Louie's 235 Italian Relatives

CALVARY CEMETERY

“Grandpa died when I was six. I was at Auntie Lou’s on the 3rd floor when my old cousin Lorraine called us. I didn’t understand death then, but I understood that I would never see my grandfather in this lifetime again. I wanted to go to the funeral home to say good-by … but no children were allowed.

So the day after the funeral…. I went to the cemetery myself….Calvary Cemetery… right up the street from my grammar school. It was a pretty big cemetery for a little kid. I immediately felt at home. I had no fear of  “spooks or ghosts” as I had seen in horror films. I stopped at several tombstones …talking to the names on the stones……asking them to please lead me to my grandfather, Nichola….as if to expect an answer. I had the confidence and the trust that someone would show me the way. There was never any doubt. And it was no coincidence that there happened to be a nice old Italian man who was removing flowers from a gravesite and putting them into a truck. Without any hesitation, I asked him if he knew where I might find my grandfather Nichola Dimuzio. The caretaker said that Nicola was near the cemetery dump and that he would be happy to take me there. I got into his truck and before you knew it…we arrived..

It was just a piece of land with newly planted grass….there was no tombstone like the others. I remember my first thought…how can someone that I love be living in the ground. It was at that moment that I understood the meaning of death. I cried oceans of teardrops. But I knew Grandpa didn’t want to see me this way. So I did the thing that my grandfather loved the most…. I entertained him. I sang his two favorite Italian songs….Torna Sorrento ……and She Wore an Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini. The wind swelled after I sang. I knew he liked it.

I proceeded to tell him some funny stories and how my day went at school. It was as comfortable as if he were sitting at the kitchen table. (Grandpa’s Song: Sparrow Wings) see Louie Music

Grandpa’s new home became my playground… where I went to visit every day after school. I had someone to talk to…someone to entertain. After a while I made friends with Grandpa’s roommates…..the Dimilios who were to the left….. the Albini’s, to the right and the Fazzones who were behind my Grandpa. and even some people whose name didn’t end in a vowel. I asked Mama why, She said they were probably “Irish peoples”

That same year, I was chosen to compete in the Waterbury Park Dept Talent contest ……which included over 20 parks in the area. It was  Waterbury’s answer to the American Idol but more like the Ginzo Idol….since mostly everybody was Italian … except a few of those” Irish peoples” I, of course, sang Grandpa’s two favorite Italian Songs….. Torna Sorrento and She wore an itsy bitsy teeny weenie Yellow Polka dot Bikini. I wore shorts, with suspenders. I was competing against mostly older kids 12-16…… but I was cute….and I was the only contestant who sang without a microphone. I won first place and received a Brownie camera and $50. Grandpa was so happy. That money went right into my bankbook. I told everyone I was saving my money for a castle.

That same year there was a dance contest at Lowe’s Polio winner would receive a year of free lessons at the Betty Mallon Dance Studio.

My mom brought me to the Betty Mellon Dance academy where I was partnered with Donna Fortin, a nice blonde girl from Naugatuck where mostly “Polish peoples” lived .Mama said that Donna wasn’t Polish and she wasn’t Italian but she was a good dancer. We practiced for the competition. We did a modern jazz routine together followed by a tap dance solo that I did with a plastic snake. My dad took the 45 millimeter film clips back then.. I am amazed at what perfect timing and synchronization we had for being so young.

We won first place. I really didn’t want the dance instructions, so when I received my prize on stage I asked if I could get the money instead. Everyone laughed and thought I was funny. But I was serious. I remember thinking to myself ….”. Why would I want to spend a year in a class with people who imitate what the teacher tells them to do? I could create my own steps…..just give me a theatre.

One day, I am sitting on the grass ,talking to my grandpa…when the nice Italian man in the big truck pulls up to the dump and proceeds to empty bouquets  and baskets of flowers onto the ground. As soon as the truck leaves…. I walk over to the dump to see the flowers that have been removed from today’s funeral. While I didn’t understand it at the time, I discovered something inside me that filled me up like nothing I had ever experienced…other than singing and dancing.

I starred at the beauty of all these flowers….wondering why they were made into all these unusual shapes …..crosses, hearts, wreaths, bibles. There were lace ribbons and bright shinny satin ribbons. I can still remember my very first thought: “Why are some of the color and flower combinations in these bouquets… so ugly? Are they cheap because they’re ugly or are they ugly because they’re cheap? I began to sort through the huge pile of flowers. The baskets had the freshest flowers, so I began pulling them apart first and laying them in separate piles on the grass. To my excitement, there were all kinds of flowers I had never seen before---- except for gladiolas….. which we had in our garden. I hated gladiolas. Anyway…..I became more and more excited as I began discovering more and more baskets….. more and more different kinds of flowers.. I then removed all the assorted colored bows and placed them in another very neat pile.

 I had an idea. All my friends and cousins had lemonade stands on my street. There were at least 8 stands. They sat out in the sun for almost 3 or 4 hours, making 25 or 30cents on a good day. Now I wasn’t a genius, but I knew that I didn’t want to sit all day in the hot sun to make 25cents. So I had an idea.

I decided to take the flowers   …and  I would refashion” them into bouquets of TASTEFUL colors with a TASTEFUL coordinating bow---- and then  sell them on the street corner at the entrance to the cemetery….. where people would be entering to visit the new homes of their loved ones….just like my Grandpa. Since I already had personal style in dressing up with my mothers cloths--- I certainly had the confidence to put together a lovely bouquet.

The first day I assembled 6 bouquets ---since that was all I could carry to the cemetery entrance. Now came the task of where to sell them……… which entrance was the best? Next to one of the cemetery entrances… was a gas station where many people stopped for gas or walked by before they entered the cemetery. So I proceeded to the station with my 6 FABULOUS bouquets. I was so proud.

Once I arrived, I realized I had no “for sale” sign. So as people walked by or stopped to purchase gasoline, I had no shame whatsoever to approach them and ask them if they were interested in purchasing one of my beautiful bouquets. It certainly was a reasonable price of $1 ……and after all this wasn’t just ANY bouquet….. this was a Little Louie Designer Bouquet. Besides…how could you say no to a cute little kid with big brown Italian eyes? To make a long story shorter, I sold my 6 bouquets in less then 1 hour. The flowers that had come from the cemetery … had gone back right to where they had come from. I was recycling…. on the cutting edge of ecology…..even before ecology knew I was on the cutting edge of ecology.

Six dollars was a lot of money back then in 1956.

Well I was happy happy!!!!

<< Previous | Next >>