My uncle Angelo was a very special man. He was born in 1929 to immigrant parents, my grandparents, Salvatore and Maria Pantano on the lower east side of Manhattan. He was the younger brother of my mother Vivian, and always told me stories of growing up in the city and his exploits with my father, also named Angelo. They were truly best friends, and my father told me many stories about my uncle Angelo, how he was a brilliant kid, and never let anyone get the best of him. Always ready to get into a heated verbal battle, uncle Angelo sported a stiff pointer finger that poked into the chest of anyone brazen enough to challenge his opinion. When I think about my uncle Angelo, I think of a beloved family man, a strong leader, willing to take the shirt off of his back and provide it to others. He never refused to anyone in need of a favor, and he was a proud father and loving grandfather. Uncle Angelo was a supportive husband to his wife, my Aunt Mary, loving her unconditionally, no other woman existed in his eyes. In his later years I called often to say hello, and tell him how much I loved him. He often forgot to hang up when I said goodbye, and I could hear him say to his wife on the other end," Johnny is a wonderful kid, he never forgets about me." This touched me greatly, because I knew that we connected, and that we had much love for each other. May God bless my uncle Angelo always, I will miss him dearly and cherish each moment that we spent together.