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I am not afraid of dying…

gene candeloro

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8 min read

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Jul 23, 2021

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I was sitting in my big comfy chair overlooking the lake. I was waiting for my son to pick me up. I just wasn’t as excited to see him this visit. He was late, as usual. This time I was glad. I started drifting off. Suddenly my entire life was flashing before my eyes. Oh, what a grand life it’s been! I have lived all over this great country. What a lucky kid — I grew up looking at the skyline of NYC every day.
I was born of an Italian immigrant and Sinatra from Hoboken. I didn’t realize when I was young that I had two wonderful parents. We had a circle of loving aunts, uncles, grandparents, and cousins. A wonderful sister that I now love more and more each day as we age not so gracefully together! Fighters we are! My family taught me love, respect, and the blessings of a loving family. Our every get-together became a feast. The Italian table was the altar of our family religion.
That city across the river became my hometown. Even as a teenager I felt the excitement of NYC. I traveled the alleys in Chinatown for a greasy bag of fresh hot dumplings. I went on drug deals with my crazy friends. I waited in line with anticipation for the new, hit Broadway play. I saw the basketball
greats at Madison Square Garden, trips to Yankee Stadium! I saw Mickey Mantle, Whitey Ford, Yogi Berra, and Roger Maris! I saw the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade a dozen times and braved the cold and the tens of thousands of crowds on New Year Eve in Times Square. NYC, the…