A life well lived; a man well loved

Happy Birthday, Dad. Wow, 100 years old tomorrow.

OK, so you didn’t quite make it to 100. Missed by 19 years. But that doesn’t matter. The family is still getting together to celebrate.

And, besides, you really packed a lot into those first 81 years.

To give it a bit of perspective, the song that was in the news during your first year on earth was a patriotic one – “Over There,” written by George M. Cohan. It saluted the American troops who were headed to Europe to fight in World War I.

And, 100 years later, another patriotic song is in the news – “The Star Spangled Banner.” But this time it is because a number of millionaire athletes have decided to disrespect the National Anthem and our country by protesting “oppression.” I’m sure you would be among the first to defend their right to protest … at the same time pointing out the hypocrisy of their “beef” (one of your favorite terms) in the most un-oppressed country on earth.

You saw and experienced so much during your lifetime.

You were spared from the scarlet fever epidemic in the 1920s, although two of your sisters were affected.

I remember the stories of your favorite high school job – delivering clothes to a laundry at Broad and Lehigh. Part of your pay was an “American Grandstand” pass to the Philadelphia A’s games at, then, Shibe Park. You got to see your heroes – Lefty Grove, Jimmy Foxx, Mickey Cochrane, Al Simmons, et al – battle the Mighty Yankees and win three straight pennants.

That was the start of a long love affair you had with the game. In your later years you actually preferred listening to baseball on radio, wearing headphones as you did jobs around the house. Efficiency, always, was utmost for someone who was trained as an engineer.

You lived through the Great Depression and always remarked how fortunate your family was that Grandpop retained his job with Abbotts Dairies, while so many others went without work.

And you were one of the first to enlist for military duty in 1941 – even before Pearl Harbor. You told about how your Army Air Corps division broke camp in Ohio – a few days before the Japanese surprise attack – and started driving in convoy to San Francisco.

You were on the first ships sent to the Pacific Theater, eventually making it to New Guinea to construct runways for airplanes. And your division arrived before the shipments of armaments – cutting down trees, painting them and putting them in place to look like anti-aircraft guns, in order to fool Japanese reconnaissance planes.

Many of the experiences during the war were part of family discussions – except your injuries and the resultant Purple Heart, earned while saving aircraft from fire damage during a bombing attack. Like so many from the “Greatest Generation,” those accomplishments were cloaked in humble silence.

After returning from the war, you began work as a draftsman/engineer and married the neighborhood beauty. What a handsome couple.

Then you again were on the cutting edge – in the early wave of exodus from South Philadelphia to the suburbs. It was your way of assimilation into the American culture of your peers … and away from the Italian-American culture of your parents’ generation. You weren’t ashamed of your heritage, you just wanted to be as American as possible. I realize now that might have been the reasoning behind your favorite meals of hot dogs and baked beans, pot roast or pork chops.

You and Mom raised three children – starting in Clifton Heights, moving to Broomall, then building the house of your dreams in Plymouth Meeting.

On a rare trip that did not include the kids, you and Mom went to New York City for a weekend. The highlight was seeing Frank Sinatra perform spectacularly at the famous Riviera nightclub high above the Hudson River in Palisades, New Jersey. How shocked you would be to see the current vulgar music scene … dominated by rappers such as Nicki Minaj and Lil’ Wayne.

In your career, you moved from airplanes (Boeing) to helicopters (Piasecki). Then you found your favorite niche – the race to outer space. First on the Jupiter project, then from start to finish

on the Apollo project, you worked with General Electric. In 1960, at GE’s 32nd and Chestnut Street facility, thanks to you, I got to meet Baker, the first monkey to survive spaceflight. You went one better, when you got to meet John Glenn, after he became the first man to orbit the earth. Your pride was unmatched.

Unmatched until July 20, 1969. That was the day Neil Armstrong, captain of Apollo 11, took his “one giant leap for mankind” and became the first man on the moon. I remember you set up the 35mm camera to take photographs of the televised coverage – recording the moment for family posterity.

You attended baseball’s All-Star game in 1976 at Veterans Stadium, as part of the year-long bicentennial celebration in the city. And you were in the stands to see the Phillies finally win a World Series in 1980.

But your favorite Phillies moment might have been an otherwise uneventful game in 1986 … except for the fact that it was a grand celebration of your 80th birthday. Giant letters on the scoreboard wished you a happy birthday. Public address announcer Dan Baker gave you a tour of the scoreboard operation room and the press box (showing the seat I occupied while writing sports columns about the Phillies and Eagles). Then the highlight – an impromptu party in the broadcast booth with Harry Kalas, Richie Ashburn and Chris Wheeler.

By that age, you were in the midst of your battle with Alzheimer’s disease … but baseball always snapped you back into mental clarity. After a few minutes of conversation, Ashburn’s incredible wit stole the moment. He turned to me and said, loud enough for all to hear, “Tony, I thought you said your Dad was sick. He seems a helluva lot sharper than you ever were.”

Since you’ve been gone, a lot has happened in this world. Some good … and some bad.

Two of the best things you missed were the graduation of your grandson and granddaughter from college – Lehigh and Immaculata. You would have been so proud.

You missed the Phillies winning another World Series in 2008. But you would have been disgusted by blown opportunities in ’09 and ’10. And, yes, the Eagles are still waiting for another championship. I remember listening to the last one, in 1960, on the day after Christmas during Pop-Pop’s birthday celebration on Chadwick Street in South Philly. It was a rare occasion when the radio was allowed to be played during dinner.

Luckily, you are missing the secularization of the American and European societies. A faithful Catholic, you were a proud member of the Men of Malvern, attending retreat every year on Father’s Day weekend. You were always so impressed by the lectures and resultant discussions with Villanova Augustinians, such as Father Shanley and Father Corley.

Americans also look quite different today. More than 40 percent of Americans, age 18 to 40, have at least one tattoo. They were rare back in your day. I remember, as a small child, remarking about a man with a large tattoo on his arm. You said, “He probably got that when he was in the Navy.”

Of course, I quickly asked, “You were in the service. How come you don’t have one?” You answered, “That’s not my style.” I countered with the typical child question, “Why.”

I never forgot your answer: “Some people do that to get attention. If you really want attention, the best way to get it is by doing something exceptional.”

While many people of your generation do not understand young America’s obsession with the cell phone, you would have probably embraced it. You were never adverse to technical advancements.

Except for the garbage disposal. It only had to clog one time and you pulled it out of the sink. Tie up garbage in a little plastic bag and dispose of it properly in the trash can. Unlike every new version of television, recording equipment and electrical tool, the garbage disposal was one modern convenience for which you had no use.

You watched and analyzed -- through truly color-blind eyes – the race riots of the ‘60s. And you respected the passion of Martin Luther King. You would probably be surprised to see race relations again deteriorate in recent years – so many years after that era of tension, confrontation and eventual resolution through rational discourse.

You voted for presidential candidates – both Democrat and Republican – always judging the candidates by the important issues and not their personalities. You would be reviled by the state of the current presidential election.

Yes, a lot has changed over these 100 years. Some things for the better … and some for the worse.

The family will probably discuss a lot of these things when we get together this weekend to celebrate at the Spring House Tavern. I wonder if they have hot dogs and baked beans on the menu. If so, I think that’s what I will order.