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My painting of the Red Baron's triplane, at age five (1974) |
“Honor your father and your mother.” ~ Fifth Commandment
Slowly and methodically going through my late parent’s belongings, I recently unearthed a few personal possessions I was unaware of and others more near and dear to me that I believed to have been long gone. In an effort to appear less dour to our less austere readership, I thought it would be a nice respite from our usual severity and share some of these light-hearted discoveries with you.
I think I may have mentioned this already in an older post, but when I was a boy I was unusually fascinated with military history, especially the Great War. Surrounded by veterans and raised by a passionate outdoorsman (my progenitor was an avid hunter, fisherman and equestrian, among other things), I was enthralled by WWI flying aces and cavalry, the Arditi and Freikorps, and the French Foreign Legion (go figure). My doting mother taught me the joy of reading for pleasure, which allowed me to pursue these and other "odd" historical interests.
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My paternal grandfather's WWII US M8 dagger with custom handle, several vintage souvenir postcard books from Napoli and Pompei, and a 1971 Italian American Civil Rights League button |
By Jove, how things have changed. While today’s youth idolize vapid pop stars, athletes, and other insipid influencers, my childhood heroes were Manfred von Richthofen, aka the “Red Baron,” Gabriele D’Annunzio, and Fulco Ruffo di Calabria. In fact, these men of action are so dear to me that I still have their portraits pinned on a corkboard by my desk. |
The current disorderly configuration of my corkboard |
The one hero I can think of who I admired for his non-military exploits was the French oceanographer, Jacques-Yves Cousteau, though, if I remember correctly, he was a naval officer in WWII and carried out daring commando raids against the Axis in France.
I only mention them because my parents kept some of my childhood drawings of sea creatures (undated) and a painting of the Red Baron’s Fokker Triplane I made in 1974. I know I only painted two wings on the plane, but seeing as I was just five years old at the time, I think this unwitting omission can be excused.
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Poor spelling aside, I think I did a decent job copying (tracing?) illustrations of sharks, whales and other sea creatures from my oceanographic books |
An imaginative child (if I may say so), I was prone to pareidolia and often saw strange images in the clouds, stars, and other random patterns. Speaking of stars, not only do I remember seeing lots of them in the night sky when I was a boy, but my paternal grandmother used to teach me about the constellations. As for the illusory images, I find that I still often see ghastly demonic faces on the dirty speckled floors of subway cars resembling ill-bred straphangers during my trying commute. It seems I didn’t just hold fast to my childhood heroes but also to my vivid imagination.
One summer day in 1977, while on a family canoe trip down the Delaware River, I found a rock that resembled a handgun. I kept my stony "six-shooter" all day for protection against desperados and wild animals. That night, unbeknownst to me, my father took the rock and painted a revolver on it. Needless to say, I was overjoyed the next morning. As well you can imagine, I was even more surprised and choked up to learn he kept that rock all these years.
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I must have had some imagination to think this rock resembled a pistol |
I almost couldn’t believe my eyes when I opened an old beat-up Handy Andy toolbox and discovered my vintage Cox U.S. Army HO scale train set inside. One of the more memorable presents I ever received from Babbo Natale (aka Father Christmas), it brought back so many fantastic memories. My father and I spent countless hours designing model railroad layouts and operating the trains together. In a state of disrepair and missing tracks, I’m going to do my best to get them up and running again in time for next Christmas. |
My favorite model train set was stored in an old tool box |
There are still a few old photos, vintage comics (Savage Sword of Conan) and children's books (Tintin, Babar, etc.) that elude me, but luckily I still have more boxes to search through. I'm not sure why, but I was also hoping to find my baby teeth. I have a faint recollection of my mother collecting them in a small vial. Knowing my parents, there just may be a few more surprises in store for me. |
Among the photos, I found this picture of my father's fishing boat in Sheepshead Bay Marina, Brooklyn, New York |
Sadly, my mom and dad didn’t keep everything. As traditional and old-fashioned as they were in many ways, over the years they updated the house decor to more voguish furnishings. No offense if your family did, but thank goodness we were too working-class to have gaudy plush rugs and plastic-encased furniture. Most disappointingly, they got rid of my father’s hunting trophies (an eight-point buck and wild boar); Spanish morriĆ³n, shield and crossed falchion swords mounted on the wall; and my maternal grandmother's antique chaise longue. I don’t care how kitsch or out of fashion they may be, I would give anything to have those items today. |
Portrait of me etched in tinfoil by a street artist at (if I remember correctly) the Feast of St. Anthony of Padua in the South Village, New York City, in 1972 |
Looking back fondly, I can’t believe how blessed I truly was. We didn’t have much in terms of material possessions, but we were wanting for nothing. I’m convinced I had the best childhood. My parents were attentive and loving and I cannot sing their praises enough. Sorely missed, they will forever be in my heart and prayers.
Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.
~ By Giovanni di Napoli, February 11th, Feast of Our Lady of Lourdes