Remembering Gabe (1912-2011)
This is for our friends—and for my father.
Born in Southern Italy and raised in a Jewish-Italian neighborhood in Revere, MA, my father often recalled that his childhood and youth were filled with happy memories: running flat out the entire length of Revere Beach, loving the sunshine and salt air, playing sports, studying mathematics (the only subject he ever cared about!), and playing the trumpet with his musical family. They all spoke Italian and there were many uncles and cousins to visit on Sundays. There was lots of loud conversation, laughter and good food in those early years.
Even though Gabe wasn’t the youngest, his three brothers all watched out for him and kept him close. When, at age 18, he was invited to tour with a nationally known band—he was that good!—his family would have none of it. He played locally in many of the burlesque houses and played with the road show of the popular Red Nichols band. At home, he relied on his brothers to keep his feet on the ground, and he adored his mother. He said that he would often “dance her around the living room to make her smile.”
In 1940, Gabe joined the Army and was inducted into “a truly remarkable and unusual musical organization”, the 101st Medical Regiment Band. They spent a year “acquiring fine, professional musicians to bolster (their) ranks.” In a history of the band’s formation and tour of duty in the South Pacific, my father is mentioned as one of those fine musicians: “Gabe Colangelo was expecting to join us at this time, but a technicality on his final citizenship papers temporarily held him up. However, a few weeks later we ‘paraded’ him personally from the induction center to the barracks.” He became first chair of the trumpet section. Their amazing tour of duty began in Australia, moved on to New Caledonia and ended at Guadal Canal. They played military music, dance music, and performed skits for the troops as well. Sometimes they performed for thousands. They also helped out in the hospitals and were called on to fill in wherever needed. They survived 118 degree heat, malaria, and over 92 air-raids at Guadal Canal. The author recounts that during one raid, when they couldn’t get to their shelter and had to hit the deck, “Gabe Colangelo flew through Len’s mosquito net like superman!” When the Japanese surrendered the island, the Marines left my father’s battalion in charge. There were still plenty of bombing raids to come. And the band played on. And helped out in the medical units, dug trenches, and took their show on the road to entertain the troops. My dad remained in awe of that experience his whole life.
After his discharge from the service, with good conduct medals and commendations, Gabe attended Berklee College of Music and the New England Conservatory for three years. A permanent lip muscle injury curtailed his promising musical career.
My father’s care free life took a tragic turn when he married my mother, Thelma Gregorio, a beautiful, sweet woman who had a psychotic break when I was only 19 months old. My dad spent the next ten years visiting her at Danvers State Hospital and visiting me in foster care. Throughout his whole life, his family were the only people who truly mattered to him—the only people he felt truly connected to on the earth. During these long years alone, he worked during the day in the manufacturing sector and at night used his inventive mind to devise a gripping device which he patented and spent decades trying to market it. A cherished dream which was never realized. He also became an avid and very decent golfer. He was a favorite at the Nahant Country Club. He loved the game.
My daughter, Maggie, says that “Throughout his life, Papa remained ridiculously optimistic.” He had a goofy sense of humor which often got laughs, but not many people really knew or understood him. He was very philosophical and had great curiosity and a “wow” sense about everything in life!
When my mother died 22 years ago, my father was truly lost. In another amazing twist of fate, he was lucky enough to meet a woman who he could spend the next 21 years of his life with. Helene was devoted to him always; they were great companions. Gabe golfed well into his eighties, and enjoyed endless trips around New England and frequent rides to his beloved Revere Beach for fried clams and sun and memories of his glorious childhood. Most of all, he appreciated having a spouse again. “I don’t know what Helene ever saw in me,” he would say, but he was so glad she was there.
My father’s vitality, strong presence, his acceptance of life and just being in his company were comforting to me as an adult. There was a lot of pain between us, but we belong to each other. I am his…he is mine.
I hope you’re with your family now, Dad. Safe and protected again.
I love you.