My Story Ch. 1

On April 28, 1961 my mom pushed me out into the cold cruel world.  Right away my father didn't want me because I had carrot colored hair.  He really wanted another Son to help in the family grocery business.  After a few days I'm told he fell madly in love with me and decided to keep me.  Story of my life.... You gotta know me to love me!  Anyhoo, my Dad thought I hung the moon, red hair and all.

I have two older brothers (Hi Mike & Donnie!) that were always getting into trouble, and two years after me, my little sister (Hi Tina!) came along.  There were four of us rug rats, all two years apart.  My poor mother.  My mother is Irish-Catholic (Hi Mom!), my father was full-blooded Italian.  When worlds collide...

Anyhoo, I grew up like most kids in the sixties.  We made our own fun.  We played outside, beat each other up, and called each other names like "big fat pig".  It was great.  We loved each other very much, and still do.

My father was the kind of guy that would make you disappear if you harmed a hair on a loved one's head.  He was a hungry lion.  Nobody anywhere messed with him.  He had no fear.  He was the bravest toughest man I've ever known to this day.

One time some drifters rented a house on the next street.  They dog napped our St. Bernard, "Queenie", and tried to hold him ransom for $50 bucks.  That was a sorry day for them.

Another time some burglars tried to rob our store.  That was a sorry day for them.  

A lot of people that tried to mess with my dad had sorry days.

If his temper flared and he bit down on his finger, us kids knew to run for our lives.

What do you do when a hungry lion lives in the house?  You keep him well fed.  Weeeell FED.

to be continued........