My nonno, Leonardo, was a great man. No, he didn’t make a ton of money, though he made enough to buy his own house in Brooklyn, NY. That’s where I lived for half of my growing up years. He carried himself regally throughout the neighborhood. I can remember walking with my grandpa, he clad in jacket, sweater vest, hat and cane, to the local bocce courts where the old timers gathered. When we arrived the men gathered did not greet him with the boisterous greeting of an average Giuseppe, but with the respectful greeting due a person of importance.

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