When Mama Died!: An Autobiography by Joseph P. Allocca

By Joseph P. Allocca

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 28, 2009
• ISBN: 9781469107516

Joseph P. Allocca

Born in Brooklyn, NY in 1941, Joseph P. Allocca is the youngest of nine siblings. Readers will discover how When Mama Died! Forged the author’s character and how it affected his life. Crafted to keep life mementos forever cherished through old photographs and writings. This memoir relives Allocca’s legacy that otherwise might be lost forever. This autobiographical novel offers readers a glimpse of his family’s humble beginnings and how he made it to his fi rst million.

Book preview

WHEN MAMA DIED!

An Autobiography

by

Joseph P. Allocca

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Copyright © 2009 by Joseph P. Allocca.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

59831

Contents

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated

To The Memory of

My Brother Vinnie Allocca

And to the Memory of

My Daughter DeAnza Allocca

Don’t Quit

When things go wrong, and they sometimes will

When the road you’re trudging, seems all uphill

When the funds are low, and the debts are high

And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,

When care is pressing you down a bit

Rest if you want, but don’t you quit.

Life is strange with its twists and turns,

As every one of us sometimes learns,

Don’t give up though the pace seems slow,

You might succeed with another blow.

Success is failure turned inside out,

The silver tint of the clouds of doubt.

And you never can tell how close you are,

It may be near when it seems so far.

So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit.

It’s when things seem worse

That you must not quit.

—Author unknown

PROLOGUE

After my retirement on October 31, 2008, I was anxious to start writing this book. I believe it to be an exciting approach to have my children and others to know the rich past lives of their father, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and friends.

I chose to give this book the title of When Mama Died: An Autobiography by Joseph P. Allocca because up until my mother died life was wonderful and secure. After she died, my life and the lives of my entire family dramatically changed forever. There are many stories and events that have been passed down from generations that I felt should be put into writing. As the youngest sibling, I took it upon myself to take on the amazing task of reliving the events of my life and the lives of my family members that otherwise might be lost forever. As I was writing this book, I often remembered events and situations that were lost for a long time. Some events triggered other events and started a whole new research list. This book’s purpose is to tell a story of my life, the sad times and the good times and finally the outstanding success I enjoyed both in finances and in relationships.

I tried to put together the events as I remembered them and from the research from family members, friends, and the Internet. Several of the old photos in the pages that follow were gathered from relatives that had them stored in the deep shelves of their closets. By scanning the photos and placing them in the pages, they will be available to all that read this book.

In addition to dedicating this book to my brother Vinnie, it is dedicated to my daughter DeAnza who did not live long enough to enjoy all the wonderful events of a large family.

My daughter Christina wrote a wonderful biography of her sister DeAnza that I thought would be kind to duplicate it in this book.

I hope after reading this book, you will have enjoyed it as much as I had in writing it. I consider myself lucky, very lucky. I’m talking about my whole life.

PART ONE

When Mama Died!

The Memoirs of Joseph P. Allocca

CHAPTER ONE

A generation of men is like a generation of leaves; the wind scatters some leaves upon the ground, while others the burgeoning wood brings forth—and the season of spring comes on. So of men one generation springs forth and another ceases.

—Homer, The Iliad

It was a beautiful warm March Sunday afternoon in 2009. I was in the backyard of my home at Arrowhead Ranch in Glendale, Arizona, preparing for an outdoor family barbecue. The day was nice, not hot. I was reflecting on how pleasant it is to have a house on the same street as my two sisters, Millie and Lucy. For so many years, I regretted missing many activities with my family. While they were in New York, I lived in Santa Fe, New Mexico. I wasn’t available for those activities since I was raising a family and building my business. There were weddings, graduations, birthdays, holidays, and so many occasions I missed. Although I was able to travel to New York about once a year, it was not enough. When I visited New York, I stayed with my sister Millie. We often sat up all night talking and catching up on family stuff.

Millie, Lucy, and I live on the same street in Glendale. My niece Laura Spitaleri and her family have a house next door. My sister Lee and her husband, Frank, live in Sun City West, which is about thirty minutes from here. Another niece, Lisa Buchak, and her family live five minutes away. My son Nicholas and my daughter Gina also live close by in Phoenix.

I feel lucky that my wife, Paula, and I have the opportunity to enjoy our family now in our retirement years and on this beautiful March day.

I decided to write a book about my extraordinary life that started in Brooklyn, New York. As a little boy, our house on Hinsdale Street is where many of my memories begin.

But before I get too far in this book and since there are so many characters, I thought it might be good to give you a list of my family members. I am also listing their children as I actually grew up with some of them.

Although my mother had eleven children, I’ve always referred to my family as the nine of us since two died before I was even born. Of the nine that remained, Jean was the oldest, born in 1920, then came Philly in 1927, Millie in 1929, Rose in 1931, Lee in 1932, Tessie in 1935, Lucy in 1937, Vinnie in 1939, and finally, me in 1941.

Jean Clarkin (deceased) – married to Jack Clarkin (deceased). They had two children: Jimmy and Linda Futterman.

Philip Philly Allocca – married to Marion. They have four children: Jimmy, Maria, and the twins, Patrick and Philip.

Carmella Millie Takoushian – married to Andy Takoushian. They have two children: Steve and Karen Takoushian.

Rose Mauriello – married to Tom Mauriello. They have two sons: Carl and Paul.

Angelina Lee Seminario – married to Frank Seminario. They have three children: John, Anna, and Vincent.

Teresa (Tessie) Longmuir (widow) – was married to Burt Longmuir (deceased). They had two sons: Todd and Greg.

Lucy Parrinello – married to Tom Parrinello. They have three kids: Tom (deceased), Lisa Buchak, and Laura Spitaleri.

Vincent Vinnie Allocca (deceased) – was married to Veronica. They had three kids: Vincent, Michael, and Matthew.

Joseph P. Allocca, Joey (me) – married to Paula Jo Allocca. We had six kids, four from my marriage to Mona Allocca: Frances Maier, Paul Allocca, DeAnza (deceased), and Christina Kristoffersen. Paula and I have two kids: Nicholas J. Allocca and Gina C. Allocca.

The next chapters of this book will revolve around my life and those of members of my family.

CHAPTER TWO

When you look at your life, the greatest happinesses are family happinesses.

—Dr. Joyce Brothers

Iwas born on a hot and humid night on July 29 at St. Mary’s Hospital in Brooklyn, New York. I was told that out of the eleven children, I was the only one born in a hospital. I entered the world at four o’clock in the morning in the year 1941. This is the same year the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. I was five months old when that tragedy occurred. I am the youngest of all my brothers and sisters. Unfortunately, two died before I was even born; Lucia died in 1934 from boiling coffee that spilled on her while she was reaching for the pot on a very hot stove. She was only three years old.

Joe-Joe, his real name was Angelo, named after my grandfather, died from consumption. At least that’s what they called it in those days. Joe-Joe was six years old when he died in the year 1930.

Joe-Joe’s death had a strange twist of faith associated with it. The way the story goes, my sister Rose was very sick and in a semicoma for seven days. She had pleurisy and pneumonia. Although my father was not outwardly a religious man, he did have a deep belief in God. My father prayed long and hard for her to get better. As the days went by, Rose was getting worse and worse. My father often kneeled at his small chapel in the corner of his bedroom and prayed. He asked God to save Rose. He begged God to take whatever he had, but please save Rose. Almost like a miracle, within a day, Rose got better; but Joe-Joe got sick and eventually died!

It was in the middle of the night when Joe-Joe appeared to stop breathing. Papa, who was at his bedside, picked him up and walked to his chapel. He faced a statue of Jesus. He asked Jesus, If you have to take my son, let me baptize him first. It’s hard to believe, I know, but Joe-Joe scarcely opened his eyes and started breathing again. Papa asked my brother Philly to go get the priest. Philly, a small boy at the time, ran to the church and summoned a priest. Once Joe-Joe was baptized, he stopped breathing and passed away.

Back then, in the Italian tradition the first son was named after the father’s father, the second son after the mother’s father. The first girl was named after the father’s mother, and the second girl was named after the mother’s mother. My mother and father named the last girl to be born Lucy and the last boy to be born, me, Joey, after the two kids that died.

My father was born on April 5, 1895, in Naples, Italy. I don’t remember Papa at all; he died on March 31, 1945. He was buried on his birthday. I was only three and a half when Papa passed away.

My mother was born in Naples, Italy, on December 6, 1899. I was a change-of-life baby. She was so weak after my birth that my sister Jean had to take care of me for the first six months of my life. For years, I thought Jean was my aunt instead of my sister. Jean was the oldest sibling and twenty-one years older than me. They used to tease my father that since he lived next to the Brooklyn El; every time the train passed by, it would wake him up, and thus all those kids. Often to make a point, I refer to my birth as I might have been born at night, but not last night.

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Joey Allocca at six months old

My story centers on the house on Hinsdale Street, located in the East New York section of Brooklyn. The house holds so many memories of my life as a young Italian boy. I believe the events that happened while I lived in the Hinsdale house, especially the death of my mother, forged my character. Although the house is long gone, I still have dreams of that house and how it affected my childhood. I can remember all the rooms, the yard, the street, and mostly the dark, damp basement with all its cold corners and scary shadows. Mama purchased the house in 1945 after Papa died. My Uncle John Allocca lent her the money. He held the mortgage. The house was leveled in the late sixties or early seventies. More on that later in this book.

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Tessie Allocca holding Joey Allocca in front of the Ice Plant in Brooklyn, New York

My very earliest memory as a child was actually at the Fulton Street residence. We had a big yard that I remember was packed with bushels and orange crates. Papa’s business was the building, repairing, and delivery of wood crate boxes and bushels to farmers. Papa came to this country when he was fourteen years old through Ellis Island in the New York Harbor. He had a unique skill as a cooper and had the talent of building barrels for wines and alcohol. I suppose that’s the way he began transitioning into the bushel business. His full name was James Vincent Allocca. He was a stowaway on a ship from the bay of Naples, Italy, to New York. He stowed away with three other young men, and although he was sick