My Dad was a great father to me and a marvelous example in so many ways.
A disciplined hard working man he remained considerate of others, generous and had a reputation in business for being a man of his word. Several times he lent money to various people and then later found out that they could not repay him.
In Rome hundreds of the leading Italians and Americans would seek his counsel and help. Entrepreneurs, members of the Italian aristocracy and other wealthy individuals would come to his office in via Sistina 27 before making any kind of major business decision or investment in Italy. He would talk to each one for about half an hour giving his listeners a clear description and summary of the current economic and political climate in Italy. Later I would hear people say: “Oh I made a big mistake not listening to Vasco!” Others would say, “I am so glad I followed your father’s advice and did not do what I had planned”.
Not once did I ever hear any one of the scores that came in to talk with him say that my Dad had caused them to lose money. Now my Dad was an Italian stockbroker and the Italian stock market in the 1960s and 1970s was like a wild roller coaster ride at an amusement park. In the midst of the complex chaos that existed in Italy Dad would always give the right advice to each person who came to him for financial advice.
During World War II he had been a supply officer for the Italian Army in Northern Africa. I am glad he never was the direct cause of any casualties except in one instance when with his 9mm Beretta pistol he shot a donkey that had strayed from its owner at night after he heard some rustling in the nearby bushes and was concerned that someone was about to attack him.
Instead Dad once went over to save a severely injured British pilot who’s Spitfire went down in the desert far from Dad’s position. This was in spite of the fact that the British aviator repeatedly threatened Dad with a large American 1911 45 caliber pistol as Dad came over to help evacuate him to a hospital. The fact that neither spoke the other person’s language did not help the situation, but in the end my Dad was able to win the confidence of the British aviator from the opposing country and he also now became the proud owner of the nicest hand gun he had even seen. One of the things Dad decried when he left Africa was that he had to leave his 45 pistol buried there in the sand.
As the Italians were retreating Dad was captured by the British after the Second Battle of El Alamein (23 October to 11 November 1942). After two weeks he was transferred to the Americans and brought by ship to the United States where he lived in several different concentration camps for another three years. Whereas the other prisoners of war idled away their time my father purchased a text book and a Webster dictionary (that we still had while growing up in Rome) and started studying English. After one year his ability to speak was so good that he surpassed that of the Italian professor of English from Venice who had sold him the books that he was studying from and Dad became the official translator for all of the other ten thousand men in the Italian POW camp.
When the Second World War ended he returned to Italy in 1945 with $100 that he had carefully saved while working in the concentration camps.
By about 1946 he had opened a café shop in Rome on the left side of Via Crispi as you are walking downward. It was called, Vasco’s Bar. It was there that my mother walked in about a year or so later and on the spot Dad invited her out on a date. Seven months later she surprised her family and American friends by sending a letter of resignation to TWA and then getting married to Dad in the Campidoglio.
My brother and I were born two and four years later.
My father always made sure my brother and I had a great time whenever he played with us as kids. During his earlier years he was also a strong male role model and a loving husband.
I have known few people as open handed as he was and yet always careful with the way he spent the money he earned, more than he needed to be, considering his financial success.
A great lover of sports, and an outstanding athlete of his time, he was the one who always encouraged me to keep in shape. He would often quote the Latin proverb: mens sana in corpore sano. And today, if that is true that I am in good shape, it is thanks to his example and the advice he gave me over fifty years ago.