My big brother Stephen. So many real deal childhood memories. The kind you never forget, and several that reoccur in my dreams. My God I idolized you and tried to emulate you in so many ways. You were the older brother who seemed to include me in your fun and made the neighborhood kids jealous with your cool factor. Letting me tag along to the beach while you showed off your surfing skills, scaling the eucalyptus trees in the creek behind our house with your lineman spikes and stopping by with your cherry picking truck to give my friends rides up to the tree tops. One indelible ealry childhood memory I still have dreams about today was refusing to leave mom and dads street facing bedroom balcony during your welcome home party from your Navy service. You were several hours delayed but I was so intent to see you first before anyone else in the family. To this day I don’t think I have experienced the sort of anticipation I felt that day to see my big brother return. I remember helping out in Dad’s store with you after you returned from the Navy. A group of 6-8 neighborhood teenagers came in store and Dad locked the front door (as he often had to do) so that we could watch them to prevent stealing. I watched with trepidation as you connected with them and talked to them for an hour. When they left and you shook all their hands,  2 boys handed you Levi’s jeans hidden under their jackets and hopefully never stole from Dad again. When you married Cheryl and John was born and even after Chris, you both made me feel like I was part of your family. That love and generosity made me feel like I had younger brothers. You even included me on camping vacations while Dad was still working 6 days a week at his store. The cool factor. Your chopper motorcycle, your Ford van with the mag wheels and gold colored velour loveseat in the back. I remember the 8 track player and the best music of my lifetime. Eagles, Santana, Doobies, Loggins and Messina, Earth Wind and Fire… you bought me my first album when I was 12,  The Ohio Players. I remember you taking me to my first little league tryouts in your van. God, I’m not sure if I be experienced butterflies like that ride to this day.  A true rite of passage in my mind as I for some unexplainable reason remember  Neil Young’s “searching for a heart of gold” was playing on the radio and having you there made me feel confident. Fast forward to watching you play softball for Budweiser one of only two major level teams in CA, The “Outlaws” and The “Folks”.  You would  literally  hit 3 or 4 home runs a game. You and your teammates were bigger than life. Too many stories to recount. One that stands out is your huge left fielder Barry tearing out the toilet from the Bit of England bar and throwing it out the back door. You seemed to be the guy bailing out your friends! Did you ever lose a game? I still cherish your #7 Budweiser jersey hanging in my closet now. I remember and thank you for the time you spent playing tennis with me and introducing me to your cool/ wealthy/ restaurant owning tennis friends. Hahaha which lead to my first jobs as a busboy and parking valet.  The  seemingly countless times we spent playing each other in tennis, waiting for courts and making fun of the “doofos” and then finally the huge accomplishment of  beating you. You said you would never beat me again and I’ll always remember that life milestone that has held true with my own daughters. So many memories on B Street playing with John and Chris and Chicken Unlimited dinners. Deciding on chicken dinner or hamburger dinner was always a tough call. You’re less than healthy eating in your young Dad years!  Eating 10 Jack in the Box Tacos and 2 cheeseburgers, Cheryl stacking up 12 BLT sandwiches on your plate and watching you demolish them. Your old secret is now
out! Going to East West football  tailgates with Renzo, Luciano, and Leroy and a crew of 22 rowdies. It’s amazing nobody ever got arrested! Oh wait…scratch that last comment.  I never failed to take notice how affectionate you are with your kids and have made sure to be the same with mine. My God how many times you tried to kiss me on the lips with your prickly mustache. I also thank you for keeping our Italian and Irish heritages alive and using food and keeping traditional family get togethers a priority by hosting many dinners in RWC with Judy.  I’ll always remember how beautifully you treated Nonna and Mom. And the best childhood memories of all, the Sunday dinners with your family and Nonna, Lina and Charlie. The raviolis, green spaghetti, minestrone, focaccia, and Mom’s stew. Playing Casino and spoons and listening to the after dinner political arguments with you and Dad vs Sally and Jeannie. I pray that you’re reliving those same meals with Nonna’s raviolis, armwrestlijg with Giobatta Montedonico, and finally learning to speak Italian.

Love you BIG.  

Dano