Ramasar "Johnny" Samaroo

Ramasar Samaroo, known as Johnny, age 77, of Hillside, NJ, passed away on May 3rd, 2024. He was born in Guyana and migrated to the U.S. in 1987. He was predeceased by his parents, two brothers, a sister, and a grandson and survived by his wife, Doreen, the father, grandfather, and great-grandfather of five children, eight grandchildren, two great-grandchildren, two brothers, two sisters, and many nieces and nephews.

Visitation will be held on Tuesday, May 7th, 2024, from 5:00 p.m. to 9:00 p.m., at Union Funeral Home, 1600 Stuyvesant Avenue, Union, New Jersey, 07083.

The funeral service is on Wednesday, May 8th, 2024, from 9:00 a.m. to 11:00 a.m., with the crematorium service at noon.

His daughter Debbie's eulogy of her Dad is here below.

My name is Debbie. I am the youngest child of our dearly departed. On behalf of myself, my mother, my four siblings, his eight grandchildren, two great-grandchildren, and all our loved ones, we are here today to say goodbye to our fearless champion, Johnny. Thank you for your compassion during this rough time in our family’s lives. We are forever grateful for the love and support.

I am the youngest of five children and was particularly close to my dad. We have a bond that will never be broken.

Mommy would tell us stories about when we were little and how involved Daddy was with us. She told us he’d work all day and stay up at night to help care for us. That is how I remember him since I was a little girl. He did for us without fussing. We had things without knowing that he provided them. He contested for me, stood by me, and taught us what courage is without uttering a single word.

That’s the dad I know—the man I used to sleep on, the man I’d cry for when he was gone, the man I’d get away with anything when he was around. He never said an insulting word or degraded us, but when he was upset about something, we’d know. These personal memories, these shared experiences, are what makes our bond so strong.

I listened to his breathing and heartbeat before I knew what a lung or heart was. I love the way he hummed songs. I admire the way he walked and dressed. I love how he talked and laughed about the silliest things. Overall, he was my everything. He was low-key yet impeccable in his manner.

Daddy has always been my number one guy. In my eyes, my dad could do no wrong, and even when he was wrong, I had a way of justifying it. He was always reserved; he didn’t say much but would have a full-blown conversation with people he was fond of.

He had a low tolerance for arrogance, flashiness, and obnoxiousness and didn’t care much for partying, big gatherings, or celebrations, but he would blast his favorite music at home. Anyone who knows my dad knows that his parties were mainly a one-man show.

He was always independent, and despite his ailments, he pushed on to the end, from doing his food shopping, cooking, and laundry up early in the morning to digging around the yard. He loved gardening, music, hugs from the grandkids, and his belly. Yes, Daddy loved to eat, and Mommy would save a little of everything she had for him.

Daddy, you may have been reserved, but you spoke louder and taught me more than anyone I know. I love your unwavering strength, your unwavering commitment, and determination. I admired your fearlessness and no tolerance for slackness. When I never knew what a superhero was, I always knew that you were the most acclaimed person in my life. In my eyes, you will always be my hero, my number-one guy, and my silent teacher. Your willpower, your determination, is overwhelmingly admirable. You are like a scarce gem mysterious to many because only a certain few are lucky to know your true strengths and capabilities. Your actual talents are hidden from the world. I marvel at your mysteries as you had so much to offer, yet you resort to seclusion. Whatever the case, I saw you and admired you for everything you were and everything you stood for.

You taught us all what determination is to the end. In your style, you left just like you would leave a get-together without us knowing where you were. I always feared losing you, and now I am living my fear, but again, the strength I got from you is the reason I am standing here. I never felt the need to tell you that I love you because our bond was so close; it was apparent. I will not say I love you now either because only you know how much your entire family loves you, and if love alone could save anyone, you’d never have left.