Albert J. Faustini, 91, passed away Sunday, October 14, in a San Luis Obispo hospital.
Al was born in a rustic family farmhouse in Homeworth, Ohio in October 1920 to Paul and Aurora Faustini, the youngest of four siblings. He grew up in Ohio and Florida, graduating from Miami Beach Senior High School. After serving in the Army Signal Corps in World War II, Al received a degree in electrical engineering from Georgia Tech in 1947.
After graduation, Al worked for General Electric in Buffalo, NY, where he met Alice Kuczka, whom he married in 1954. Shortly thereafter, the couple embarked on a 14-month adventure, driving around the US, Mexico and Canada in a milk truck that Al converted into a camper dubbed “The Happy Wanderer” before RVs had been invented.
A business opportunity brought Al and Alice to Oakland, California in 1957, where they settled and raised their four children: Paul, Kathy, John, and Mary. Al had a long and successful career as an engineer, working for Photon Inc., American Optical, Berkeley Scientific Laboratories, Oximetrics Corp., and Abbott Laboratories, retiring in 1989. He was the holder of several patents.
Al was a man of integrity and generosity. A lifelong Catholic, Al was an active parishioner at St. Elizabeth’s Church in Oakland for four decades, serving as a lector for many years. He often said that his greatest joy in life was his children. He loved the outdoors and went on many camping and backpacking trips with his family, the last at the age of 86 to Yellowstone. He was an avid skier and hit the slopes into his 70s.
After retirement Al fulfilled a lifetime dream, building his own home in Placerville, where he enjoyed the woodlands, puttered, read, and relaxed. In 2007 he moved to San Luis Obispo to live with his daughter Kathy and her husband Dave and their daughters. He was a familiar sight to the neighbors as he took daily walks with Flip and Apache through the neighborhood and into Prefumo Canyon.
Al is survived by his brother John Faustini (Doris) of Jacksonville, Fl., son Paul Faustini of West Hartford Ct., daughter Kathy Keil (Dave) of San Luis Obispo, son John Faustini (Jeanne Negley) of Atlanta Ga., and daughter Mary Price (Rand) of Eagle River, Ak., and by granddaughters Michaela and Kaitlyn Keil.
Tributes
Leave a tributeby Raymond Carver
And did you get what
you wanted from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself
beloved on the earth.
This poem speaks to the life of Al, a dear man, father of my dear son in law. I miss him.
Leave a Tribute
Please be patient.
Homecoming
I want to share one of my early childhood memories about how dad would arrive home when we were kids, as it illustrates his character. As he came up the front porch steps, he sounded a loud and distinctive whistle using his lips and teeth. This was our cue to spring into action: We would all crowd around the front door to greet him. I am the youngest, and I was small enough to “hide” behind the door. He would open the door and wade into a mob of Paul, Kathy and John, and when he got far enough past the door, I would jump out at him. Of course, he would always act surprised.
Often, he would wrestle with us all for a few minutes. Sometimes, this wrestling was in the form of “Pillow and Blanket.” He would declare he was tired, and lie down on the living room floor. Then he said he was uncomfortable, and he’d pull one of us down and prop his head on that child as a pillow. He said he was cold, and his big, strong, yet gentile hands would capture another child to drape across himself for a blanket. Then he said he needed another blanket or a softer pillow; but in trying to capture the needed item, the pillow or blanket would escape, and the game would continue. Dad, lying on his back, would try to capture us as we danced around him, trying to be as close as possible yet staying just out of reach. Dad’s arrival home each day was a happy celebration – a joyous reunion.
This type of greeting went on before I can remember to some years after I was walking, so it spanned quite a few years. I work full-time, and I am now about the same age he was when I first recall this happening (no spring chickens). When I come home after a busy day of work and a commute in heavy traffic, I am tired and ready for a few minutes of quiet and relaxation. He probably was tired too, but he set that aside and made himself fully available to us. Each day he gave us the gift of shared joy.
When I first met Al
I first met Al in 1990. His son, John, had started a walk across the country; when John announced he was going to be walking across the country and would be gone for about nine months, I decided I liked him.
John and I decided to meet in Santa Fe during the spring of his cross-county trek, and I got this call from a man that made me think of Santa Claus. It was Al. He had jovial-sounding voice, and laughed quite a bit. I agreed to have dinner with him.
I drove to his home, which was in a scary part of Oakland, and I found that he had invited a second young woman, his niece, Gina Castro, to have dinner with us. So, here we were-- Al and two young women and enough food to easily feed ten. We had potato leek soup, salad (with lots of veggies and homemade dressing), chicken with a tomato sauce and sliced onions placed carefully on top. All homemade. All delicious. Al’s dining room and kitchen were separate rooms, and he kept popping up out of his chair and running to the kitchen to serve Gina and me. We burst out laughing when he brought out the strawberry shortcake for dessert. He had thought of everything. It was so much food, and he made it all.
I thought Al invited me to dinner because he wanted to meet me. That was part of it. He also wanted me to deliver a See’s Candies rocky road Easter egg to John. (It was spring after all.) And so began my life with Al Faustini. He called me his girl, and I loved him. I am grateful to have known him and to be included in his fold.