by A. J. Benza
I know Gino was genuinely happy for me and my good fortune at chasing down all my dreams. But I’m not sure I was able to properly convey just how proud I was watching his career take off in a direction that seems so obvious in hindsight. The fact that he was able to go on and help people whose sense of self and prior life experience had blocked their ability to heal and get what they wanted out of life gave me chills. And the simplistic beauty that his main purpose every day was to help people feel more comfortable in their own skin. Of course that’s what he would go on and do!
When Gino’s brother, Larry, succumbed to AIDS in 1998, I flew in for the funeral. I can’t say I was shocked at all to see Gino being emotionally tended to by a handsome man with an obvious caring nature. But I was a little surprised to see, in the midst of the huddle of human sorrow, my grieving uncle Larry.
I approached the three of them quietly and put my hand on Uncle Larry’s frail shoulder. He turned to me and the waterworks started. It was like we were beneath the peach tree all over again.
“Oh, A.J.,” he sobbed. “Larry’s at peace. My son is finally at peace now.” And then, extending his arms to Gino and his male friend, he said to me, “This is Gino’s wonderful partner, Glen. Glen, this is my brother’s son.”
“Your dad was Uncle Al, am I right?” Glen said, giving me a warm hug and a long handshake.
“I take it Gino told you a few stories,” I said.
And then Gino burst out, hugging me. “I told him every story. Everything we ever did.”
And there we were, the four of us, almost a quarter century removed from the dire phone call Uncle Larry had made to my home that fateful night. What seemed almost impossible to accept that very night was, at this moment, wonderful and sweet and real.
The next time I saw Gino was two years later, at Uncle Larry’s funeral, after his consecutive bouts with lung and brain cancer: another Benza boy making a loud exit. This time around Gino and Glen were wearing commitment rings. They told me of their plans to one day make it legal, “if that ever becomes possible.”
“How was it for your pops in the end?” I asked.
“Ugh,” Gino sighed. “He came out of his coma at the very end long enough to tell me how thrilled he was for my happiness. How fond he was of Glen.”
“That’s the best you could ask for, I suppose,” I said, genuinely satisfied for my little cousin. And then there was a long, awkward pause.
“I hope I’m not imagining this,” Gino told me. “But I think his last words to me were, ‘I have such a handsome and happy son.’ ”
“He was probably loaded,” I joked.
Then, amid the bouts of tears and bursts of laughter that accompany all Italian funerals, Gino and I recalled stories of that glorious summer of 1974.
“The best summer,” he said, his words breezing past us and softly landing somewhere among the big sprays of mums surrounding his father’s casket.
He was speaking to his father in the moment when he said, “The best summer of my life.”
And I was speaking to mine when I said, “The best summer of our lives.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
There is no book if it were not for the memories and antics of my beautiful sisters Rosalie and Lorraine, my brothers-in-law Jack and Frankie, and brothers Jack and Joe; my cousins Arlene Benza, Richard Mantia, Grace Marie Haggerty, Phil Mattera, and most of all my cousin Gino Benza; thanks to the recollections from lifelong friends Joe Colucci, Ramsey Dabby, Pauline Meyer, and Debbie Rossitto. Thank you all for putting such vivid color to that summer of ’74.
I owe a lot (much more than his fee) to my agent Steve Troha and to Ruth Pomerance at Folio Lit. And to my great team at Simon & Schuster: Mitchell Ivers, Jen Bergstrom, Louise Burke, Natasha Simons, Felice Javit, and Trish Boczkowski—wherever you’ve disappeared to! To my supportive friends Ro Terenzio, Neal Gumpel, “Uncle” Kevin Dornan, and Adam Tenenbaum, who bought me the laptop so I could begin this book. A kiss on the ring to Harvey Weinstein because whenever I’ve called, he’s always been there—no questions asked.
A big hug to Richie Folk, for being a good son and a great big brother.
To my wonderful uncle Larry and my unbelievable mother and father, Al and Lily Benza. They were just too good to be true.
And, finally, to the newest Benzas—my Roxy and my Rocco. Daddy loves you with all his heart, his soul and his guts! Should either of you grow up to be an author, write nice things about me.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photography by Barney Dunn
A.J. BENZA was New York City’s most celebrated gossip columnist in the 1990s, writing and editing for the New York Daily News. He is a regular contributor to Playboy and Penthouse and has appeared on Howard Stern’s Sirius radio show more than 100 times. He is a television writer and producer whose hosting credits include E!’s Mysteries & Scandals and the Game Show Network’s High Stakes Poker. He lives with his family in Los Angeles and New York City.
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Copyright © 2015 by A. J. Benza
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First Gallery Books hardcover edition July 2015
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Interior design by Jaime Putorti
Jacket design by Laywan Kwan
Jacket photograph by plainpicture/Bildhuset
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
ISBN 978-1-4767-3878-9
ISBN 978-1-4767-3879-6 (ebook)