Taking It From The Top... One More Time

George Colabella has spent the past 30 years as a non-profit professional. He is currently the Executive Director of The Tiny Miracles Foundation. This is Mr. Colabella’s second book. His first, a novel, Hypnogogia-A Life of Dreams, is unique in utilizing the dreams of the main character to advance the story. George lives in Yonkers, New York, with his wife Linn and their many cats.

To Linn and Terry

Without whose patience, understanding, and love this book would not have been possible.

George Colabella

Taking It From The Top…

One More Time

Copyright © George Colabella (2015)

The right of George Colabella to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781786120182 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781786120199 (Hardback)

ISBN 9781786120205 (E-Book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2016)

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd.

25 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5LQ

Prologue

When JR and I first discussed doing his life story he told me that it would be a magic carpet ride. It turned out to be so much more than that. Over the course of the nearly 3 years we spent together, the people he introduced me to and the places we went were nothing less than extraordinary.

JR is not a fictional character nor are any of the events portrayed fictional. Both are very real. JR’s real name is Charles Penzabene, Jr. JR is by no means an affectation. In fact, if he were walking down the street and someone called out Charles he would not have any idea he was being called. The only person who ever calls him anything else, is Terry who calls him Junior. Other than that, the only other time I heard him referred to as anything else was on the occasion when Gina was joking with him and with a smile referred to him as Charlie. As long as I have known him the hundreds of people who come into contact with him always refer to him as JR.

We spent countless hours sitting at his dining room table talking about his life. He was never anything less than candid. This included his recounting of both good times and times of strife. Although he may look intimidating to outsiders, he has one of the softest hearts of anyone I’ve ever met. When talking about his parents, his friends, and events in his life it was not rare that his eyes filled with tears as he recounted his journeys.

The places I have seen and people I have met are now great memories which I will carry for a lifetime. Early on, over lunch in a diner, he recounted his school days and days at Brown’s Hotel. He paid homage to a teacher who had taken him under his wing and guided him in the right direction – Mr. Tolkoff. As we were leaving, JR mentioned that Mr. Tolkoff lived in the area and that we should just drive by. Upon pulling up in front of the house, there was Mr. Tolkoff a man now well into his 80's. Seeing who was in the car he walked up and said to JR, You going to sit in that car all day, or are you going to get out? The hug and embrace confirmed everything I had heard about this man. I was welcomed into his home and given a tour of his private collection of sports and celebrity memorabilia. The walls were studded with him standing with major stars spanning several decades. It was obvious that this was a man who could spot and nurture talent.

Along the way there were other moments which transformed storytelling into reality. JR had told many stories about his friendship with Pat Cooper who started as his mentor and evolved into a lifelong friend. When I learned that Pat would be appearing in the area it was only natural that I got tickets for us. Over the course of my life I have had the good opportunity to meet and interact with a number of prominent people. However, that night in Long Island, I felt myself growing more excited as we waited outside on a cold December night. A large black SUV pulled up and out stepped Pat. He caught sight of JR and beckoned him over. Not missing a beat he hugged JR and jokingly asked him what he was doing there. It was as if we had stepped back to the days at the Copa.

As the book progressed it came time to meet more of the people who had played a role in his life. We headed north and met with Johnny Connecticut. A warm and gracious man, we spent a day talking about the experiences he had shared with JR. He talked about the glory days of the Chateau Pelham, the ups and downs of the business, and how through it all they became family.

There were several trips to upstate New York to meet with Johnny A. Every meeting was an experience and a lesson about life in NYC during the heydays when many cultures came together. Sitting with Johnny A. in the back of a local sports bar I learned about the many different characters and events that helped to shape JR. Perhaps, most importantly, I learned about the meaning of respect.

Along the way there were many other folks who added insights into life. I remember fondly John Schiefele who was unabashed in his enthusiasm and who quickly became a dear friend. He left us much too soon, yet his memory remains strong. Then there was Kimberly who believed in the storytelling and took it to a new dimension.

And certainly not last – our wives. They endured the countless hours JR and I spent huddled together pursuing a dream. Two very different women, they each complemented the process of putting it all together. The bond that grew between the two of them only added further inspiration to the storytelling.

I would be remiss not to offer a few thoughts about JR. Although this book tells his life story it cannot capture the soul of who he is. After all is said and done and after all the adventures stripped away he is foremost a devoted husband, father, and friend. These are traits not found in many and are particularly rare for those who have spent a lifetime in the spotlight.

The last chapter of this book was the hardest to actually write. It took a while to realize why I was putting it off. It dawned on me that in drawing things to a close I was also closing the chapter on a life experience. The afternoons chatting over the dining room table, looking at old photos, meeting extraordinary people, and being taken on a journey through time would come to an end. Yet, the friendship that has been forged will last a lifetime.

Chapter 1

This is the story of one man. This is also the story of a different time and place. The best person to tell this special story is JR himself. It is Saturday night at Luciano’s, the local Italian restaurant. JR and his partner have just finished a set. As is usually the case, the restaurant is packed. Both the regulars and the new timers are still applauding.

JR takes a seat at my table. A man in his 60s, he has an unmistakable look about him. He has the chiseled looks of a man who could have easily played a lead role in The Sopranos. It takes only a few moments of listening to him speak and looking into his eyes, that one realizes that beneath his exterior lies a warm and tender heart.

It’s a good crowd here tonight. We always appreciate playing to people who are having a good time. One thing we did learn over the years is that it makes no difference whether there is one person or 100 people in the audience. They’re here for the show and they deserve nothing less than our best, JR stated. There’s not only wisdom but also caring and professionalism in a statement like that. You can immediately tell that JR is proud of what he does and is a seasoned performer. However, there is none of the glitz or glamour to him. At the end of the day, he is a very real person. He is the sort of man that you would like to be godfather to one of your children.

Time can be a funny thing. It does not slip away, but rather becomes part of us. Ten, twenty, fifty years ago are not gone. All that has come before has woven itself into the fabric that we are today. Without our past, we are adrift. We are defined by all we have done, all we have experienced, the lives we have touched, and the lives that have touched us.

It is no different with JR. His face and words tell a story of not only today, but of times gone by. The richness of these words and experiences frame who he is and draws us all into remembering our own personal histories. It has been said, that a good story is one that becomes our own story. As time and experience blend into this moment, one can sense the many people that have intersected with him. His story is our story.

...and so the story begins.

*****

They were very different times. The 1940s in New York City, although a time of concern about a war fought overseas, this was also a time in which all people became one. It was a time in which people from many different homelands and backgrounds shared a common view. It was also a time during which neighbor looked after neighbor and we were more alike than we were different.

In those days people were not economically disadvantaged – they were poor. Yet, being poor did not carry a stigma nor was it a feeling of hopelessness. Because so many families were poor, most did not know it. For although money was tight, families were strong. Many had come here from foreign lands and what they saw were many opportunities. Charles and Maria were first-generation Americans. The children of Italian immigrants, they would build a better life for themselves and their children. Charlie and Mary were not poor – they had riches beyond imagination. They believed in themselves, they believed in one another, and they believed in the future. With the combination of hard work and love they knew that their children would fulfill the American dream.

In 1945, Charlie and Mary lived with their son Anthony in the projects on First Avenue and 102nd Street in Manhattan. These are not the projects that one sees today. The buildings were a great co-mingling of different people all striving for something better. The projects were rarely a lifelong residency – they were a stop along the way. They brought together many people of many different backgrounds. Walking the hallways where Charlie, Mary, and the young Tony lived, it was the smell that said you were home. The aroma of Mrs. Ginsberg’s brisket, the aroma of Mrs. Polaski’s cabbage, or the aroma of Mrs. Flynn’s soda bread were an indication that you would soon be home. Walking into the apartment the smell of the gravy on the stove was almost as enveloping as Mary’s smile.

Mary was the kind of woman whose strength came from her innate love. Although of small stature, when she hugged you the feeling of warmth and protection flowed deep into your soul. Mary’s life was her husband, her children, her family and her friends. All who knew her realized that this was a woman who would love you through good times or bad. She was a pillar of strength that made every day special. To Mary being poor was meaningless. If you were hungry she would feed you. If you were cold she would give you her sweater. If you were sad she would hold you. In so many ways, Mary was the glue that held everything together and would also live on in JR’s soul.

It was not possible to be with Charlie and not smile. Just knowing that he would be coming through the door shortly would change everyone’s mood. He radiated humor and goodwill to everyone and anyone. In only a few minutes the room would resound with the laughter and smiles which he brought to all. A hard working son of an immigrant, there was nothing he would not do for family and friends. Beyond the smiles, he gave something even more valuable. One always knew that Charlie would be there in time of need. During a time of great uncertainty, Charlie was the rock of loyalty and strength to which so many would cling.

The summer of 1944 was a truly dismal time. The war continued to drag on in Europe and the Pacific. In New York City things were even worse. Not long after D-Day New York City began to bake. The temperature soared beyond 90° on 37 different days. Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia would work in his office with his jacket off, his tie loosened, and shirt unbuttoned to the waist. In Central Park horses were collapsing, the subways turned into cauldrons, and the trolleys were almost too hot to bear. It continued to get worse in August as temperatures soared up to 100°. On August 11 the temperature rose to 102° and no end was in sight. Local beaches and amusement parks offered only minimal relief. For those who braved the subway ride, they found themselves shoulder to shoulder with countless other sweaty and overheated New Yorkers.

However, things were different in one New York City household. It was in August 1944 that Mary told Charlie she was pregnant with their second child. The smile on his face glowed brighter than the heat coming off the sidewalks. A second child reinforced this young couple’s hope and belief in the future. There was an over-abundance of love to go around and another baby would only magnify this.

Summer eventually loosened its grip and autumn brought a mild