aka "Uncle"
The Story of Antonio (Tony) LaPietra
aka "Uncle"
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What was a gathering of family and friends without the presence of “Uncle”? This sixth child of Angela Nasuti and Francesco Paolo (Peter Paul) LaPietra is well remembered by his siblings, nieces and nephews, grand nieces and nephews for the sense of joy and entertainment he brought to his extended family. Tony’s early life was quite normal in a childhood shared with eight siblings. We see him as a tow-head blonde in a family picture taken when he was not yet two years old. We see him as a good looking young man in his high school graduation pictures. But most of all, we see his personality and interpersonal relationships after his service in WWII. With his return to his home town of Fairport, Uncle began to establish himself as a dedicated bachelor whose work as a house painter brought him in contact with many people. His interaction with his customers was genuine and honest. His work brought return customers and a reputation as a conscientious painter and collector of customers’ cast-off items. These items were either delivered to organizations that cared for the poor or were added to the accumulation of years of collecting. His athleticism was recognized in both bowling and softball. He played ball into his 60’s where he was know as “Sudsy” in recognition of an appreciated bottle of beer. |
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Uncle made his mark with his family by the time and joy he displayed in his interactions with the young. A crying baby, a rambunctious two-year old or developing teen captured his attention. His playfulness was evident with the young. In many ways he was the instigator of a card or bocce game. The memories he created have become the core of family reminiscences. These were well recorded in the eulogy given by nephew, Jack Petti, that is reprinted below. |
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Uncle’s Eulogy
“Uncle”
We are gathered here today to celebrate the life of Antonio Tony “Sudsy” LaPietra. A man who didn’t like to touch people.
This was a man who never once willingly kissed any of his sisters, sisters-in-law, or nieces…even on their wedding day. This was a man who didn’t even like to shake hands; doing so only on the rarest of occasions. He was a head usher at Assumption church for many years, but I’m sure that on each and every Sunday he tried to avoid the sign of Peace handshake.
A man who didn’t like to touch people…
This was a man whose ability to communicate with family members was inversely proportional to their age. He was much more at ease talking with a two-year-old grand niece or grand nephew than he was with a 42 year old nephew or 84 year old sister. This man, who referred to himself simply as “Uncle”, sometimes showed a gruff exterior to older relatives, but yet delighted in family gatherings. He was the organizer of many a bocce or gin rummy game. He loved to talk about politics, world events, religion, and Art Bell. We will never forget his sense of humor, his philosophies, and his love of “leftovers to go”. We will always remember how his loud voice and piercing laughter could soar above a room. He was the life of the party. And if you looked closely enough, you could often catch him characteristically wiping a tear from his eye as he savored the moment.
A man who didn’t like to touch people…
And yet… he touched the child within so many of us. He was magical with children. He was happiest walking and cooing a crying infant, chasing a two year old or, perhaps, giving a tour of his barn and all its “treasures”.
I know I have many fond childhood memories of Uncle coming over to visit every Sunday. Now admittedly, part of the attraction was the fact that we got to eat ice cream (and my uncle liked ice cream almost as much as he liked children). But it was much more than that… it was the way he bonded with children because he was a child at heart. I’m sure each of my siblings, all my cousins, their children, one of whom flew halfway around the world to be here today, and dozens of others have special childhood memories of him as well.
And I ask you, what better legacy for this man? This was a man who was not a father, never had any children of his own, and yet touched the lives of many, many children…what a grand legacy indeed!
For you see, a child is much wiser than you or I. An adult too often sees people for what they have or where they live. A child sees you for the things that really matter. A child does not care what kind of car you drive; I’m picturing a certain blue ’68 Ford LTD and a certain ’86 red Dodge Ram from which he squeezed every last mile. A child does not care what kind of clothes you wear. No, my uncle wasn’t a slave to fashion; I’m picturing a certain brown polyester suit from which he also squeezed every last mile. And, oh yes, the last time I saw him, on Easter Sunday, he wore for the very first time a pair of red suspenders. He wore for the very first time a pair of red suspenders he had purchased at a store called… J.M.Fields, a store that must have closed at least thirty years ago.
A child does not care where you live. Now I know my uncle had some prime canal front property but I’m picturing the clutter in the house, the clutter in the garage, and the clutter in that big old barn. And, oh yes, there were a certain washer and dryer, still in boxes, that were on his front porch for at least a decade before he finally got around to installing them.
For you see, my uncle had far more important things to do with his money than to buy a new car or buy new clothes. And my uncle had far more important things to do with his time than to organize his belongings or to put in that washer and dryer. No, he was too busy helping others. Helping others at church and helping others at numerous charitable organizations with his money and his time.
No, a child does not see you for what you have or where you live. They see you for the things that really matter…they see you for the love in your heart.
We are gathered here today to celebrate the life of Antonio Tony Sudsy LaPietra. A man of faith, a man of charity, a man who loved children.
A man who didn’t like to touch people… and yet touched so many lives.
