A Father and His Grown Son Are Found Dead in the Bronx They were a familiar sight along Beach Avenue in the Bronx: the old man walking a few steps behind his faster-moving, mentally handicapped son, both of them dressed in matching black slacks, white dress shirts, and trench coats in the winter. Joseph Valerio Sr., 85, and his son, Joseph Jr., 46, were inseparable. They lived together, prayed at church together, often ate at McDonald's together and, in the summertime, sat side by side on a bench in the little triangle between the Cross Bronx Expressway and Wood Avenue. As he got older, Mr. Valerio struggled to keep up with his son, who would bound ahead and wait at crosswalks for his father to catch up with him. And when they returned to their building, Joseph Jr. would push ahead and wait patiently at the door to their fourth-floor walkup for his father, who might be several flights below. The son was in every way dependent on the father, neighbors said, and needed help with the most basic of tasks, like bathing and getting dressed. On Saturday night, a daughter of Joseph Sr."s went to the apartment after she was unable get in touch with him, the police said. She found her father in his bedroom, and Joseph Jr. on the living-room floor, both dead, according to the police. While the circumstances of the deaths remain unclear, neighbors speculated that Joseph Sr. had died of natural causes, and that his son, left with no one to care for him, died later. The police said they did not suspect foul play. Ellen Borakove, a spokeswoman for the city medical examiner's office, said a determination as to the cause and manner of death was pending. The mood in front of the building on Sunday was somber, as neighbors and friends reflected on the father's commitment to his son. "When I came out on the street this morning, it felt like somebody of importance around here had died," said Carlos Lugo, 29, who lived nearby and remembered meeting the Valerios when he was a boy. When it came to describing the son's difficulties to others, Joseph Sr. was circumspect. One resident of the building, Mike Clancy, 67, said he would occasionally ask Joseph Sr. how Joseph Jr. was doing. "He said, "The kid was born that way," " Mr. Clancy recalled. "But he said, "He's yours, you've got to take care of him." " Those who tried to engage with Joseph Jr. were often rebuffed. "I would try to talk to the son, but he would never say anything, he would just look away," Laverne Williams, another neighbor, said. Neighbors knew little of the Valerios" family history beyond a few bare details. Joseph Sr. had served in the military, said Grey Maria, the wife of the building's superintendent. His wife had died long ago, said another neighbor, Jack Edgar, 40. Even if he shared little with his neighbors, Joseph Sr."s austere, self-sufficient manner made an impression on them. He declined any offers of help as he climbed the stairs carrying groceries. When a young man a couple of floors below locked his mother out of the apartment, Joseph Sr. shouted a quick lecture through the door about the importance of filial piety. "This is your mother, you're supposed to respect her, she gave you life," Mr. Valerio said, according to Ms. Maria, whose apartment is next door to the Valerios." "He always spoke in a loud voice," Ms. Maria recalled, adding, "The way he spoke was commanding." When Joseph Sr. came to Ms. Maria to discuss repairs he wanted for his apartment, he would emphasize the urgency of the situation, explaining that he needed the apartment to be in perfect order if he was to be an effective caregiver. "He would say, "I have to look after my son," " Ms. Maria recalled, " "I have to watch my son." "