My POP was a GREAT guy! He was an artist, a singer, a stonemason, a home builder, an Army Veteran and so many other things to his entire family and to those who worked for him or to anyone who knew him…
As a little girl, I idolized my Father… what Daddy’s Little Girl didn’t? I remember everyday looking out our front window– waiting impatiently for his return home from work and then finally, when his yellow pickup rolled into the driveway—
BAM—I was out the door like a bullet, arms open wide, yelling Poppyyyyy straight into his arms… He was a tall man and riding on his shoulders, as I so loved, made me feel like a giant even though, I was the baby of the family…
My father, Rafaello or Ralph, though 100% Italian from a Neapolitan family, was the quietest person you ever could meet-not to mention handsome with his brilliant green eyes, and black curly hair… He was also kind to a fault…
My most vivid memories are of him sitting quietly for hours at the dining room table—drawing, sketching, inking… he was an artist and I was in AWE of him.
Growing up, I was always asking him to draw this or that… I remember for some reason wanting him to draw a buffalo on a restaurant napkin one evening. I kept that napkin for years….
Sketch pads, pencils, charcoals, canvases, etc…. seemed to be everywhere in our little brick house. The dining room served as his after dinner sketching studio and the basement, as his water color/oil painting studio: complete with easel, paint tubes and brushes everywhere, a ping pong table and in cold weather—always a roaring fire in the fireplace he made himself.
Old Sketchpads were stuffed in drawers and falling out of closets…you see, my father was a child prodigy. He began drawing portraits before he went to school. He sketched- he painted- he inked a myriad of subjects…
His sister, my Aunt Rose told me stories of how during the WWII blackouts in New York, the whole family would sit around the kitchen table by candlelight, as he would draw different family member’s portraits.
By the time he was 18, he enlisted in the Army with the hope of getting stationed in Paris so that he could study art on the side there… That’s how he met my Mom.
They married in a church outside of Paris. My mother actually got to meet Eleanor Roosevelt in Paris as Mrs. Roosevelt often had GI brides over “for tea”.
While stationed in Paris, POP was assigned to become the Paris APO mail clerk. Only one person from his battalion was chosen for the position. The rest of his battalion got called to Korea and not one soldier from his unit survived.
POP never talked about that.
An equally huge part of my father’s soul---was the “undiscovered” Baritone that he was.
Our old Hi-Fi regularly blared every album of Mario Lanza Al Martino, Vic Damone, Jerry Vale, and Dean Martin—from Opera, Neopolitan Favs to Jazz—My father sang and sang them ALL!
EVERYTHING reminded him of a song! It sometimes got a bit annoying when you were asking him a serious question and his reply came back as 3 verses of some Dean Martin tune. Really, POP—does everything really remind you of a song?-- reply: “Everything’s comin’ up roses for me and for you!”……
You get the idea…..
POP’s brothers—all SIX of them were all in the construction business. My grandfather Carmine Milano, emigrated from Ariano Irpino in the early 1900’s to come to Croton on Hudson, New York for the construction of the famous the Croton Dam—now holding New York City’s source of water……
Construction was the family trade.
Not only did my POP build that beautiful brick fireplace, and the marble one in our living room—but our whole house! Our Little Brick House and a near identical one next door for his oldest Sister, Carmela…….
His oldest brother Angelo, owned the area in Croton, NY which was once known as Crugers. Crugers, where Jackie Gleason once owned “The Mansion” (as we kids called it), The now ruin of The McAndrews Estate complete with private zoo, water processing system, Dock and train station and Jerry Orbach lived down a mysterious dirt road there as well . The famous Vanderbilt Estate: Boscobel was once located at the bottom of the street, right off the beautiful Hudson River. They moved the whole estate up the river to Garrison and donated their property to the Veteran’s Administration.
Uncle Angelo sold my father our 1/2 acre lot for $500 I still have the receipt! And so while we all lived in our little apartment in nearby Peekskill, after work and on weekends, My POP worked on our little Brick House. And 4 year old me actually believed that I helped, as I was the “official” grout smoother. Pictured LEFT holding my precious tool!
So growing up with an artist POP was awesome! Literally!! And yes, he did sit me down many times, patiently teaching me the rudiments of portrait drawing……. I actually once won an Honorable Mention in a high school art contest!
Even so, I was totally consumed with the piano. Besides, as a hyper active youngster, I didn’t have that interior stillness that was needed to sit for hours doing artwork. My father, so calm—so still as he quietly worked and ME more of a super ball – a static electric bouncing personality. I just didn’t understand ZEN then.
Of course my POP frequently took me to art museums. I remember as a young adolescent going to the Louvre and spending many hours there. Unfortunately, I was not evolved enough to appreciate it.
I remember POP standing in front of countless masterpieces… As I would run around and even disappear for quite a while, then return and he’d still be at the SAME painting, staring at the brush strokes!
He was really an all around great father! Construction worker by day and then his family everywhere in between. He coached my brother’s baseball teams for many years. Played basketball, bad mitten, croquet anything and everything with my brother and me.
Yes, that little brick house was filled with many facets of art and its many mediums along with music—singing-- -- LOTS of singing—laughter and when I was accomplished enough, I became my father’s personal piano accompanist. I can still hear him belting out his favorite tune:
Blue Moon or when he channeled Italian—O SOLE MIO!
Today, I looked up the meaning of my father’s name:
People with the name Rafaello have a deep inner desire for order and physical creativity, and want to be involved in conventional, safe activities.
People with the name Rafaello are excellent at analyzing, understanding, and learning. They tend to be mystics, philosophers, scholars, and teachers. Because they live so much in the mind, they tend to be quiet and introspective, and are usually introverts. When presented with issues, they will see the larger picture. Their solitary thoughtfulness and analysis of people and world events may make them seem aloof, and sometimes even melancholy.
I miss you POP—you were my O Sole Mio- the “sunshine” of my life.
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