Anthony DiPrima, 81, passed away on January 23, 2025, in Bonita Springs, FL.

He is predeceased by his parents, Samuel & Margaret DiPrima; brother, Joseph V. DiPrima; sister, Grace Burch, and Judith A. Russo (mother of his children).

Anthony is survived by his beloved wife, Sarah DiPrima; children, Renee DiPrima Burns (David), of Concord, MA., Samuel A. DiPrima II, Anthony S. DiPrima Jr., and Joseph E. DiPrima; stepchildren, Kimberly D. Henry (John) of Halifax Nova Scotia, and Jeff Chapman; grandchildren, Halle V. Burns, Caroline E. Burns, Anthony S. DiPrima III, Samuel A. DiPrima Jr, Sophia R. DiPrima, Rachel Henry, and Sydney Henry; nieces and nephews; Deborah Whitehair, Angela DiPrima (Godchild), Samantha DiPrima, Amy DiPrima, Marjorie Tann, MaryKay Lenart (Godchild), and Tracy Cloyd; sister-in-law, Victoria DiPrima; his Aunt Jennie Maenza who will be 104 years old in July.

Services for Anthony will be held on Saturday, February 8, at 11:30 am at White Haven Memorial Park. All Seasons Chapel, 210 Marsh Rd., Pittsford, 14534. He will be laid to rest privately in White Haven Memorial Park. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to the Alzheimer’s Association, 200 Meridian Centre Blvd., Suite 110, Rochester, NY 14618 in his memory.

Following the service, friends are welcome to join the family at Tony’s favorite Restaurant, Pane Vino 175 N. Water St. Rochester.

The Last of the Tough Guys

At 81, Dad had lived a full life, shaped by the values he held close; dedication to his family, loyalty to his friends, and a sense of grit and determination in the face of any challenge life put in his path. He was a self-made man, someone who built not just a career, but a legacy.

As a young father, he provided for his family with a small corner grocery store, which sparked his passion for business. Over the decades, he built a successful career in both commercial and residential real estate. A true dealmaker, he was a master negotiator-always two steps ahead, reading people as effortlessly as he read a deck of cards. Whether it was business, a friendly wager, or a conversation over dinner, he had an instinct for finding the right angle, making the right move, and ensuring that he-and often those around him-walked away with the best possible outcome.

Like his father before him, Dad had a love for a lively game of gin. It didn’t matter who sat across the table, he was always up for the challenge. Those games, filled with laughter, competition, and his signature phrases “What a bunch of garbage,” “Did you feel the breeze?” and, of course, “Don’t touch the cards!”-will forever be part of the way his children and grandchildren remember him. What made him truly unbeatable was his uncanny memory for numbers. You never knew what cards he held, but rest assured, he knew exactly what cards everyone else had in their hand and how they played them. He kept track of every detail, all while keeping a straight face or throwing in a little misdirection. But more than just the game, he was teaching us something bigger: how to pay attention, be thoughtful, and keep our cool, no matter what hand life dealt us.

Dad’s love for the game extended beyond cards. Football Sundays were sacred in his house, whether he was cheering on his favorite team or complaining about the spread. He brought his same sharp instincts to the stock market and to thoroughbred horses, studying the numbers with analytical intensity. He loved the thrill of a good bet.

We will also remember Dad for the way he trusted each of us to find our own path. He didn’t force us into a mold or try to shape us in his image, instead, he gave us the freedom to become who we were meant to be and he made us solve our own problems. Yet we knew, without a doubt, that he would always be there to pick us up if we fell too far. His love was a quiet, constant presence, a safety net we could always count on. And in that, he taught us life’s most important lessons: family comes first, always look out for each other, and loyalty is everything.

Dad was the last of the tough guys; he had a booming voice, never pulled a punch, and loved a pointy joke. He took up a lot of space. And while we’ll miss him every day, we’ll carry his spirit with us-strong, proud, and always fighting the good fight.

He leaves behind a family who adored him; his beloved wife, who stood beside him through every triumph and challenge, and his four children that he raised with love, patience (just kidding!), and a firm hand. We are who we are because of him.

Rest easy, Dad. You did it your way, and that will never be forgotten.