The move to Newburgh was truly an adventure. It was the summer before ninth grade. I was 13 years old, and Dad Hagar and I convinced Mom that going to a Catholic all boys school was not in the best interest of my social maturing. All in all, Newburgh was a whole different world. The first 13 years of my life the only exposure to racial struggles and interactions were through Walter Cronkite. LaCrosse, Mandan and Idaho Falls were lily white although the Germans and Irish did not get along in La Crosse. It was going to be interesting. The next four years were full of fun, adventure, friendships that have lasted a lifetime and growing up.
I don’t remember much about the first couple of days in Newburgh prior to moving into our new address. I was still getting over the whole leaving LaCrosse thing. Mom and Dad rented a place from old man Hoyer and Mrs. Hoyer on Albany Post Road just north of Balmville. They were an elderly couple who spent most of their time in Florida and he was n0t a pleasant individual (more on that later). I thought that it was a great house and a great address. Albany Post Road… it just reeked with history. The house sat down off the road and was an old red farmhouse with a very large yard (probably close to an acre). We had the south side of the house which was really just a large apartment that the Hoyer’s had carved out of the house. It had 3 bedrooms upstairs and a largish bathroom with no shower and an iron clawfoot bathtub – no shower??. There was a wraparound porch on the first floor, a large country type kitchen, small half-bath, dining room and living room and a huge side and back yard that eventually supported a large vegetable garden. There was a basement that was just that. Part of it had a dirt floor and the other side had a furnace that looked like it had been installed at the turn of the century (the 20th century). Mom and Dad spent a lot of time and effort while living there to spiff it up to their standards.
The best thing (IMHO) about the house was it was a short 10-minute walk to Grandma and Grandpa Casucci’s house. Grandpa Casucci was my step Grandpa, but he and Grandma had been married for 20+ years by 1969. I loved those folks. The great thing about grandparents is that when they had an opinion on something, they presented it quickly and most often largely unfiltered. I would outline some scheme to grandpa, and he would say in his Italian/New York accent, “Frankie Joe are you nutsy koo koo?” I spent a lot of time with them. Grandma would make sure that I stayed for dinner which was fun because my Uncle Ben would stop by for dinner pretty much every night, so it was always interesting and exciting. Grandma was not an innovative cook, but what she made was always good and there was a lot of it. I took to going to church with them on Sundays (part of the deal that got me out of the Catholic boys’ school) because Mom and Dad were late church goers and in my opinion that shot the whole day in the butt. On top of that, Dad was a very loud singer in church (because he could not hear himself very well) which for me, at the ripe old age of 13, was a little embarrassing. The other draw was that with the grandparents, we would stop after church and get some fresh baked kaiser rolls that we would toast and have for breakfast. I would help weed the garden with grandma or grandpa. They were a hoot (more later about them) and I can’t believe how lucky I was to spend so much time with them.
As we settled in on Albany Post Road and I fretted about how I was going to meet kids my age and try to fit into what was arguably a huge lifestyle change right in the middle of puberty I spent the first day staring out the window of my room listening to music and feeling sorry for myself. Then on day two after the move and settling down, I was staring out the window and Stefanie Antonucci walked down the driveway on her way over to Sylvana Luca’s house and like any good 13-year-old I fell in love…life was good again!! In my suave and debonair mode, I went out and met both her and Sylvana. There are a lot more stories that will follow involving the Antonucci’s as they lived directly across the street from us. Unfortunately, at 13, love is fleeting but being friends with your buddies’ sisters was not and the whole Antonucci clan of 5 kids and Mom and Dad Antonucci would play a big part in the junior high and high school years and to some degree post high school.
