Condolences
This is a very long condolence, but I promise that if you read to the end, you will marvel and maybe weep over the tremendous kindness and character of the great Emanuel Puglisi, as remarkably revealed in the true anecdote below about Manny having thoughtfully and spontaneously told a "white lie" some 25 years ago to protect the emotional well-being of a then 13 year old girl, not his own child, i.e. my own daugher.. Intrigued? Then read on to the end.
I grew up from 1952 until 1960 on the Stang farm on Squankum Road next to the Puglisi farm. I used to play with John Puglisi and his siblings. The Puglisis were a warm, loving family. My father, Eric, was an older man, a pre-war refugee from Essen, Nazi Germany. His grand-parents, eight sisters and brothers, and infant and toddler nieces and nephews were all murdred in the Holocaust. Eric and his brother Otto and their families managed to flee to America in March 1938. Only one brother, Felix, survived the war in Poland out of more than 30 Stang family members in Poland.
The poultry business went very bad in the 1950's in American, dampening demand as European agriculture recovered and the Marshall Plan purchases of American poultry and eggs ended, and of course American poultry farmers lacked the political clout in DC to ever get farm price supports like cattle and dairy farmers. In 1957, at age 56, Eric tragically hanged himself from a rafter in the barn on the Stang farm. I was four years old and my brother Jim 1 1/2. He did it on our parents' 5th wedding anniversary, five days before my mother's 41st birthday. The town's newspaper editor refused my mother's tearful pleadings not to publish the story of the suicide in the town paper for all to see. Of course, even without the article, the Puglisi family knew what tragedy had befallen their neighbors and offered whatever consolation they could. They were always wonderful neighbors, the best.
In 1961, our mother moved Jim and me to Miami Beach, Florida. We grew up in a cramped four-flat apartment building with a postage stamp front yard and no backyard, surrounded by concrete. We terribly missed the life of the farm (and our neighbors, the Puglisis), even without a father, and for the full first year fantasized scenarios about how we would buy back the farm some day and move back to Lakewood, to escape the terrible Florida heat and humidity, on top of all the other reasons.
In the summer of 1974, Jim and I visited Lakewood while backpacking around the country. We hitchhiked up Squankum Road and then hiked over to the Puglisis. Even though we were surprise visitors, and had not seen them in 14 years, they treated us like visiting royalty, giving us a wonderful lunch. Manny, John, and the boys took time out of their busy schedule to give us the Class AAA tour of their farm operations. The days of the open coops and free-range chickens had clearly passed. I loved it all, but at one point, I whispered to John, like a confidante, though it had been more than our original lifetime since we had seen each other, how lucky he was to still be on the farm, and he whispered back, "Aaah, it ain't that great." At that point in our lives, Jim and I did not know the truth about our father's suicide. As we later learned, our mother had moved us from Lakewood to Miami Beach in the vain hope that we would never find out, either inadvertently or from someone in Lakewood acting mean-spiritedly.
I didn't visit Lakewood again until 1996, with m wife Cathy and my daughter, Rebecca, 13, and son, Eric, 10. I had learned the truth about my father's suicide in December 1975. First we stopped at the Lakewood Public Library, where I found the February 1957 article about my father's death on microfilm and printed out a copy, while Cathy kept the kids distracted in the juvenile section of the library. Then we drove to our old farm and knocked on the farmhouse door, asking the owner's permission to walk around and then see the inside of the house. The owner was a divorced, retired Army officer, a captain, estranged from his only child, a daughter. The barn where my father had hanged himself was gone, and the chicken coops were collapsed, except for one where the retired Army captain was, improbably, raising a couple of horses.
After letting us tour the house, the current owner invited us to sit tin the living room for a chat. He had purchased the house five years before, in 1991, and asked when I had lived there. When I replied that my dates were 1952 to 1961, he stroked his chin thoughtfully, but then his next question was not thoughtful at all. He asked, "Oh, there's a story about an old farmer who hanged himself in the barn on this farm in the 1950's, you know anything about that?" I was stunned by the question, but was then and still am a trial lawyer, and as nonchalantly as possible, replied, "No, never heard of such a thing." He persisted, "Well, if you grew up on this farm in the 1950's, it seems like you would have known about it, he would have been your father or your grandfather." I wanted to kill this man, right then and there, an Army captain could not have been so stupid as to innocently ask me that question in front of my children; he had to have been acting out of some kind of twisted malice, perhaps envy at seeing a man with a wife and children on vacation when he no longer had a family at all.
I replied, "that's exactly the point, if it had happened int the 1950's, I WOULD have known about it, since I lived here. I never heard of it, so whatever rumor you heard is false." I then slapped my hands on my knees and said, "it's getting late, thanks for letting us look around, we've gotta go." Somehow, for the sake of appearances to my children, I actually shook the evil bastard's hand as we bid adieu. Then we drove our rental car to the Puglisi farm, where Manny and his family treated the Mark Stang family, their surprise visitors, as welcome conquering heroes, despite the passage of 22 years since my last visit.
As my kids played with Manny's grandchildren, I sat in the breakfast nook with Manny and related to him what the retired Army captain had maliciously done, or tried to do, to me and my family. Manny grimaced and shook his head sadly, and said he barely knew this neighbor, that he kept to himself. After a while Rebecca came in for a snack. She told us about the wondrous things she had just seen on the Puglisi farm, then grew silent and looked pensive and worried. Manny noticed, and asked, is something wrong, Rebecca? Rebecca became very flustered and gesticulating somewhat wildly with her hands cried out, "there's a man on my Daddy's old farm who said a man hanged himself in the barn when my Daddy was growing up there!" Rebecca then bit her lip, fighting back tears, with her head tilted down. Manny and I each stared at each other, deep into each other's eyes. I felt as helpless as I had ever felt in my life. If I had had any idea what to say to Manny, I couldn't have said it in front of Rebecca anyway. I know that my eyes silently pleaded for Manny's help and wisdom.
Manny gave me a look that said, "Trust me. You don't need to say anything, Mark. Let me handle this." Manny chucked his curled index finger under Rebecca's chin. With total sincerity and confidence, He said, "Listen Rebecca, like your Dad, I was living here during the whole 1950's too, except I was a grown-up, right on this farm next door, If something like that had happened, I would have heard about it, and I never did. That guy was either lying or probably just repeating some kind of stupid rumor. If I had a dollar for every stupid rumor I ever heard, I'd be a millionaire. Rebecca laughed at that last remark, and then left to go back to playing with Manny's grandchildren.
I shook Manny's hand and held it. I felt like crying tears of relief. I said, simply, "Thanks, Manny." Manny replied, "Aww don't mention it. Do you think she suspects?" I replied, "well, clearly she did, but I think you helped put it out of her mind, and you just saved our vacation." (This episode had occurred on Day 3 of a two-week driving vacation back East from Chicago.)
A month later, deciding not to cover up the manner of their grandfather's death any longer (I had planned to tell them around age 18), I met with my children separately to tell them the truth. Eric did not cry at all, demanding angrily to know why I had named him after a suicide. Rebecca,, on the other hand, had a severe emotional breakdown, requiring some professional consultation. She expressed no recrimination about Manny's well-intentioned "white lie;" quite to the contrary, she agreed that he had, at a minimum, saved our vacation from having a terrible pall cast over it.
As an epilogue, today Rebecca is a highly successful 37 year old international corporate lawyer in Washington, D.C.
This is a simple story, told at some length, of a humble, thoughtful, kind, hard-working, GREAT man.
I will always remember Manny fondly and deeply admire him for what he did. I am sure that this is only one of thousands of stories that could be told about the positive effect that this humble but great man had on the lives of people around him, in myriad ways that perhaps he, being ever so humble, did not even realize himself. I regret that I only learned of Manny's passing today, so did not express my condolences earlier. (Note that this condolence might eventually be publicly published elsewhere, in which case I will attempt to notify John.)
Mary and Family,
We are saddened with your loss. Our prayers and thoughts are with you. May the memories of his amazing life bring you comfort.
Larry, Curtis, Bob and the entire Tecno USA team
My dear Mary, my heartfelt sympathies go out to you and your beautiful family. I am so saddened by your loss. I have such fond and happy memories of dear dear gentle Manny. He truly was one of Jack’s favorite friends and you both were always such good people to be around. Lots of memories in the Marco island Italian club will be with us always. Can’t forget your truck ride at our Italian club parade ever. Please accept condolences also from Robert,Loriann and their families. They, too, thought Manny was such a dear man. God bless you all .
We are so sorry to learn about the passing of Emanuel Puglisi founder and president.
We would like to express our heartfelt regret.
Our thoughts and prayers are with You and with Your Family, we all share your sorrow offering our deepest condolences.
Sincerely,
TECNO POULTRY EQUIPMENT SPA
Mary, and family
Please know you are in our thoughts and prayers. Sending much love xo
Joe and Julie Palmieri
Mary and family, so sorry to hear about Manny's passing. He was a wonderful man and one of my father best friends. He loved going to visit you guys every week to get the eggs. I also appreciated your calling my dad while he was living in Vermont after his stroke. He died at 97 years old, in 2010. You were good friends to my parents, and I will always appreciate that. Love, Gloria
Death is a heartache no one can heal
Love is a memory no one can steel
Keep in our hearts all the good memories of Manny and he will
live with us forever.
Fred & Bryna Adani
Mary and Family,
I was saddened to learn of Manny's passing. I was able to get to know him
thru the Italian American Society of Marco Island and his playing of bocce.
We became closer friends once he learned my grandparents were from
Sicily. I remember reading the write up of him in the Marco Island Eagle
newspaper and was very impressed with his accomplishments. He inspired
me to improve my bocce playing by observing his consistent ability.
He was always friendly and thoughtful. We will all miss seeing him.
Our deepest sympathy,
Charlie and Ruth Ann Pineno
Ron and I are very sad to hear of Manny's passing. We always enjoyed his stories, especially about the egg farms. He was a very interesting and knowledgeable man. We will truly miss playing bocce with him and seeing him at the club meetings.
Heaven just got another good one!
Our condolences to Mary and the family.
Ron Patterson and Tina Price
Peter and I were heartbroken to hear of Manny’s passing. We feel blessed to have known him and we will surely miss his wisdom, his smiles, his friendship.
Marco Island will never feel the same without Manny Puglisi.
With deep sympathy... Peter & Edith
I am so deeply sorry for your loss of such a wonderful and special man. I will always remember the kindness and welcome Manny and your family showed us all those years ago and the friendship through the years since. My thoughts and prayers are with all of you. What an incredible life and family. The essence of Easy Street. So blessed to have had the chance to know him. With deepest sympathy. Peg Doyle.
My deepest sympathy to Mary and family. I am grateful to have known Manny. I will always remember his smile. I am so pround that Manny and I served as President of The Marco Island Italian American Club. A Club he supported until he passed. What a loss to us all. Love both of you. Ann Sepe
Dear Mary and members of the Puglisi Family,
it was such an inspiration to know Manny. He was beloved by all of us. He was not only a member of our Italian American Society but in many ways he was the heart of it. As a past president he helped guide and build the society to what it is today. He helped make it our family - a family away from the homes we came from. He was always willing to share his stories and his joy of life with a smile and a twinkle in his eyes. He was truly an inspiration for others. It is amazing and truly wonderful the kind and giving things he accomplished with his life. Thank you to Mary and his family for sharing him with us.
May the Lord Bless you and keep all of you in his hearts. And Manny we know that you are with the Lord and that one day you will be united with all who knew and loved you.
With our deepest sympathy,
Dorrie & Ralph Madonna
I have been blessed with so many memories of my Uncle Nenna and the farm. May love and peace be with Aunt Mary and my beautiful cousins and loving family.
Loved my Uncle very much. Will miss him every day. He was an Uncle a 2nd father a friend and a mentor. Memories of him will always be with me. Love you, Rest In Peace I’m sure God has a special place for him. John Schinina
One does not know where to begin when talking about Manny. He is by far one of the greatest examples of a man that I ever knew. His obituary give the headlines of his accomplishments, but I tell you to sit down and talk to Manny was one hell of a learning experience. Whether it was about fishing or boating, furniture, eggs and chickens, or his days in the army, or the history of Italy. He also spoke of his relationship with the lord. Only if there were more men in this world like Manny. Thanks for the fishing trips on your boat, so glad some of my family met Manny.
I love you manny!!!
Dearest Mary & Members of the Puglisi Family: Our hearts are broken by this news. Manny & Mary have become such important, loving, an caring members of our Marco Island community. We all were blessed by knowing him and will miss him very, very much. We will keep him and all of you in our prayers. May God bless Manny and receive him with open arms into the Kingdom of Heaven. With love and sympathy, Nick & Dolores
My heart and prayers goes out to the Puglisi family at this time Manny alway made me laugh when he came into the farm office will miss him asking us if there was any coffee for him. It was a true pleasure to have met him .
The Chianca Family
Anna, Chris & Christopher
Our deepest sympathy to you Mrs. Puglisi and all the family. We will always remember Mr. Puglisi fondly. He was always so sweet and kind and funny too. We are so sad for your loss. You both created a beautiful and loving family and it is still growing. He lives on in all of you.
May he rest in peace in Heaven.
With Love and Condolences,
Michael, Regina, Anthony & Joseph Alicea