In the past few months a bunch of us have pooled our energies and resources to try and mobilize our classmates to attend our 40th high school reunion. For those of us engaged in this endeavor it has been extremely rewarding and sometimes sad when we discover those of us who have passed on. Our group gets together to plan our reunion and as we do so the memories coming rushing back. All of us grew up at a special time in the sixties. For the most part, our moms were always home, our dads usually got home in time for dinner with their families, and families were together as the divorce rate was not what it is today. The worst thing any of us did as far as hell-raising was drink a little beer from time to time. During these formative years, I happened to form a friendship with a special individual, Joey Falcone. Many of the graduating Livingston High School classes know of Joe as he is often referred to as, “Jose,” “Giuseppe,” “The Mayor,” “Bennington Joe,” i.e., the street he lives on in Livingston. He is our town's adopted son as Livingston looks on after him, especially the firemen, police, postal workers, lifeguards at the pool, Seymour’s, etc. In the ensuing paragraphs, I’m going to try and share with you bits and pieces of my friendship with the “Jose.” I’m not sure how and why this happened, but I do know my life is richer for it.

The Early Years

My first recollection of Joey occurred over several happenstances. The first was when his parents mainstreamed him in school, because back then there were no special programs given Joey’s challenges. He attended St. Philomena’s and Sister Helen (i.e. right out of the play Nunsense on Broadway) got so fed up with him carrying on that she hung him by his suspenders from the hooks in the cloakroom. Picture Joey, hanging, his feet off the ground, squirming to get free of his captors, the coat hooks. Those nuns were tough and they had to control class sizes of 64 or more kids in a single room for seven hours a day.

Another time occurred when the Falcone dog would get out of the house and take off over the neighborhood. I lived a street up and over from Joe. It was a fair distance. Anyway, Rusty would be caught and Mr. Falcone called and along with Joey come over to retrieve their pet. As the pleasantries were exchanged, Joey was kneeling down at his dad’s feet where Rusty would be licking him all over from top to bottom.

As I got older, I had a paper route that delivered papers all up and down Joe’s street, i.e., Bennington Road. Friday was the collection day for delivery of the Newark Evening News for $.65/wk, and Joey was always anxious to meet and greet whoever was at the door.

My last early recollection of him was, when playing behind his house in the large wooded area, I witnessed him throw a hardball through his parents' porch window and his father being a little upset over this. Joey’s eyesight/coordination is not the best and he had just finished watching his favorite team, the Yankees, and like them he was going to work on his pitching in the back yard, trying to throw the ball against the cement foundation of their backyard porch. There was never a dull moment with Joe around.

Role Models

I can’t begin to express my respect for the Falcone Family -- and I mean their extended family as well, which includes one of our classmates, Angel Falcone. Paul Falcone never shielded his sons from life’s challenges. God had given him two sons, Buddy and Joey, and he and Nettie were thankful for the joy they brought to their lives. Mr. Falcone included Joey in everyday life to its fullest extent, neither seeking nor accepting any special considerations. And because of his example, now continued by his oldest son, we as a town were richer for it. I often tell my sons when you want to know what being a brother is all about, you only have to look to Buddy Falcone as your role model. Again, just like his father, you’d never know that in looking after Joey’s well being, there was anything special needed to be called out in addressing his care. Through his family’s love, his life has been one of fulfillment and contribution. He has not been shunted away in a warehouse for the disadvantaged. This is his family’s greatest gift and example to all of us and to Joe as well. Mr. Falcone passed away many years ago, and Nettie, Joe’s mom, carried the torch for the family, continuing the beliefs and values of her husband until her passing. Now Joey lives alone in the same house as his parents did with Buddy and our Town checking in on him from time to time.

A Friend Named G. J.

When I look back on this, I’m not sure how it all started. I do know that Buddy, LHS class of '63 along with his friends, included Joey in their activities. When Buddy went to college, Joey got passed down to Billy Dukiet's brother, Whitey Dukiet, Bobby Young, Jay Masuchie, Jimmy Schnell and their high school fraternity, Kappa Phi. In Joey’s eyes the LHS class of '66 are his fraternity brothers. But after they moved on there was no one present to pass Joey along to. So with no one around, Joey would come to the basketball courts by the pool and just hang there. During this time, "The Courts" as they came to be called, were for those of us back then our version of "the place to hang." The girls in their short skirts and penny loafers, the guys with their madras shirts, white Levi’s, desert boots. It was here on weekends and in our cars, etc., groups of us would come by to catch up with one another or to just be seen cruising. As for myself, I was always there playing basketball as it was my second home. As a fraternity, Kappa Phi had started Y Dances that were held on weekends during the school year. These were held in a small building just outside of the North Livingston Ave. center. I would attend these together with my sister Donna Semler, and I’d bring Joey with me as he loved to dance. I’d just make sure that he got there, as he danced all the time with the girls. When the dance ended, I just made sure he got home alright. Although, after dropping him off at his house, I’d have to race up to my home, because he’d call me as he suspected that I went out again after I dropped him off. So I’d have to be there for his phone call ensuring him I was home for the night and then after getting his call, and only then, was I free to go out again. You can’t fool Joey on social matters.

Norman Rockwell Sunday Dinner

Joey began to come over to my house more frequently, because he knew that together with my friends, Jim Koss, Rich Jeydel, Myles Dotto, Peter Desch, Bill Ellis, Chris Vitella, we were his wheels. My parents, especially my mom, always welcomed him. Joey’s folks (or should I say his mom more than his dad) would get upset with him because she felt he was making a nuisance of himself to my family. Every Sunday my father did the Norman Rockwell thing with the traditional Sunday sit-down dinner. Reesa Dollinger, Elliot DeBear (i.e., always complaining about his mother the Silver Fox as we use to call her), Myles Dotto, and Rick Jeydel have had occasion to witness these events. Joey, knowing that these occurred every Sunday, would approach my Mother and ask, “G. J. wants to know if it’s okay if I eat over.” My mother, with a sparkle in her eye, would respond, “You go tell G. J. that I said it’s okay if he wants you to eat over.” Talk about inviting yourself. Joey would come back beaming and inform me that my mother invited him to eat over. As time passed, more and more he kept coming by. When people ask me to describe him, I often share this analogy that he is like the golden retriever of the human race, but with a little bit of mischief included.

Cedar Hill

I had the unfortunate experience of seeing Joey get hurt seriously as he broke his leg in multiple places while out with me sleigh-riding at the Cedar Hill Golf Course. I don’t think his folks were too happy with me as they were about to attend a black tie affair and I showed up at the front door with my high school buddies and Joe's leg broken, but not knowing this at the time. Joanne Grady reminded me recently she was present that night when this occurred. It was a great night for sledding. It had snowed and then freezing rain had formed a coat of ice. Beginning at the first tee you could slide down in the toboggan following the contour of the land. We were hitting some pretty fair speeds. Myles Dotto, our resident genius (current OBGYN Doctor) felt if we put Joey in the front of the toboggan we’d have better control. Well, we came up over this rise to a rock wall staring us in the face, and everyone sees it but Joey. Everyone bails out but Joe, as he smashes into the rock wall. We run up to the sled, and Joey, holding his leg and showing no pain, tells us with his leg at a angle different from where it should be, “This is wrong, it's not working like it’s supposed to.” When all was said and done, he ended up at St Barnabas with a cast from his hip to his toes, and pins in his knee and ankle. But that didn’t keep him from dancing at the Y or high school dances, cast and all. Mrs. Falcone wanted to kill me, but Mr. Falcone interceded and knew that his Joey was being included in our adolescents spirited fun and in the back of his mind he was really pleased for this.

Assistant to the Assistant at the Livingston Memorial Pool

In the summer, at the town pool, under the tutelage of the pool managers, Bill Lampeter and Tony Hope, Joe considered himself to be the assistant manager in charge of maintenance. All you have to do is give Joey a title and look out. He’ll let you know he’s the boss man. The pool staff would conduct lifeguard drills and guess who got to be the victim. Joey, who was a fish in the water, pretended to be in trouble. The lifeguard -- and it was always a female -- would jump in and save him by wrapping him in the lifesaving carry and then moving him over to the side of the pool. Then with assistance Joe would be lifted out of the water and given simulated mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Only in Joey’s case as they are simulating this, and looking out of the corner of his eye with a crowd of people around, he waited stealthily to steal a kiss from the lifeguard as she simulated the mouth-to-mouth. Ah! He was in heaven at those times.

Joe became and remains today a living icon at the pool. On occasion he runs into Buddy Wolfe there and always informs me of this. He still remembers Buddy bringing the ball up the court at the high school basketball games and running our team from the point position. Buddy would also pick up Joey from time to time hitch-hiking around town. When Joey hitchhikes, it’s not like you get a choice to pick him up. If he can, he’ll get in the middle of the road so you have to pick him up. On his way home from the post office, where he has worked for over 39 years, sometimes he’ll walk to the Seven-Eleven store and try to bum a ride from there. Joey would share when Buddy picked him up, he would ask about me, etc., and invariably kiddingly inform Joey that I needed to work on my passing game.

Lou Bucca, former proprietor of Seymour’s luncheonette shared a story about Joe during the adult swim period at the pool. Joey was qualified age-wise and would perch himself on the diving board. As the seniors were swimming laps in the deep end and passing under the diving board, Joe would launch himself and cannonball them. Of course, the lifeguards would be all over him, but this is what he saw his peers doing and he wanted to be just like them. I’m not so sure the seniors agreed with this entirely. Today Joey can still be found at the pool but he is retired from training the lifeguards in mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Dick Schue is the Tony Hope and Bill Lampeter of today, and yes Joey still considers himself the assistant manager in charge of making everything run as it should. Dick is very good to him and is another of Joe’s close friends who watches his back.

Chris Vitella played an important role in the development of Joey’s spirited adolescent youth. Chris, the master of “Screaming” made sure that before he moved on to college, Joey would carry on this skill. In the course of cruising around town, Chris would pull up next to a car and get their attention with the perceived intent of asking for directions as if he were lost. As the occupant in the other car rolled down their window, Chris would let out a loud scream with the purpose of scaring the living daylights out of the other car’s occupants. I can say that Joey became a skilled practitioner of this art. And of course Chris was so proud of his pupil.

In some ways, Joey vicariously lived his high school years through me. When I was dating Reesa Dollinger, in his mind he was dating Reesa Dollinger. All of my experiences during that time, since he was by my side, he had those same experiences.

Canisius College

Now it was my turn to move on and leave Livingston behind to attend college. As Billy Dukiet had done, my plan was to leave Joey to my brother Jack Semler so that he would continue to be included in a circle of everyday activities and amongst the boys from the hood. But Joey would have none of that. He’d been passed around enough and he was going to make certain I would be stuck with him.

I attended a small Jesuit college in Buffalo, NY where it would begin snowing in October and not end until April. But we had a hidden secret -- there were tunnels under the campus and you didn’t have to go outside to often to make it to class. I spent the best four years of my life in that city, as it had all the amenities of a major league city, it was easy to get around and not too expensive. I met my wife there as she attended another nearby nursing school, D’Youville College. Today most of its graduates are married to Griffs (as we are called) and Dollies (as the wives are called). I was dating a girl named Tess from there at the time. To this day she is still a very fond memory of Joey’s. I would have Joe up to school for a college weekend. This, after picking him up at the Buffalo airport and getting to meet the plane's pilot, every one of the stewardesses and if time permitted probably the president of the airline knowing Joey and his talent for drawing people to him. For all the passengers knew, after Joey talked his way into the cockpit he probably flew the plane from Newark, NJ to Buffalo, NY. Back then, college curfews still existed and there was only one watering hole where the girls from D’Youville could frequent, let their hair down and still make curfew. For us guys, it was what I would call a "target rich environmen"t and for Joey it was nirvana. Tess and her friends really engaged the little guy as we all know he loves to dance. I'd always let Joey share in a beer or two, but I monitored it and didn't let it get out of hand. Well, after dancing up a storm Joey would park himself next to the girls' restroom and get a big hug from all the girls on their way there. Because of his stature, each time he got a hug he'd get a face full of each girl’s endowment. And I noticed as this was going on if the girl had a significant endowment, Joey would hang on a little bit longer than normal. Sly devil that Joey. Now the best part, in the background at this establishment, you'd find Canisius’ version of wallflowers crying in their beers and admonishing themselves for seeing Joey experiencing more endowment then they'd ever see in a lifetime. Chip Craig said the same at our summer dinner this past July. Joey went home with Lorrie Klienwaks and Molly Simon, saving me the extra trip having to double back after dropping him off in Livingston. Chip's comment was, “Why does he get to go home with the hotties all the time?”

The Wedding 1973

Having graduated, now facing a three-year commitment in the Army as a newly commissioned 2nd Lt. and at the dusk of the Vietnam era, I married Monica Remillard of Peru, NY and inherited a very large extended family. Monica is one of 14 and her parents have over 54 grandchildren. I included Joey in my wedding party. I know this meant a lot to him, as he had seen his brother do the same with his peers. For Joey, to be like his brother was all he ever wanted to be. While Monica and I were getting ready to leave on our honeymoon, I found Joey hiding in the back seat of our car. “What are you doing ?”I asked him. He replied, “I’m coming with you.” I said, “Joe, you can’t come.” He replied, “I have to come. You don’t know what to do.”

Over the years, Joe continued to be connected to myself and Myles Dotto. During my service in the Army, when home on leave, he insisted on polishing my shoes so I’d be ready for inspection. One time in my haste, and not leaving enough time to review Joe’s work, he polished my shoes with brown polish instead of black. Needless to say, I didn’t do too well in that inspection. Joey always respected our town’s firemen, policemen, postal workers and men of the uniform. He wanted to help them in any way he could because he knew their missions in life were to help others, and that is what he strived to do as well.

Today

Recently, Joe just turned 60 which is well beyond expectations for someone with his challenges. He’s still a familiar face around town, in the snack bar at the HS football games, the pool in the summer and yes, I get calls almost daily from him. Today a new circle of friends look on after him. Don Schwartz, Dick Schue, Jimmy Waldren, John Depablo, recently departed Lou Bucca, Art and Tom Herder. In some ways, Myles and I have been replaced by them since we have moved on. But it is comforting to know that he is well cared for as they also see the specialness and the love he holds in his heart for all of us. I’ve been fortunate for the most part to have achieved a certain amount of success. But perhaps the greatest honor I’ve ever received was to have been told by his brother Buddy that Joe considers me to be one of his better friends. For him to have recognized me as his peer, there is no higher accolade I could receive. If you click on the file attached it will launch a movie I took of Joe on the ferry to Martha’s Vineyard recently (movie to come later!). It is after all vintage Joe. I hope each of you have enjoyed somewhat in this reminiscing. God bless you all.

G.J. Semler