 
Tponetom
Member
Username: Tponetom
Post Number: 230
Registered: 06-2007
| | Posted on Friday, February 15, 2008 - 10:12 pm: |    |
A Detroit Burial
Vinnie, Mike, George and myself were charter members of the Dirty Dozen long before Lee Marvin ever had a clue. I would sue Marvin for usurpation of our Charter Title Name except for the fact that he is dead. Let the hide go with the hair.
This is about Vinnie. 6 feet, 2 inches tall, skinny as a rail but with a pair of hands that were like talons. He could wrap his hand around a football and make his thumb meet his little finger. (All right, remember poetic license.) Our playground on Murray Street had two alleys intersecting it. The distance between those alleys was forty yards.
We would usually get a 3 on 3 game going and sometimes, 4 on 4, and not very often,
5 on 5. When Vinnie and I were on the same team, we had but one ‘play.’ I would tell him to throw that G. D. ball as high and as far as he could possibly throw it and I would be there to catch it. Vinnie had the talons and I had the glue, on my fingers that is. If I could get one finger on the ball I would hang on to it. The play seldom failed. He would fade back ten yards from the first alley and rifle the ball to me, twenty yards past the second alley. Yes, 70 yards. No poetic license.
In an earlier post I had mentioned that Vinnie, 2 and a half years older than me, would pay me a dime to help him deliver his Detroit News route on Holcomb Street.
When he pitched a baseball at you there was little or no attempt to hit it because you couldn’t see it. His right arm must have been at least four feet long and he had a wrist that could snap like a bull whip. So, more poetic license. He was gooood.
Vinnie, Mike and I would ride our bikes to Belle Isle. We always took the same route. South on McClellan to Vernor Highway, west to East Grand Boulevard and then south to the Bridge. WE had a single ritual that we always observed. When crossing Lafayette Street we would throw both arms up in the air and scream at the top of our lungs, “LAFAYETTE, WE ARE HERE!” Of course we were mimicking the U. S. troops that arrived in France during World War One, shouting that rallying cry, in recognition of France’s help during our Revolutionary period.
In 1978, Mike and his family first moved to St. Davids, AZ., and then to Tucson.
In 1985 George and his wife moved to Black Canyon City, AZ.
In 1995 I moved to Tucson and the following
year, Vinnie and his wife moved to Tucson,
so there were four of us dating back to 1935.
None of us took particular joy in the inferno called ‘summer’ in Arizona.
I had to leave the Upper Peninsula because I could no longer walk more than 50 yards without intense pain in my left knee. The first four years in Arizona seemed to alleviate the arthritis to the point of my being able to walk nine holes of golf. But then the piper came calling and took over both of my knees. In January of 2001 I had the left knee replaced and three months later I had the right one replaced as well. Coming out of the anesthesia of both operations, I had no pain. Nothing. To this day, I have never had any pain whatsoever. Swelling? Yes. Stiffness? Yes. Poor Flexion? Yes, at times. But no pain. So it was a good trade off.
The four of us spent Christmas together in 2004. Two weeks later Vinnie was sick enough to go to the hospital. Two weeks later they took a ‘grapefruit’ out of his stomach. On March 21 he died. He had just past his birthday which was March 15. In our youth, one of his catch phrases was, “Beware the Ides of March.” Perhaps he had a premonition.
Vinnie was a veteran of the Korean War. His ashes were put in a crypt (mailbox?) in the military cemetery at Fort Huachuca near Sierra Vista.
The sadness, to me, was not so much that Vinnie died but the grim permanence of having his burial place in such an obscure location. His ashes should have been spread in the backyard of the four family flat he lived in for 15 years.
The flat burned down about ten years ago but the land is still there.
There is something about the land and the Irish. Vince was Italian but who can tell the difference when all of the ashes are mixed together.
Peggy and I have made plans to be in Michigan sometime after April 15. I told her I will take a lock of hair from both of us and drop them in Donohue’s back yard which parallels the alley behind our old homes. You, know, just in case.
Mike and I are still here in Tucson. George is in not too good a shape and they just recently moved to Ohio to stay with one of their ten children. George was an only child. Go figure. |
Rickinatlanta
Member
Username: Rickinatlanta
Post Number: 137
Registered: 07-2006
| | Posted on Friday, February 15, 2008 - 10:21 pm: | |
It's really gratifying how one's values of importance change as we get older. The old neighborhood I left in 1970, I would LOVE to be able to go back to now. Simpler and far more innocent! |
Kathleen
Member
Username: Kathleen
Post Number: 2774
Registered: 10-2003
| | Posted on Saturday, February 16, 2008 - 6:21 am: | |
To Vinnie! And to you, Tponetom, as well as Mike and George!! Lifelong friends are a blessing! |
Eriedearie
Member
Username: Eriedearie
Post Number: 807
Registered: 08-2007
| | Posted on Saturday, February 16, 2008 - 8:38 am: | |
Tp, keep on posting your rememories. I think we all look forward to each and every one. I have even gone back to reread them.
I love the part about the Lafayette crossing yell  |
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