Coney Island, the world's greatest fun frolic with its beach miles long peppered with people.

The place where merriment is king.

I got lost at Coney Island and I was only four years old.

Well, for many years I would hear her talk about Coney Island, and particularly if we had relatives or friends that would come and she would, comment on, oh, what I went through that day.

I looked around and I didn't see her in and out of the water.

I didn't know if she was in the water.

I did, and I said, mom, why do you keep talking about that?

Forget it.

And she said, I'm going to tell you something.

Little girl, she said, someday you're going to be a mother.

And when you become a mother, I hope you don't have to go looking for a lost child.

Yes, that's what I did.

Find missing children.

My mother could not have been more right.

But here's the thing.

They weren't my children.

They were everyone's children.

All these beautiful children missing.

Why?

So many reasons.

Lonely.

Neglected.

Abused.

So many cases.

Over 45,000 during my career.

Most found.

But it's the few who are not found that I will never forget.

It didn't start out this way.

It actually started out so simply with me needing a job.

I was a young girl desperate to help my family.

My father was very ill.

My brother was still in the army.

My sister had married and my other brother had just returned from the service, and he was pretty shaken up, emotionally unable to work.

I had to find a way to bring money into the household, and I was determined to help.

Now, I grew up in the Lower Hill district.

What a time to grow up there.

None of us had much, but we had the love of our family and the care from our neighbors.

How our neighborhood included every ethnicity of Pittsburgh in those days blacks, Italians, Irish and Jews.

It was a lovely time to be a child.

Now, my parents were immigrants from Italy and they loved each other as young children, and they maintain that love their entire lives.

My father was sent to America to live with relatives, but he never let go of his feelings for his mother.

I mean can you imagine that today?

My father went back to Italy to, to visit my mother.

And while he was there, he was drafted into the Italian army for World War one.

See he was both a citizen of America and Italy.

Oh, how the family squabbled over that.

My father's family was angry that he went to Italy, and my mother's family was upset that their daughter loved a man who may be killed.

Well, my mother wrote to him constantly and had my dear, sweet aunts send the letters without my parent's knowledge.

But he survived, and they were married, and my mother made her way to America while nine months pregnant.

And here I am.

What endurance?

I mean, that's probably where I got it from.

Now, at 18, after graduating from Saint Paul's Cathedral High School, I was desperate to find a job.

Sister Martina had prepared me for public speaking in her own special way.

Not much was available for a young, inexperienced girl in the 1940s, but I had heard the way to get a job was through politics.

So I decided to show my ability by registering voters.

Oh, I knocked on doors and I signed up over 150 people to register.

That wasn't enough to get a job, but I had one ace in the hole.

My neighbor.

We all called him Bangie.

I used to babysit his children so he knew I was responsible.

I went to him one day and I said, Bangie, I need a job Anything.

I have to help my family.

You see, I knew that he may be able to help me because his old friend was then Mayor David L Lawrence, who many of you know became the governor of Pennsylvania.

Now, Bangie was not a politician, just a good friend of the mayor.

Well, he came back to me the next day and he said, I have something for you, but it's part time.

I said, anything Bangie would be wonderful.

He said, okay, but it's in the Detective Bureau.

What could I say?

I knew nothing about police work, but I was desperate.

So.

He came to pick me up the next day, and we walked downtown.

It was kind of a dreary day.

I was all dressed up in my coat, and my heels.

It seemed like an endless walk from the hill district.

Bangie kept insisting that I would like it, trying to give me courage, but I was so nervous, especially when we turned the corner and I saw a lot of large men on motorcycles.

And I looked at this building like it was ready to cave in.

And mean, can you imagine?

And I was just in awe, confused, perplexed.

And I thought, oh no, I don't think I can do this.

Well Bangie must have sensed my uneasiness, and he grabbed my hand and he led me into the building.

He was firm, and I could tell he knew what he was doing.

So all I could hear were my heels clicking on the concrete, and I was still holding Bangies hand.

We passed all these women sitting at their desks in big hats.

They didn't say a word.

They just stared.

I was still holding Bangies hand, so they probably thought that I was a runaway and Bangie was my father.

They probably had no idea that I was being brought there to work.

Well, he pulled me into an office where a stern looking woman sat.

She said, Frank, how are you?

In a friendly tone.

And I thought, she doesn't know his name is Bangie.

Frank said, Mary, this is Therese Rocco.

She's going to be working here in the absence of Kate Bonnacour Well, Mary took one look at me and said, oh, no, Frank, she's too young.

She doesn't belong here.

And Frank said, she belongs here.

And so it began.

Well, I was assigned a desk, and Mary ORourke was my boss.

I had to work alongside all those women in big hats.

They made me very uncomfortable in the beginning.

Mary gave me an assignment to start out.

You know, she said that she received letters from all over the country on missing children and people.

And she took an interest in every one of those letters.

Mary impressed me.

I couldn't believe how these children had run away from home for 3 or 4 days at a time, how some of them were being abused, many by their own parents.

I began to enjoy working the way Mary worked, helping to find children.

I began to love it.

I wanted to become a good investigator, just like Mary.

So she put me in touch with the State Department, the Register of Wills and the FBI.

She said, you're going to need these contacts to become a good investigator.

Oh, but I always had to wear a hat when I went out on the street.

I refused to wear some of the crazy hats the women in the office wore.

So I always kept my Tammy close by.

I will never forget the day I didn't have it.

One of the women loaned me a hat with a large bird on it.

I still have it.

I never forgot my Tammy after that.

In the meantime, because I was so young, some of the male detectives took an interest in using me for decoy work.

One of the one of the detectives came to Mary and said that they would like to use me for certain cases.

So Mary agreed, and she came to me and she said the men would use me as a decoy when they needed me.

I had no idea what it would involve.

I remember the first time that I performed as a decoy.

I was told that I was going to look for a masher.

A masher.

The only thing I could think of was mashed potatoes.

I didn't know what it meant, but I was trying to conceal my ignorance for the language.

I learned that it was a molester The detective took me to the Warner Theater.

You may remember it on the one on Fifth Avenue.

The detective Iggy Burkowski told me that the masher was going to come into the theater and try to molest a young woman, and they were hoping that I would pretend to be that young woman.

Iggy Burkowski told me where to sit, and he gave me some advice.

He said when the man tries to make a move, he wanted me to raise my arm and do this.

Well, I sat there for 20 minutes.

I had already seen From Here to Eternity two times before, so it was getting pretty boring.

I was praying the guy wouldn't show up, but all of a sudden I smell Cologne and I see this big guy and I think, uh oh, he's here.

Then I start to feel his leg encircle mine and pull it over to his.

And I think, what on earth?

Well, I couldn't think.

So instead of doing this, I look at him and I think, what are you doing?

Well, he got up and ran and I chased him.

I chased him clear out of the lobby, and I grabbed him by the legs, and I, his pants came down!

All I could see was Iggy.

Oh if his eyes were pellets, I would have been dead.

Oh.

Oh.

Well, the next day, we got in front of the judge, and the man accused me of attacking him.

He said, judge, this young woman chased me and pulled my pants down in the theater.

Well, all of the media was there, and the judge was hitting his gavel as he shouted, order!

Everybody laughed.

Well, except for Iggy.

He never forgot it, and I heard about it from him forever.

And that was my first decoy.

A total disaster.

I remember another time that I had to answer an ad for a model for a photo shoot.

I had to go to a hotel room and try on lingerie.

Oh, the man in the room got so angry with me.

I kept stalling, telling him that I didn't really like the color or I didn't think it would fit me.

Well, finally he said, get in there and try something on so I can take your picture.

Well, as soon as I went into the other room, the detectives entered.

I came out and I said, you're under arrest.

And besides, it didn't really fit me.

And I threw the lingerie on the bed.

I mean, can you imagine me walking into back alley abortions in dark parks at night with a bag of paper that was supposed to be money for an extortion case?

Capturing rapists, helping to solve murders.

Trailing a thief that we've been chasing for weeks.

I made the identification in the bathroom of a Woolworth's.

She had been stealing expensive items and evading police.

I made the ID.

Sometimes when I look back, I can't believe I did these things.

That last one got me the FBI clean sweep badge.

My first badge.

And it was from the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

No female ever received that.

In fact, some of the men didn't want me to take credit for that case.

I think of my father.

He passed away suddenly after I was on the force for one year.

Oh, he never would have tolerated me doing this kind of work.

It always made the papers when someone was caught.

Although they tried to keep my name out of it.

I am grateful he never knew.

Now, my mother was a different story.

She only spoke in Italian, so she couldn't read the papers.

These big detectives would show up to get me at night and they would always say, don't worry, Mama, well take good care of her.

She trusted them.

She trusted me.

She was proud of me.

I did have a turning point early on, though, where I almost walked away from police work.

I was appointed a court reporting position.

It was magistrate court.

It was tough listening to those stories.

They were horrible.

A lot of deviant sex crimes stories, a young Catholic girl never imagined.

And I thought, if I have to stay here, this job is not for me.

I walked out one day on my lunch hour, and I thought, I have to look for another job.

I miss missing persons and finding children.

I needed someone to talk to, and I came to a church that I'm sure you know of.

Saint Mary's of the point.

I walked in and no one was there.

I thought, this is my time to be alone with the Blessed Mother.

I knelt and I prayed.

And when I left, I felt different.

And for some reason, I went to see Mary ORourke.

She looked at me, she asked, what's wrong Therese?

Don't let this get you down.

It's a learning experience.

Changes are good.

They help you learn more.

Now she knew I disliked listening to those stories, they were tough.

She said we listen to what they have to say, but we are not part of it.

It's just listening.

She convinced me and I wanted to get into this man's world, and I did.

I changed my mind.

I was going to fulfill my obligation to this department, and it was in no time that I was back at missing persons and hired full time.

Finding missing children and people was my life and my passion.

When I look back at the cases I handled, they were amazing.

Most with happy results, but, some with sad outcomes.

Children who ran away.

Children who were abused.

Children who just went missing.

Young girls who went into prostitution.

The worst is when we would find children or babies dead.

That was so hard.

It was so difficult to tell the families.

I would carry that home with me.

I remember one vividly of a little boy on Valentine's Day.

You may remember this one.

Such a sweet first grader.

Denny Grants.

It was 1963.

Denny attended Saint James Catholic School in the West End, and he came home every day for lunch.

He told a little girl that he had a special Valentine's Day card for her, that he would bring her after lunch.

He never made it home.

I received a call from the sergeant of the eighth precinct telling me about a missing first grader.

And in no time, I found myself at the home of the boy, surrounded by his parents and every one of his ten brothers and sisters.

You see, he didn't realize.

None of them realized that he was missing until 5:30 p.m.

that evening.

Sometimes he would go to his brother's basketball practice after school or to his married sister's house for lunch.

Now, a search began immediately.

It included bringing out the canines to help.

The search was being reported on the radio.

And the family?

They just refused to turn it off.

Search went on for nine hours.

Then I received a call from the search team asking about the color of the cap that Denny was wearing that day.

The mother said it was red.

Well, the canine had located a a red cap at the side of an open 40ft well.

Before I could get the details.

The media had already reported it on the radio as the family listened.

To see the image of all those crying children and parents was heartbreaking.

It's one I will never forget.

But let me tell you, there were many happy stories as well.

One day, a very distraught woman came into the police station.

Her two sons were abducted by her ex-husband, who was also a drug addict.

She had nowhere to turn.

She had no idea where they were.

So I decided, since they were of school age, to contact every school board of education in the country to get the address of every school in the country.

The mother, her family and friends typed letters all day long and they sent them out to all the schools with pictures of the boys.

So one night when I returned to work after taking a swim at the Y, I received a phone call from a principal in Seattle, Washington.

Therese Rocco speaking.

Yes, those are the boys.

Oh, thank you so much for getting in touch with me.

This has been a nine month search.

Yes, you are correct.

That woman is not their mother.

The mother in Pittsburgh has full custody.

Yes.

I'm going to ask you to do something.

Please do not contact the authorities.

I will get back to you shortly.

If you contact the police, it will make it very difficult to get the boys back home.

Thank you.

He said the boys are back in his school.

Can you imagine?

From Pittsburgh to Seattle.

You see, I knew if the police were contacted, it would make it very difficult to get the boys back home.

I did what I thought was best.

Fortunately, he agreed.

So I contacted my supervisor and he said, Therese, trust your instincts.

I appreciated that.

And I did what I thought was best.

So I asked a detective that I trusted to take this woman to Seattle to see her boys.

Now, they sat outside the house where the father was living with this other woman, and Danny and Sammy.

They sat out there all night.

And when the boys came out to go to school the next morning, she called to them, and they ran to her.

But they thought that she was their aunt, who was a twin sister of their mother.

The father had told them that their mother was dead.

Oh, what a happy reunion.

I still hear from the family to this day.

They are so grateful.

And so am I. But of course, I will never, never forget about the case that has not left my heart.

Mary Ann Verdecchia.

You may have read about her.

I try very hard to keep this little girl alive through articles and media coverage.

Mary Ann was a ten year old little girl who went missing the day the school let out for the year.

June 7th, 1962 A sweet, adventurous little girl whose parents had abandoned her at a young age, leaving her aunt to care for her as her guardian.

She was never found, after an exhaustive search of many months.

I truly consider her a martyr for children, because the techniques that I was able to acquire during that lengthy search helped me to find so many other children in the future.

I never stopped thinking about her or searching for her.

Now the case was reopened in 1991 after a strong lead had surfaced.

A Presbyterian minister was sexually abusing children.

We believe we know who did it, but sadly, we cannot prove it.

Finding missing children and people was a passion.

But my investigative work was my true craft.

I don't mean to pat myself on the back, but I have to tell you, I became a top notch investigator.

The detectives would come to me with a piece of paper and they would say, what can you find out about this?

And I would look at them and say, well, why can't you do it?

And they say, no, we've got to be out on the street.

And I would say, did you know that investigation is more than being out on the street?

It's the phone.

It's contacts.

It's.

What's up here.

Well, anyway, I would smile and they would leave.

And within a day I would have a full report on their desk.

Did you know that Missing persons touches on every type of crime out there?

Homicide.

Burglary, extortion.

I learned a lot.

I learned so much, that I was teaching investigatio at the police academy without ever attending the academy myself.

It wasn't until Eugene Coon.

Lieutenant in charge of homicide, came on board in 1965.

At this point, I was captain of missing persons.

After Mary ORourke had retired.

Now, Eugene Coon was a very intelligent man, a top notch detective himself, with a lot of charisma.

When I first met him, he called me into his office and he asked why I hadn't I hadn't attended any of the morning briefings or any of my staff.

Where were all the women in my department?

Well, I told him that we were never invited to any of the meetings.

Now, he was the first individual at that level to take an interest in the discrimination of the female police.

I felt comfortable, and I opened up to him and he also asked.

He said, did any of you attend the academy?

And I told them, no, but I teach the men at the academy.

He laughed.

He couldn't believe it.

Well, after that everything started to change.

We all attended the academy.

We received uniform and we attended the morning briefings.

He really began to change things.

No car yet.

No gun.

But it was a start.

I'll never forget what he did for the women.

We were really beginning to be recognized for our work.

Then in 1970, Gene Coon did something instrumental again for women.

A couple of men had, transferred into my department around that time.

Then a very competent woman on my staff named Sigourney Saunders came to me and wanted to be transferred.

She said nothing against you.

You are an excellent supervisor, but I want to test the waters.

I want to see if women will be given the same opportunity as men.

I certainly understood, and she got her wish.

She was transferred to a clerical position in administration.

Well, she wasn't having any of that.

So she came back to my department.

She was a veteran.

She knew her stuff.

She said, I don't know about you, but I plan on filing a class action suit against the city of Pittsburgh.

She and two other veteran officers were part of the suit.

They were suing for equal pay.

They approached me about being part of the suit, and I chose not to be involved.

But I told them I would gladly testify on their behalf.

Now, I appeared on the stand in court for one and a half days, reading reports that detailed their courageous operations on decoy operations and their work finding missing children.

On the third day.

Gene Coon, who is now the sheriff of Allegheny County.

He also appeared on the stand and the judge listened and he took it all in.

The women we were, I think we were.

We were the only two witnesses for the women, and they won their case.

They would earn back pay and they would also get their equal pay.

I was thrilled for them.

I would also earn equal pay.

But no back pay.

$21,000.

It upset me so much so that I took that frustration home with me.

It all started to come back to me.

How I had been discriminated against for 26 years, and how I handled it all with a smile.

I had good relations with most of the men, but I was still just a woman in their eyes, not their equal.

Men just coming on the job at lower ranks, making more money and earning more respect.

My mother was living with me and one night it was late.

She could hear me stirring.

She asked me to come to her room.

She asked me what was wrong and I told her how I didn't get the back pay that I thought I was entitled to And she asked me, well, now you have to remember this was all in Italian.

She asked me, are you worried about money?

I said, well, sure Mom, we could use it.

Then she said, did they attack your reputation?

I said, no.

Then she said, are they saying you are someone you are not?

I said, no.

Then she said, now remember, mom was a devout Catholic.

She said, it's only money.

All the money in the world does not equate to one Mass.

Go to bed.

I went to bed and I never thought about money again.

Never, never, never.

And do you know that it was in no time that I was appointed to commander?

In 1970, I was coming back from a trip to Italy, visiting family.

Friends called me up and said, you made the news while away.

I ask why?

Police Inspector William ‘Mungsy Moore was speaking to a women's rights organization at Point Park College, and he suggested that Therese Rocco should be put up for a position that was opening up.

Well, he said, shes certainly qualified.

I was shocked, but then I thought of Inspector Moore.

He was African American and he knew what discrimination was.

Well, it took ten more years, but sure enough, once Inspector Moore was promoted to chief of police, I was one of his first appointments to Commander.

That was really big news.

No female had ever reached that level.

I was captain to a commander.

And I give Chief ‘Mungsy Moore all the credit, and I will be eternally grateful to him for it.

Now, it encompassed a large portion of units to command.

The missing persons and youth and fugitives.

And the fugitive unit set me up for the future, And what's actually going on right now.

More on that later.

Oh.

Then in 1977, Eugene Coon appeared in my life again.

Yes, Sheriff.

What?

Why didn't you come to me first before going to the mayor?

One year.

Well, I'll have to make arrangements here first.

All right.

I'll get back to you by tomorrow.

Thank you.

Well, he needed a favor, and he bypassed me and went directly to Mayor Caliguiri for the okay.

He wanted to pull me out of missing persons to serve on a special homicide unit for one year.

There was a serial murderer on the loose that the county police were unable to catch.

I just wish he would have come to me first.

When I spoke to him the next day, I told him that I was willing to do it, but I really didn't think I was qualified.

I didn't want to get too involved.

Too much politics between him and County Commissioner Forester arguing all the time, but being the convincing man that he was with all the charisma.

He said but Therese, you're my best investigator.

And you know what?

He was right.

Now, I was one of 40 skilled investigators appointed to the task force, and I was the only female that was recruited.

That was an honor that I later came to realize and appreciate.

We had to work hard to train the police for that task force.

It was the perfect opportunity for me to share my skills, and it set me up for the future.

In the 1980s, there was a citywide initiative to have women test to be police officers.

What a fine group of young women came onto the force.

They all came to me for advice.

They all faced discrimination and I was happy to share with them how to make it work, what to do, how to perform.

You know.

Many of these women have risen in the ranks to very prominent positions.

I was happy to have helped them.

Then in May of 1985.

Two months after my dear mother had passed.

The United States Senate came calling.

Arlen Specters office called.

He was chairing a juvenile judiciary committee in D.C., and he wanted me to appear before the Senate.

It was the perfect opportunity for me to bring to the forefront the growing national problem of missing and exploited children.

You see, there were these agencies out there that were operating as missing persons firms, and they were taking money from desperate parents.

Well, I made the suggestion that any of the missing persons cases be handled through the police department and not these false private agencies.

And that law still stands today.

You know, now that I think about it, I was probably the original Amber alert.

I had a wonderful working relationship with Bill Burns from KDKA TV.

As soon as there was word of a missing child or teen, he would be in my office and I would be on TV.

This was something that was very close to his heart for personal reasons.

In 1989.

Our first female mayor made the tough decision to promote me to Assistant Police Chief.

The first female in that role.

I learned that was not an easy decision for her.

She felt there would be criticism since she was the first female mayor, and she was promoting a woman to that role.

But another woman stepped in to support her case.

Rita Wilson Kane.

Now, Rita was a good friend and a confidante to Sophie, but she also had quite the political career.

Rita had encouraged Sophie to promote me.

Both Rita and Sophie knew my worth.

They knew what I had accomplished and they knew the discrimination that I had faced.

It was a wonderful moment in my life.

But.

Some of my life memories they have been very painful.

I think about how all of my family members have passed away at young ages, and they weren't here to see all of my accomplishments.

I was the last surviving sibling in my family.

I think about all the family members as I brace myself to tell them that their child would not be coming home.

I think about all the children with snotty noses and dirty diapers who were left abandoned in filthy homes without anything to eat.

I think about all the troubled souls who were lost during my career.

But you know, I have to balance those memories with the goodness in my life and the ones we saved.

And the true successes and now that comes from my faith.

It guided me, and it still does.

Children have always been the most important to me.

I dedicated my life to them.

Now, I never had any of my own.

But I feel like the children that I've helped, they are mine.

To save a young life, there is nothing more important.

Now, my work establishing the nonprofit Mom's House that helped to save young lives as well.

I helped them to select a location and to secure funding.

We helped so many young women choose to keep their babies and continue their education.

It has been wonderful.

And now that retirement is closing in.

Another opportunity has presented itself.

I was recently nominated to become a U.S.

Marshal for Pennsylvania, who would profile fugitives.

I mean, I did not expect it at all.

I did not seek it.

I, I did not expect it.

But wow, what an honor.

I suppose my reputation has brought me to this point.

But when I think of all the people and all that I have done.

It just amazes me.

When I think of all the men that I have come across.

But two men have seen my worth, Chief ‘Mugsy Moore and Eugene Coon.

You can say what you want.

But they gave me a chance that I might not have had in that time period.

Now, the FBI vetted me for this position, and I was told it was pristine.

That gave me a very high feeling of satisfaction, and it was all worth it just to come to this point.

I'm going to be sworn in tomorrow.

It's the call I've been waiting for.

Therese Rocco speaking.

Yes Director I'm all set for tomorrow.

Excuse me.

I don't really understand.

Where's this coming from?

Who?

Unbelievable.

But he's known me for years.

He knows my work ethic and my experience.

What can I do?

You want me to seek political backing to make my case?

But I'm associated with many politicians.

Yes, I know you've read my FBI report, and I thank you for your personal endorsement, but I just.

Yes, I know it's politics.

All right.

If I change my mind, I'll let you know and get back to you tomorrow.

Well, that was Director Gonzales, the head of the U.S.

Marshals in D.C.. He just told me that I'm not going to be sworn in tomorrow.

Someone is blocking it.

Unreal.

A local congressman who I know personally is fighting my appointment.

He's telling them that I'm not qualified.

All these years, all this hard work.

It's 1995, a long way from 1948, when I first started.

Times have changed.

At least I thought they had.

If I want to fight for this position, I need to seek political backing.

This is ridiculous.

My background should stand on its own.

Well do you want to know the reason the congressman gave?

The reason he gave for why I'm not qualified is, I'm a woman.

I would have been the first woman in Pennsylvania to hold the position of U.S.

Marshal.

My qualifications back me up on this woman or no woman, I am more than qualified.

Do I really need to prove myself all over again in this man's world?

I really have to think about this.

Sally, I'm leaving for the day.

Headed over to Mom's House for a meeting.

In the end, it's the children that really matter.

And always will be.

What an achievement in this day and age, and in this male dominated profession, for female to reach those ranks.

It just broke the glass ceiling, knowing that any one of us could follow right behind and do the same.

She's opened those doors.

She was effective.

She was hard working.

She was not a publicity seeker.

She was not looking to see getting her name out and so on.

She would frequently, I think, step back, maybe, and let others take credit for work that she had done behind the scenes.

We tend to want to put adjectives on women bosses and theyre sort of negative in describing them and tough to me is not what Therese Rocco was.

She was compassionate.

She was concerned.

She was assertive.

She was firm.

She expected you to come in and do your job and do it to the best of your ability and treat everyone with dignity and respect.

So if that's tough, then put a capital T on it, because that was Therese.

She was a woman of faith.

She had a strong, commitment to God.

She had a strong love of family.

And she had a very, very strong dedication to her work.

Well, she was always a positive role model.

So even if we weren't close, you could just observe her from afar.

And you wanted to emulate the way that she carried herself.

She was always a lady, like some women, when they came on the job early on, they felt they had to act like a man in order to exist in this profession.

And you never saw that in Therese, she was always a lady, and she carried herself in a manner that you felt that you could carry yourself in the same manner, act like a lady but on a man's job.

And there were others I also tried to emulate.

But because she was a female, that was important.

There were other females, but she held rank and that was the most important.

She was on a mission and she performed that mission, and she did it quite admirably.

The biggest thing I admire about her, is she has her beliefs and what she believes.

Well she believes in right.

And she loves her life like that.

And she's feisty too.

And always talking about children who were missing reported missing years ago that don't forget about them.

Therese Rocco's greatest strength to me is her compassion.

She's simply a woman of grace.

I can say no more about her.

I just think she's just the epitome of grace.

Thank you.

The play was based on the documentary The Epitome of Grace.

Produced by InterVue Productions and BluMars Media and based on a memoir by Therese Rocco.

Performed live at Oakland Catholic High School, Chief Rocco's alma mater.

Chief Rocco, in her 90s, was able to see herself captured on stage at the performance.