He is not the oldest veteran at the Veterans’ Home, nor is he the youngest. Among his many tasks, he is the lector at Sunday Mass and a Eucharistic minister, and he rarely misses a Sunday.
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He is not the oldest veteran at the Veterans’ Home, nor is he the youngest. Among his many tasks, he is the lector at Sunday Mass and a Eucharistic minister, and he rarely misses a Sunday.
He is my boss, Gen. Rick Baccus, the Veterans’ Home administrator who recently resigned, retired, fell on his sword, was thrown under the bus, take your pick.
He is an honest man, a tough boss, he is hands on. Every morning he inspects the entire home, greeting everyone with a good morning. He was Army, but he runs a tight ship.
W.C. Fields once said, “You can’t cheat an honest man.” Well, Gov. Gina Raimondo did. She cheated General Baccus out of his retirement on his terms and of a well deserved retirement party down the road.
Very few in the Army attain the rank of General, not an easy task, made even harder without West Point on your service record.
General Baccus’ successor should succeed if he or she has two things: the governor’s support and $2 million.
A Joni Mitchell song from 1970, “Big Yellow Taxi,” said “Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone, they paved Paradise and put up a parking lot.”
Well, Rick Baccus is gone.
In closing, let me paraphrase Joni Mitchell. “On the old Veterans’ Home parking lot pavement, they put up a Paradise,” but they could not afford it, so they blamed General Baccus.
I wrote this letter when Rick first resigned, but held off sending it because Rick was asked to stay on during the Covid pandemic. He did his usual excellent job and they still let him go June 30.
In gratitude, it’s a cardinal sin.
George Carroll
Warren