle Charles and my grandfather back in the 1970’s. His perseverance to train for a marathon thirty years later was inspirational, and I enjoyed every second of our time together.
I remember the dozens of holidays and birthdays over the years, whether the busy Christmas mornings or birthday dinners. While reminiscing about them, I thought of the countless people that we lost over the years, like my cousin Charles Palladino III, my great Aunt Mary and Uncle Joe, as well as my grandfather. Death will always be a familiar foe, but it will not break our spirit.
I remember telling my dad about my now-husband, Michael Biele, with my anxious mind afraid of his reaction. The reality of his reaction, like most things in life, almost always is different than expected. My stepmom, Beth, and him would later venture north to Glens Falls, New York to be with us in our first apartment as a couple. I remember heading to Home Depot where he helped pick out a ladder to assist us at changing the lightbulbs on the double-tall ceilings.
I remember trips to Florida to experience the magic of Disney World, bravely riding exhilarating roller coasters with my dad at a young age. I remember the excitement of witnessing Hogwarts Castle over the horizon in 2010 with my family at Universal Studios when it was opened. Years later, we were going to race in the 2017 Disney Marathon, though it was ended when I got a knee injury in the summer of 2016. Perhaps sometime in the future, I will complete the marathon that I would have been completed with my dad.
I remember long car rides to Kentucky with my dad and schoolmates for a week working with Habitat for Humanity. Over the years, I can recall countless hours of him volunteering in the community, whether assisting at a local carnival, coaching little league games, among many other pursuits. His compassion for helping others has instilled that quality in my siblings and myself, something that we will continue in his absence.
I remember watching the Philadelphia Eagles win their first Superbowl in 58 years back in 2018, and I remember attending the historical parade a week afterward. Standing near the Philadelphia Museum of Art, I distinctly recalled the euphoria of a million fans cheering in the streets. Near the iconic steps of the museum, I remember pulling out my phone for a selfie to commemorate the event. Seven years later, the team would do it again, though for our family, it was missing my grandfather who had just passed away during that momentous season in 2024.
Those iconic Philadelphia Museum of Art steps reminded me of my father’s favorite movies involving Rocky Balboa. Starring Sylvester Stallone, the underdog, fictional boxer inspired six films and three spinoff movies. The undying spirit of Rocky was emblematic not only of Philadelphia but my dad. His positive spirit was infectious, along with his humorous “dad jokes” as my siblings and I grew up.
His admiration for comedy began with his affinity for Mel Brook’s comedies like Blazing Saddles as well as Larry Gelbart’s M*A*S*H series. Decades later, he would still watch and laugh along with my siblings and I. A year after I moved to Glens Falls, New York, a local obstacle course featured one of the humorous scenes from Blazing Saddles involving a “shit ton of nickels” to cross a tiny toll in desert road.
Along with football, I remember playing hooky in high school to attend the Philadelphia Phillies World Series parade along Broad Street. It had been 28 years since they won the baseball championship, and as the iconic phrase uttered by Chase Utley in 2008 on live television said, the Phillies were “world f*cking champions”. I remember attending hundreds of baseball games in Citizen’s Bank Park, and my siblings and I will cherish those memories. It reminded me of my father-in-law, Arthur Biele, who brought my husband, Michael, and his siblings to New York Yankees games over the years before his passing.
At 65, he lived a full life. Growing up with seven siblings, it must have tough to find his voice amidst everyone. He became an expert in tax matters in the family over the years, earning a master’s degree while he was raising three children. Over the years, my dad became a trusted certified public accountant, not only for our family but hundreds of clients. Between February and April, he completed thousands of tax returns over the years.
While my dad won’t be here on Earth anymore, his spirit will continue to live on. Whether watching animals roam in the mountains or touchdowns scored by the Philadelphia Eagles, my siblings, mother, stepmother, and I will always be reminded of his laughter, smile, and words of wisdom over the years.
In honor of my father, I would love to acknowledge a quote from Rocky that exemplifies the timeless words that my dad ensured my siblings and I remember. In the sixth Rocky movie, Silvester Stallone says to his son,
“Let me tell you something you already know. The world ain’t all sunshine and rainbows. It’s a very mean and nasty place and I don’t care how tough you are, it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it.
You, me, or nobody hits is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain’t about how hard you hit, it’s about how hard you get hit and keep movin’ forward. How much you can take, and keep movin’ forward. That’s how winning is done!
Now, if you know what you’re worth, go out and get what you’re worth – but you gotta be willing to take the hits. And not pointin’ fingers sayin’ you ain’t where you want to be because of him or her or anybody. Cowards do that and that ain’t you! You’re better than that.
I’m always going to love you no matter what. No matter what happens. You’re my son and you’re my blood. You’re the best thing in my life. But until you start believing in yourself, you ain’t gonna have a life.”
Those words hit hard now. But I am incredibly happy that my dad has seen my life change in remarkable ways over the past year. After a mental health crisis in 2024, he helped me find financial stability. He followed my first steps of becoming a freelance writer and a political candidate for local councilman. My dad, along with my mom and husband, were at my first inauguration in January as I stepped into a role that I never would have dreamed.
While it is much sooner than all of us would have wanted, I will always remember you and make you proud. I love you, dad!
Tom’s Memories
Dad, you are the kindest and most genuine person I knew, the best Dad anyone could ever ask for. I'm going to miss growing up and watching M*A*S*H, Big Bang Theory, Phillies, and Flyers games in the family room at night before going to bed. Enjoying swimming in our pool and listening to the Philly 500 classic rock countdown, you always came close to predicting when the number one song would play. Going enjoy going to down to Wildwood and Sea Isle with you. Eagles’ games aren't going to be the same anymore, I thank God that they broke the curse finally! You always jokingly said you were the bad luck charm since 1960 was the last championship, but we finally got back, not only once but we got to see them win twice together!
Thank you for encouraging me to go into accounting and follow in your CPA footsteps, I met so many great people because of it! Also thank you for helping me get into the dream firm, EY, and helping me through my first layoff late last year, making sure I knew everything was going to be okay. I'm going to miss bowling every Thursday (formally Wednesday in the St Charles League) with you since I was in high school, I'm going to bowl a 300 for you in my lifetime and win a championship in the Mixed Nuts League in the future (We came so close, wish I wasn't in Utah for it). I'll miss talking life and fantasy football and hockey at the bar after bowling, going to miss the hours that we put to prep for the fantasy draft every year too. Going to miss going to church with you and the diner after every Saturday. I'm going to continue to try to make you proud Dad and live my life like you lived yours, always looking on the bright side and trying to make people laugh.
God bless and say hi to Pop-Pop for me in Heaven. I love you forever, Dad!
Tina’s Eulogy
For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Tina. Dennis was my uncle, and also my Godfather - a role he took immense pride in. We shared a very special bond; one I will cherish forever.
When Beth told me that Uncle Denny had planned the details of his funeral years ago, and that his wishes were for me to give his eulogy, I was of course deeply honored. But I have to admit, I was also nervous. Because for my whole life, whenever I tried to describe my Uncle Denny to someone who didn’t know him, I found it to be nearly impossible. He was truly one of a kind. No words could ever do him justice.
To say he marched to the beat of his own drummer is an understatement. It’s more like he was listening to a full band, playing instruments, no one has ever heard of, from an entirely different planet. He never cared what anyone thought. He was so authentically, unapologetically himself. And we all loved him for it.
Dennis was a man of many passions. In his earlier years he was an avid runner. He ran countless competitive races, including the very first Broad Street Run, and multiple marathons in various cities. But what meant the most to him, was completing marathons alongside his dad, his brother Char, and later his son Sean.
Later in life he found a new joy in hiking with his wife, his sweetheart, Beth. He loved being out in nature with her – discovering new trails, taking in the views, and simply being together. He was so looking forward to traveling and exploring new places in retirement. Beth, I know he will still be right there with you, with every step you take, and every trail you take on. In the mountains and otherwise.
He also took great pride in his work. He spent years as a financial controller and CPA, doing taxes for hundreds of clients…. and plenty of family members... He was good at what he did. His mind for numbers was incredible. He finished his career as a CFO, and he stayed on months longer than he needed to, in order to make sure his successor was fully prepared. That was who he was – he genuinely cared.
One of the most important parts of Dennis’s life, unquestionably, was his faith. He never missed Saturday 5 o’clock mass. Even while in the hospital these past few months, he insisted on visiting the chapel every chance the medical team allowed. And those were his best days. He was noticeably more centered, more himself. He was an active member of the Holy Name Society and the Knights of Columbus. He gave of his time, volunteering here at the church carnival each year. I was lucky enough to join him on a weeklong Habitat for Humanity trip to rural Kentucky as counselors with the St. Charles youth group. On that trip we each received a rope necklace with a cross made of nails, that you may have noticed Dennis wore every single day. I always found that to be so symbolic. He wore not only his faith, but his devotion to helping others, every single day of his life. It was his purpose and his direction. He didn’t just talk the talk, he walked the walk, following in the footsteps of the Lord and His teachings.
Another passion of his, albeit slightly less important, was our family’s fantasy football league. In this case, sorry Uncle Denny, but you were mostly just talk. Despite enjoying modest success at best, his trash talk was always on another level. Listening to him, you would have thought he was the Tom Brady of fantasy football. Draft days will never be the same without him. Of course this extended beyond fantasy football. To know Dennis was to be teased by Dennis. It was his love language. My mom-mom could tell you about countless stories that he would make up, each more extravagant and exaggerated than the last. He would not quit until he had convinced her they were true; only then to finally admit he was kidding. His goal was always simply to make everyone laugh. Laugh at his jokes, laugh at life, laugh at themselves. He knew life was too short to take anything too seriously.
Anyone who knew Dennis also knew what a diehard Philly sports fan he was. It was a way of life for him. He loved talking sports with anyone and everyone. My first love was the Philadelphia Flyers because I grew up going to games with him back when he had season tickets. When the Eagles won the super bowl for the first time in 2018, I remember him being so happy because they finally won in our pop-pop’s lifetime. Again, always thinking about others. It’s a weekly fall tradition in our family to get together for every Eagles game, and for the last several years the gathering place has been his and Beth’s house. I think what I will miss the most is when the Eagles have the ball on their own 20-yard line, it’s 4th and 16, and Uncle Denny yelling “GO FOR IT”. Of course we’d all tell him how ridiculous that is, but he really believed they should have gone for it and that they would have made it. He was the eternal optimist. In sports and in life.
Dennis was a craft beer enthusiast. He loved trips to Glens Falls to attend the annual beer fest with Sean and Michael. And he could often be found at Dr. Brewlittle’s on the weekends with Colleen and Tom. He loved the beach, each summer vacationing with family down the shore. You could never pull him off of the beach until the sun was nearly down. He loved bowling in our weekly league at Pinsetters alongside Tom, myself, my brother Andrew and Uncle Mark. He made so many friends there. And really wherever he went. Always friendly and fun to be around. And he was such a loyal friend. Anyone who knew him, knew that he would give you the shirt off his back.
Dennis was also a huge fan of the Rocky movies. He identified with the grit, determination, and perseverance that Rocky Balboa is so well known for. This was never truer than during the last 12 weeks that he spent in the hospital. He had set-back after set-back, complication after complication; he got knocked down over and over, but he just kept getting back up and moving forward. I am so proud of you for that Uncle Denny. We all are.
There is no question what he was fighting for and why he fought so hard. His family. For Dennis, family was everything. All of his passions that I have talked about today, only meant anything to him if he could share them with the people he loved. He raised a beautiful family with his first wife, Monica, who he loved dearly and remained close friends with. Sean, Colleen, and Tom, it was always so obvious how proud he was to be your dad, and how much he loved each of you. He passed on the best parts of himself to you and instilled the best of values in you. I know you will carry them with you for the rest of your lives and continue to make him proud.
Beth, you were undeniably the light of his life for these last 14 years. You were his best friend, his rock, his adventure, and his home. He loved you so very much. He continued his family with you, welcoming in Meghan and Jules as daughters of his own. He was a loving son, brother, uncle, great-uncle, nephew, cousin. Mom-mom, I hope you, as all of us, can take comfort knowing he is with Pop-Pop now. Here on earth, we will miss his teasing, poking, and let’s be honest, even annoyance at times. But I think I probably speak for the entire extended Palladino family when I say what we will miss the most is his heart. Uncle Denny had the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever known.
Dennis’ favorite song was Frank Sinatra’s, “My Way”. I would just like to close with a few of the lyrics to honor him:
And now, the end is near,
And so, I face the final curtain.
My friend, I’ll say it clear,
I’ll state my case, of which I’m certain.
I’ve lived a life that’s full,
I traveled each and every highway,
And more, much more than this, I did it my way.
For what is a man, what has he got?
If not himself, then he has naught.
To say the things he truly feels,
And not the words of one who kneels.
The record shows,
I took the blows,
And I did it my way.
You certainly did it your way, Uncle Denny. Your unique, goofy, sincere, heart on your sleeve, honest way. Your passionate, generous, loyal, genuine, loving way. You, and your way, will be missed beyond measure. We will carry you forever in our hearts Uncle Denny. We love you!
Celebration of Life
On evening of June 9, 2026, we walked into the Givnish Funeral Home, and it felt surreal, as it was the same location of the funerals with my grandfather, Charles Palladino Senior, as well as my cousin, Charles Palladino III, in recent years. The images on the television screens cycled through hundreds of pictures gathered by my sister. Around the room with his open casket were dozens of race medals and flowers, with a printed poster promoting a half-marathon group on September 20th to run in his honor. I had also requested that my tiger stuffed animal be placed in the room, with its collar featuring photos of my grandfather and father.
Over the course of two hours on Tuesday evening and Wednesday morning, we met hundreds of people that my father knew in his life. I enjoyed meeting his childhood friends who emphatically talked about their neighborhood escapades. His entire as bowling league arrived, reminiscing about the memories at the lanes in Pinsetter’s Bowling Alley whom my brother was a member. There were dozens of parishioners from Saint Charles Borromeo church, cousins, and friends, including my dad’s best friend, Mike Santucci. It filled my heart with joy, listening to everyone recall their own personal memories of my father.
It was a whirlwind of conversations until the final goodbye when the casket was closed and carried into the hearse. As we drove toward Saint Charles Borromeo, we saw the annual carnival in full force throughout the church and schoolyard. My dad, along with my siblings and I, have volunteered over the years for a big, community fundraiser and carnival. The rides were hauled into the ground every June by Amusements of America, a traveling carnival operator that travels to events from Miami to Vermont. When my siblings and I attended Saint Charles Borromeo Catholic school, we were all get excited when the trailers would begin setting up in the large yard, signaling that summer was about to begin.
The hearse parked in the front of the church, allowing everyone to exit and enter the church. My grandmother led the family up the center aisle, taking a seat at the front. Within moments, my cousin, Tina, somberly began reciting her eulogy. It beautifully led the captive congregation through special moments and relationships in my father’s life, including some humorous notes about his overly positive wishful thinking during Philadelphia Eagles games. Thankfully, he was able to witness his football team become two-time Superbowl Champions in his lifetime.
During the church service, my other cousin, Jennier Blake, and myself, were tasked with reciting Bible readings. My reading was from the fourth letter of the Thessalonians. It talks about hope, specifically about how believing Jesus Christ will allow those to enter heaven. As I walked to the lectern, I solemnly touched my father’s casket and took a deep breath to steady my nerves. As Maya Angelou had said in an interview, I spoke with confidence by cultivating the spirit of every person that had passed including my father. I thought about the last thing that he shared on social media involving a message to God to protect his family. I knew that he would be so proud of the words that I spoke at the altar. Once the mass had ended, we walked out of the church in procession as I saw everyone in the audience. It was heartwarming to see so many people who were able to attend the funeral service that it spurred tears in my eyes.
The procession proceeded to head to the luncheon at a local country club. It was an experience of mixed emotions, as it led to a beautiful gathering of different families coming together for the first time in decades. No matter if someone’s last name was Rauchet, Palladino, or Gramigna, we all gathered to celebrate the life and legacy of a man who brought joy, smiles, and connection to us all. It was an experience that spurred memories of family gatherings in the past. Once the banquet was finished and everyone said goodbye, we headed back to my mother’s home to rest before heading to a local brewery, Doctor Brewlittle’s.
Started in 2020 by Veterinarian Christopher Torre and Jack O’Connell in Maple Shade, New Jersey, it has become a favorite amongst my siblings and father. The brewery prides itself on cultivating an environment of exceptional craft drinks and an inviting environment that caters to humans as well as their furry friends. My father was a part of their annual membership where each member gets a special, large mug to enjoy every visit. When Michael and I arrived, everyone was posing for pictures while holding onto his commemorative mug. Made out of ceramic, the green mug was emblazoned with the brewery logo, a spotted dog, and their tagline, “a doggone good beer". Every photo taken allowed each person to remember my father through a simple cup that epitomized numerous evenings of camaraderie over the years.
The following day in the afternoon, we all ventured to the Philadelphia Crematory for the next step in the process. My father’s final wish was his ashes spread on top of a mountain in Shenandoah, Virginia, one of his favorite hiking trips with my stepmother, Beth.
The process of cremation is lengthy, but the emotional sensitivity of the staff is superb. Every movement of the body, from a small altar to inside the machine, was carefully orchestrated to ensure patience and grace for the grieving family. After a couple hours inside the machine, the body is turned to powder and placed inside an urn. While I watched my dad’s casket move into the chambers, I knew that this was not the end. Over the next year, we will plan a trip to the Shenandoah mountains and give his spirit one last breathtaking hike to the summit.
Run the Distance for Dennis
This September 20th, I am organizing a group to participate in the Philadelphia Distance Run. Originating in 1978, it led to nearly fifty years of races that begin and end near the steps of the Philadelphia Art Museum in September. From the vision of Gene Martenson, it showcases the beauty of Philadelphia with a course that winds through its historic skyscrapers, up and down the Schuylkill River along Kelly Drive and MLK Junior Drive. My father, along with his brother, my grandfather, and myself have raced through the course dozens of times over the years. And this year, I want to embark on the journey again in memory of him.
Back in 2014, I remember heading to Illinois to run in the Chicago Marathon with him. He was 54 at the time, and he had been running with me in other races, like the Philadelphia Marathon, Philadelphia Distance Run, and the Marine Corp Marathon, over the previous decade. When I became interested in running marathons after high school, my dad reminisced about memories running with my Uncle Charles and my grandfather back in the 1970’s. His perseverance to train for a marathon thirty years later was inspirational, and I enjoyed every second of our time together.
I will run the Philadelphia Distance Run in his honor, remembering all the memories and his legacy. For those that want to join, I created a group in his name. You can run, walk, or cheer from the sidelines. All that matters is that we keep my dad’s memory alive.
