The Beginning

I keep remembering growing up Brooklyn style. I was born in St Vincent Hospital in Manhattan, and move to Brooklyn at the age of 4. I was the fifth of soon to be six children.  My family was poor, so we didn’t do a lot of traveling. The neighborhood we moved to in Brooklyn was not the best of neighborhoods.

My father was born in Italy, on the island of Capri. He came over from Italy at the age of 18 in 1949. My father became a U.S. Citizen in 1951. He met my Mom not too much later and they were married. My Mom was born in New Jersey. My Mom was the only girl in her family, she had three brothers. I was told that her father left when she was young.

Growing up in Brooklyn wasn’t easy for me. I always had to fight to survive. Everyone in the neighborhood wanted to be the toughest.  We didn’t get along with all our neighbors. This one guy named Johnny was always trying to take advantage of everyone.

Johnny would pick on anyone he could, from young to old. I remember Johnny trying pick on my father, and that was Johnny’s mistake. My father grabbed Johnny by the shirt and just tossed him on the ground and I hear Johnny threaded my father, but my father just blew Johnny off.
 
We lived there for three years. We moved two blocks away to an area called Carroll Gardens. It was a little better neighborhood, but I had to start over with the neighborhood bullies.