By MATT CHANDLER
Buffalo Law Journal

As I entered the office of Erie County Family Court Clerk Frank Boccio and sat down to begin our chat, I got the sense this was going to be one of those interviews that, as a reporter, you remember long after the newspaper has been passed through the office, run its course as reading material in the restroom and lined the birdcage at home.

There was just something in the way Boccio carried himself that screamed, "This is going to be a good one." I was not disappointed.

As the affable clerk sat down, he immediately launched into a story - the type of storytelling that comes naturally to a man who has logged 50 years in Erie County Family Court, 48 of them as clerk. It was a story about how he nearly became a journalist himself, calling it one of his "almost passions" before taking a job in 1959 that would become a five-decade crusade to bring respect, dignity and justice to the family-court system.

"When I graduated law school, I immediately went into the Army and did two years," he explained. "When I got out of the Army, I didn't know what I was looking for, but I was getting married in June and I thought it would be a good idea if I got a job." Although he says he wasn't sure this was what he wanted to do, Boccio took the job as deputy clerk of what was then called the Children's Court.

"Because the Family Court was on the horizon, for me, there was this chance to be part of something new," Boccio said of his decision to accept the post.

Since he was first named court clerk in 1961, Boccio says he has had many offers to move on to more lucrative positions, but he says he is part of the most important court in the system, and he likes it that way.

"This court makes such a difference in the lives of the families that come through our doors," he says "The judges work so hard, and they are dealing with cases that have three parties to worry about - the father, the mother and the children."

"I actually thought for a while I should be a judge," he says. "I ran twice, first for Supreme Court, and then for Family Court, but the populace, in their wisdom, said, ‘No, you should stay where you are,' " he said.

Boccio is quick to deflect questions about himself, instead focusing on the judges and staff who surround him.

"My job is to sort of run the place," he said modestly. "The judges are the ones with the really hard jobs, and it can be an emotionally draining experience for the judiciary. You have to be a special kind of a person to go in and see this kind of stuff day after day, and be able to hold your balance and do the right thing. My job is to just try to give them what they need to do that job."

As Boccio leans back in his chair and reflects on the growth of a court that hired him to work in an old warehouse - then with a staff of 13 - and is now a powerful operation with a staff of more than 130, handling close to 40,000 petitions annually, his voice swells with pride, not so much for himself, but for what that growth represents.

Asked what he has learned from a half-century on the job in a court that was once, in his words, "the stepchild of the court system," Boccio smiled, paused and then offered up a pearl of wisdom.

"If I've learned anything in the years that I have been here, it is that you cannot control, nor can you predict, all human behavior," he said. "Why do people do what they do, why do they eat their own? Why does one kid grow up in a family with love and nurturing, turn out to be a really bad kid, and his siblings are absolutely terrific? Why does a kid from the inner city grow up to be a gangster and a hoodlum and yet, 99 percent grow up to be wonderful members of society? Why does that happen?"

Talking with him, I get the sense that these aren't merely rhetorical questions, they are what drives Boccio to continue to punch the after clock 50 years, with no signs of slowing down. He seems to have a deep and sincere desire to see every family that comes through the doors of the Family Court resolve their disputes with dignity.

Boccio's reflections also touched on challenges of staffing, budget cuts, and the evolution of the court, along with the sometimes-slow response to change on the part of the state Legislature.

Asked about the possibility of retirement, he replied, "As long as I am part of the solution and not part of the problem, I love coming to work and I plan to stay on the job."

As I rose to shake hands with Boccio and congratulate him on his milestone anniversary, he ushered me over to a bookshelf behind his desk that held a photo of his wife of nearly 50 years, Andrea, a woman he credits with all of his success.

"What can I say about her? She is incredible," he said. "I'll get choked up if I talk about her ... we have a 50-year love affair that is still going strong."

Boccio proceeded to gush about his children and grandchildren. He talked about family vacations together, ball games and being blessed to have all of them living within three miles of his home.

As we parted, the glow in his eyes and the smile that lit up his face as he talked about his family told me all I needed to know about a man who has committed the bulk of his life to improving the lives of those who find themselves inside Family Court - he is the real deal, and the day he does decide to hang up his suit jacket and retire to his family will be a sad day for the families of Erie County.