Life in the Ville by Jimmy Del Ponte

On October 5 my dad would have been 100 years old. He grew up in Somerville when a movie ticket was 15 cents, gas cost 30 cents a gallon, and a new house was around five grand.

Ferdinando DelPonte, or Fred for short, was born right in the house, on Elmwood St., between Teele and Davis Squares, in 1920. He was the oldest of six with a younger brother and 4 sisters. So, on this momentous occasion, on what would have been my Dad’s 100th birthday, I present this remembrance/tribute to lifelong Somerville resident, my dad, Fred DelPonte.

Fred 1990

There were stories about the family dinners where my grandpa threw a loaf of French bread at dad. He ducked and it broke the window in the … French door. When his father (my grandpa) was out of the state for a while, dad sold the family piano to buy a television set.

At age 20 (1940) he enlisted in the Air Force and was promoted to Technical Sargent. He was stationed in Italy where we still had lots of family. Legend has it that the DelPontes in the hills of the little hillbilly town of Roccasicura were kept warm by surplus US Air Force blankets. They also found a way to cook up K Rations with meatballs and sauce. Dad utilized the good neighbor policy, and shared some overflow of Uncle Sam’s goodwill.

Dad had a few favorite stories he liked to tell. At his Air Force rank, he could … finagle paper work. He once had Frank Sinatra bumped off of a flight after a USO show because he had been very rude to the staff. Dad did things his way.

He was against motorcycles because as a teenager he had fallen off the back of one. He said he bounced for about half a mile! In 1950 when he was on his way home from his job at the shipyard, his car was stopped and searched the night of The Brinks Robbery.

Fred and Gerry with dad’s parents, Concetta and Giuseppe DelPonte, 1951.

He once convinced the staff at Fort Devans that he was a Somerville Alderman and got him, me and my brother a chauffeured VIP tour of the base. When we joined the Scouts, dad did too. Imagine being 13 years old, at Scout camp for a week, and your dad comes along? Me and my brother got teased relentlessly by some of our wise guy fellow scouts. Dad took no crap though. He gave them garbage detail! He also did a few years as an usher at St. Clements Church strictly for the delicious free breakfasts in the Rectory. During mass he was known to playfully “tap” people he knew with the collection basket.

In the 60’s and 70’s dad hung around a lot of the “gin mills” in Davis Square, like Pat Connelly’s, The Coronet, (Currently Redbones) and The Cadillac. It was from hanging around in those joints that dad brought home merchandise that as he said ” fell off the truck.” Items like guitars, an accordion, a violin, clothes, boots and tools. I remember him bringing home 20 lb. hunks of cheese and other bulk foods. Mom didn’t like the ill begotten stuff he’d come home with. I know where I inherited the “I love junk” gene.

Fred DelPonte worked as the chief power plant engineer and ran the steam boilers at WR Grace in Cambridge, formerly Dewey and Almy Chemical Company, for 38 years. He loved his job and was commended often. One of the fringe benefits of that job were huge rolls of plastic wrap and aluminum foil and big, heavy, empty metal barrels that we used for household trash. I had to roll those possibly once toxic material filled barrels in and out for years.

Dad really took advantage of SWAG… stuff we all get. At work, dad made a steel ice chopper and a plexiglass ice scrapper that we still have. Dad also worked part time as a limo driver for Cataldo Funeral Home, and he repaired watches in a workshop in our house. We still have a few watches of the nuns from St. Clements school and some uncles that he never got to.

Joey, Fred, Gerry, Christine and me, 1975.

Fred had some favorite sayings like, “Someday the roof is going to fall in on you,” and “Jimmy, your mouth is going to get you in a lot of trouble!” He must have been psychic! If he was telling me about someone who passed away, he would say, “You know who cashed in?” Then I’d have to guess until he told me. Dad also worked at The Somerville Theatre when he was a teenager. Both my son and I also worked there.

Dad had friends from childhood that he kept close throughout his life. He grew up with beloved Somerville educator Dr. David W Jones. Dad, my Uncle Sal and Dr. Jones, or “Wendy” as they called him were golf buddies. Uncle Sal, my Auntie Olga’s husband was his best friend. Dad never got a “haircut” but he did get his “ears lowered ” at Alibrandi’s Barber Shop, like most of my uncles did.

In the 1980’s, dad became a big shot in the Masons. He was truly devout and took it extremely seriously. I even went through the ranks and became a Shriner which made him very proud.

I remember my Dad’s friends. He was a member of the ITAMs, which stood for The Italian American War Veterans. They had a little clubhouse on Cameron Ave. for meetings (Recently condo-ized). There was a big party there every year after the Memorial Day Parade. Some of us kids marched with the ITAMs in the parade, which was a huge thrill. Joe Antonelli entertained everyone on the piano back at the clubhouse after the parade. Joe was a big influence on my piano playing and silly song writing.

My father’s friends meant a lot to him. Sabby and Andy Capuano, Marie Howe, Joe Antonelli, Eddie Pellagrini, Lenny Scott, Mary Forni, Frank Moran, Billy McKenzie, Johnny Bowe were a few of his lifelong pals. Former mayor and Somerville royalty, Gene Brune, was one of my dad’s and my whole family’s dearest friends. We all love Gene.

DelPonte Square on Elmwood St, across from the family home.

Dad also remained close to his brother and sisters and their spouses. In later years Donald Norton, Lloyd Neal, and Ross Blouin were his buddies. But his best pal was his dog Poopsie. They were inseparable.

My dad’s brother was Joe, the former Somerville fireman. Dad worked helping out in his business, “Del’s Glass.” Dad brought me and my sister and brother to the fire station often. Uncle Joe would let us climb all over Engine 7, ring the bells, and slide down the pole when we got older. Big thrills for kids.

Dad married Somerville girl Geraldine Artone in August of 1951. They met teaching Sunday school at St. Anthony’s Church and were married by Father Properzi, who also baptized me and my siblings. Mom attended Southern Junior High School and graduated from Somerville High School in 1944. Dad went to the Western Junior High School and graduated SHS in 1938. True Highlanders!

Dad loved to give stuff away. My brother and I weren’t using our Lionel trains enough so dad gave them away. We were afraid to stop playing with our toys! He was very generous and would help anyone who needed it.

When I was around 12, my dad decided to take guitar lessons from Mr. Cuneo, who my dad always called Maestro. He got himself a nice folk guitar “off the truck” and we would play together in the yard. Great memory. He also lent me $5,000 in cash to buy a Pontiac Trans Am complete with the decals. I gave him $100 a week for a few months and then he told me to “forget the rest of the dough.” He was extremely generous with a huge heart. A typical Somerville guy. In later life, dad’s favorite spot was The Supreme Deli, formerly in Davis Square.

Dad lost our mom in 1986, and his daughter (my sister) in 1992. Around 1993 we learned that his son (my brother ) was terminally ill. Dad passed away in 1994 and outlived my brother by just six months. My sister left a young daughter. Dad and his granddaughter became best pals. He was the best grandpa ever. Dad had a few very tough years toward the end of his life but never lost his sense of humor. Well, almost never.

I hope my kids remember me as lovingly as I remember my father. God knows I’ve bought them enough musical equipment over the years! But seriously, my dad was quite a colorful character, with a loud voice and huge heart. He was always in a good mood unless he needed to be stern. He stood by me in some dark times, always being supportive in his own gruff way.

I realized that at the ripe old age of 67, that my father, Fred DelPonte, was my very best friend. Another one of his favorite sayings that stands out for me was, “Just tell them your daddy said so!” He was a fierce defender of his family and friends. After all, he was all Somerville, born and bred. Happy heavenly 100th birthday dad. You’re still very much alive in my heart.