MIA FAMIGLIA ...

Growing up in an Italian-American New Jersey urban family was a cultural experience in itself, especially in the days of TV's "Father Knows Best," "Ozzie and Harriet" and the "Donna Reed Show."

Talk about a wonderful sitcom premise -- my extended family had so many characters much too colorful and quirky to possibly be fictional creations or figments of my imagination. My family was nothing like the reflections of those I watched so religiously on TV, but they are my family and I am who I am because -- and in spite of -- their influence.

I thought I'd highlight one of them every once-in-awhile with a short biographical outline from the perspective of my personal relationship and memories.

Today meet ... Uncle 'Photo' Joe

Uncle Joe was my mother's brother. One of 16 children out of 23 pregnancies, Uncle Joe was - to say the least - eccentric. He spoke his mind, was stubborn, argumentative without a lick of common sense or social graces. He was a slight, thin man, vain and self-centered. He also was mentally challenged, actually a bit crazy, formally diagnosed with some mental disorder during WWII, and honorably discharged because of it.

Somehow in his youth, he became an apprentice to a photographer and developed a true talent in photography. He began his own business and, although dabbled in various artistic fields of photography, specialized in weddings and became very well-known as his business prospered. Rich and poor came to him to have their weddings immortalized by the renowned Joseph. Years later, his claim to fame, once removed, was that he took Frank and Nancy Sinatra's wedding photos, when Frank was still a bar room singer struggling in Hoboken before his rise to Bobbysox idol.

Uncle Joe spent his money as fast as in rolled in. For many years this was not a problem since he was rolling in the green. He had his nose fixed, (unusual in those days for anyone who wasn't in theatre or the movie industry). He had a weakness for very pretty woman, and would tip $10.00 for a 5 cent cup of coffee served by an attractive waitress. He hung out at all the popular nightclubs in Manhattan and was quite the dancer. He dated many woman, but the ones he attracted were beautiful, shallow party girls, accepting his lavish gifts and stringing him along until the party was over. As long as the greenbacks bulged in his pockets, there were endless stream of party girls to help decrease his bulging trouser pockets (in more ways than one.) He developed many "friends" whom were just hangers on, since Uncle always picked up checks and treated his chums with gifts and "loans," which were never paid back. Unfortunately, he wasn't quite that generous to his own family, but hey, what the heck. He did take care of his mother, since he was the only one left who remained unmarried, and they shared an apartment together which adjoined the photo studio.

Photo Joe eccentricities became more pronounced as the years passed. He had a fixation on outward appearance. He would candidly tell a handsome groom that his future wife was ugly and he was much too handsome to settle for such a 'mutt,' or vice versa. He hated smoking especially by woman and was known to pull a cigarette out of a mother's hand, stomp it to the ground, and tell her she was as disgusting as her habit and a terrible example for her child. He had several scrapes with the law because of this as well as other incidents. Being slight of build and relatively good looking with his new nose, he was sometimes mistaken for gay and often hit upon by men. He developed such an aversion to homosexuals, that he spouted a litany of the "gay who's who" in the entertainment industry, and would openly expose many personalities to anyone who would listen. Everyone thought he was crazy, but his information was quite accurate, so I knew about Rock Hudson, Tab Hunter, Liberace, Raymond Burr and many others way before they came out of the closet. Of course, no one else actually believed him and chalked it up to just crazy ramblings -I mean --Rock Hudson such a handsome, leading man, dating all the starlets, only a lunatic would spout such absurd tales about such a manly man!

Well, down the road, Joe's business declined due to lots of competition and his less than complimentary comments to his patrons. The hangers on left for greener pastures. He eventually lost everything. He even sold the negatives and rights of Frank's Wedding pictures back to Sinatra, so he lost the credit to his last claim to fame and recognition. All that was left was his camera.

He then put a sign stuck in the band of his fedora "Photo Joe" and began doing freelance work, roaming New York's five boroughs, taking pictures of accidents, celebrities and anything that he could sell to the newspapers for a quick buck. He became well known as a fixture at Times Square, where he could be found arguing with the soap box preachers or taking 'street portraits' of the Ladies of 9th Avenue. A kindly priest, who had some influence at City Hall, managed to secure a press pass for "Photo Joe," so he could continue to scratch out a meager living getting passed the police lines and fire barricades as he followed the sirens of his newly-revamped profession. Photo Joe had many a picture on the front pages of the Daily News and Mirror in his day.

His last years were spent in a boarding house. He often visited our home on Sundays for a good, home-cooked meal, offering stories of his glory days and miscellaneous celebrity gossip tidbits in exchange for our hospitality. He always came with his camera, but never took a photo when he visited. I thought it strange, but now realized he couldn't afford to waste the film or flash bulbs, since he barely made enough to live on from his freelance work. However, he taught me some ballroom dances, since I was the only member of the household that attentively listened to his stories without argument or doubts. (I still can do a mean merengue thanks to Uncle Photo Joe).

Every year he would go for his "vacation" -- by signing himself into the Veteran's hospital, where he would get three square meals a day, a little pampering, and enjoy a week or two resting in the solarium and walking the grounds.

A once-extremely talented and gifted man, Uncle Photo Joe, wandered off into obscurity, after a big and final argument between my family and him. It seems my brother wanted Photo Joe to take his wedding photos, which was an unreasonable and unrealistic request. Having nothing but his old camera, poor eyesight and what was left of his pride, Uncle Joe couldn't deliver, and disappeared until after the wedding. Of course, my brother was able to hire a photographer and had his wedding photos as momentos, but in the process, Uncle Photo Joe had lost the last ounce of his self-esteem and dignity as well as contact with our family.

Thus, I remember my Uncle Photo Joe, who was many things to many people. But in some ways he was a visionary before his time. A zealot against tobacco and liquor, and a devotee of health foods and vitamins. He detested overeating as gluttonous, ate meat sparingly, believed in fasting, and the benefits of drinking lots of water. He was colorful, interesting, talented, a bit pathetic and most importantly -- memorable. Here's to you Uncle Photo Joe.













- posted by rosemary @ 5:08 AM