To us kids, his grandkids, he was Grandpa but to Grandma Frances he was Raphael.
Raphael
was a very calm man, serene, almost never said much, but when he did, everybody
would pause for the moment and then continue on in life. He was a handsome man,
who wore a mustache all his life. In fact, when he was born my great
grandfather is rumored to have said: "Che Cosa è quella cosa sotto il suo
naso?"
Grandpa
was Grandma's right-hand man, handyman, go to guy, and doer of all chores.
Grandpa tried to avoid grandma but only during his waking hours.
Grandpa
had a grey fedora he wore, it seemed like every moment of every day. I think he
was born in it. In fact, it is rumored that my great grandfather (Who had a lot
to say) once said when grandpa was born: "Da dove quel cappello è
venuto?"
Every
Sunday Grandma would go to church at Our Lady of Loretto on Sackman Street in
Brooklyn. That's "A Sackaman Streeet, a Brookaleen" as she would say.
Grandpa did his praying too. While Grandma prayed for deliverance from the
evils of the world, Grandpa prayed that she would leave him alone for ten
minutes. So while Grandma was in church, Grandpa was next door at the
Republican Club-playing poker.
One
Easter Sunday as was the custom, the whole clan gathered on Fulton Street for
Easter dinner at Grandma's house. It was never Grandpa's house, always
Grandma's house. They came from Hull Street, Coney Island and Patchogue, NY,
all dressed in our Sunday best, all expecting to eat heartily and listen to
tales of Italy, Naples, and Bari. The men would gather after dinner to play
cards and the ladies gossip while the cousins all congregated in the long
hallway to play.
This
one Sunday dinner was almost ready, but no one could find Grandpa! Grandma was
stirring the big pasta pot and ordered one of the kids to go next door to the
Republican Club and get Grandpa and tell him to she said to come NOW!
Just
then Dad started to relate to me a story about Grandpa.
It
seems it was a Sunday long ago and dad was about 10-years old, and Grandpa was
missing as dinner was about to be served. Grandma sent Dad out to get Grandpa
from the Republican Club to quit his card game and come home to a diner.
Dad
followed orders and went searching for Grandpa, found him like Grandma said,
holding his cards close to his vest a Napoli cigar stuck in his mouth, a shot
of whiskey on the table next to his red, white and blue chips. Dad relayed the
info from Grandpa and went home. No Grandpa shows up!
Grandma
is furious and tells Dad to go once more and get Grandpa and tell him he better
come because she means business. Off Dad goes, returns and still no grandpa!
Grandma
makes a phone call and waits by the front door. This is the late twenties when
a paddy wagon comes and raids the Republican Club. She goes outside and stands
to watch as the police lead out the gamblers one at a time. Out comes Grandpa,
who says: "Francesca, dice loro che sono il vostro marito." (Frances,
tell them I'm your husband.)
The
police ask Grandma if she knows who he is and will she take him home.
"I'ma
sorry officer, I'ma no know him."
Grandpa
always came immediately after that.
No comments:
Post a Comment