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Hope you enjoy this post about a dear friend....
Ken
LEO ROSELLI
I’ve chronicled my athletic background ad nauseum in this blog. For a guy most people don’t remember (I’m too egocentric to say never heard of), I have a fairly impressive athletic resume, if I do say so myself. Special mention All State basketball in High School, All- Region NJCAA basketball in junior college, division one scholarship basketball at Memphis State, division one football scholarship at Memphis State (without having played ANY high school football), member of the 1980 NFC Champion Philadelphia Eagles, member of the 1983-85 two time USFL champion Philadelphia/Baltimore Stars, three professional football championship rings, and a scrapbook that equals the bulk of the local yellow pages. For a farm boy from northern Illinois, I can look back on my achievements with great pride. However, I won an award on Monday that I will forever cherish. It doesn’t have any diamonds, and it is possibly the smallest trophy in my possesion. But what it represents is incredibly important.
For those of you who know me personally, my family hasn’t had the easiest of times. Blessed with four daughters and a set of triplets, our daughter Alexandra is a cancer survivor, but the chemotherapy treatments cost her most of her hearing and part of her eyesight. My wife Terri had a terrible mishap last May in front of our home when she was hit by a car while standing near our driveway. I rushed back from a business meeting in NYC to find her in the Cooper Hospital trauma unit with a badly bruised and bleeding brain. Thank God she survived, but it was two months of hell between Cooper and the rehab hospital. During this period, I had a dispute with my employer regarding the time I missed while being at the hospital attending to my wife, and I left my six figure position. Two weeks later, the stock market crashed and even though I have an impeccable resume and a history of success in my field, I found most employers shying away from hiring a 50+ high salary salesman due to financial conditions. So I started my own company and now work out of my home. It’s been a roller coaster ride to say the least.
Prior to my wife’s accident, she was employed in food preparation for the family owned Italian specialty food store L. E. Roselli’s in Medford, NJ. This small shop with a huge kitchen in the back turns out some of the most authentic and delicious Italian lasagna, marinara sauce, sausage and meatballs (among other goodies) that you have ever tasted. It was owned and operated by Leo Roselli, who took it over from his parents Delores and Leo Roselli several years ago. Around the holidays the line wraps around the door to get in. Not only is the food great, the prices are fair. Needless to say, it’s a most popular and thriving business.
When Terri was injured, my cell phone was ringing off the hook. I was literally exhausted and my nerves were shot. Although I was so appreciative of the love and concern everyone was showing for my wife and our family, I was physically incapable of answering all the calls I was receiving at that time. I did try to call a select few, and they were so kind to spread the word to the others that we were all doing as well as could be expected, but it was touch and go at the time. When the phone rang one more time and I saw it was Leo, I mustered the strength to hit the “send” button on my cell and accepted the call.
“Listen, Ken. I won’t keep you long. I just want to tell you that everyone here loves you and your family, and we are going to keep paying Terri her full salary as long as we possibly can” Leo said. “When you get around to it, eventually you can stop in and I can help you fill out the state disability papers, but for right now I want you to just take care of your family and let me help you here”. “By the way, Ed DiLorenzo (Leo’s second in command) and I are coming over tonight to cut your lawn. You stay at the hospital, and call me if you need anything” Of course I was appreciative, but was too tired to express it properly at the time. I merely whimpered a heartfelt “thanks” as we ended the conversation, and brushed the tears of gratitude away from my eyes.
On Friday of that week, Delores Roselli called the house and my daughter Taylor answered. “Can you come over here”? she asked. “I’ve got your Mom’s paycheck and I’d like to give it to you”. So Taylor got in her mom’s Honda Pilot and headed towards the store. She was back in about thirty minutes and hurried inside to speak to me. “Dad”, she said, “I need your help bringing all this in”. “Bringing what in”? I asked. “Why do you need help bringing Mommy’s paycheck in”? “No”, Taylor countered. “They filled the car with food.”
I went outside and my jaw dropped. My large SUV was filled to the brim with more food than Mussolini’s army could have hoped for. Italian bread, cheese, frozen and fresh pasta, sauce, you name it. It took us about 20 minutes to unload it all and put it away. And this episode repeated itself week, after week, after week; more food, more paychecks, and more philanthropy than I had ever experienced.
Leo didn’t want to bother me with phone calls. But I noticed when I would come home late at night from the hospital the lawn was mowed and edged often. I knew who did it, and it was so incredibly thoughtful. “What a great guy and what a nice family”, I said to myself as I struggled in the door to do the household duties Terri had done so often that I had so much taken for granted. I truly had an appreciation for my wife, the Roselli’s, my health and family, and many other things this latest life lesson had taught me.I visited Leo as often as I could during this period, and expressed the gratitude that I felt to him and his family. The last time I saw him I mentioned that he looked like he was losing weight, and he said he had no idea why.
Leo Roselli died on Tuesday, July 14 2009 after a short but courageous battle with a rare cancer of the sweat glands. He was 43 years old, and left a wife Laura, two young sons Matthew and Leo, along with hundreds of heartbroken family, co-workers and friends. They had a golf tournament in his honor last Monday. I shot a 77 and won a small trophy of a school bus as my prize. Although I never got to play golf with him, it seems Leo had a terrible slice and hit his ball inside a school bus traveling down an adjacent road to the golf course once. Luckily no kids were on the bus at the time, and he disavowed any knowledge of the act when the angry driver confronted the foursome. So it was decided that the trophy to the winner would be that of a school bus. I will place it on a prominent spot in my trophy area and cherish it as much or more than any of the afore mentioned accomplishments.
When Billy Joel wrote “Only the Good Die Young”, he could have been writing about Leo Roselli. And he will be missed by all of us. Had he gotten to know him, even that school bus driver would surely miss him as well.
I’ve chronicled my athletic background ad nauseum in this blog. For a guy most people don’t remember (I’m too egocentric to say never heard of), I have a fairly impressive athletic resume, if I do say so myself. Special mention All State basketball in High School, All- Region NJCAA basketball in junior college, division one scholarship basketball at Memphis State, division one football scholarship at Memphis State (without having played ANY high school football), member of the 1980 NFC Champion Philadelphia Eagles, member of the 1983-85 two time USFL champion Philadelphia/Baltimore Stars, three professional football championship rings, and a scrapbook that equals the bulk of the local yellow pages. For a farm boy from northern Illinois, I can look back on my achievements with great pride. However, I won an award on Monday that I will forever cherish. It doesn’t have any diamonds, and it is possibly the smallest trophy in my possesion. But what it represents is incredibly important.
For those of you who know me personally, my family hasn’t had the easiest of times. Blessed with four daughters and a set of triplets, our daughter Alexandra is a cancer survivor, but the chemotherapy treatments cost her most of her hearing and part of her eyesight. My wife Terri had a terrible mishap last May in front of our home when she was hit by a car while standing near our driveway. I rushed back from a business meeting in NYC to find her in the Cooper Hospital trauma unit with a badly bruised and bleeding brain. Thank God she survived, but it was two months of hell between Cooper and the rehab hospital. During this period, I had a dispute with my employer regarding the time I missed while being at the hospital attending to my wife, and I left my six figure position. Two weeks later, the stock market crashed and even though I have an impeccable resume and a history of success in my field, I found most employers shying away from hiring a 50+ high salary salesman due to financial conditions. So I started my own company and now work out of my home. It’s been a roller coaster ride to say the least.
Prior to my wife’s accident, she was employed in food preparation for the family owned Italian specialty food store L. E. Roselli’s in Medford, NJ. This small shop with a huge kitchen in the back turns out some of the most authentic and delicious Italian lasagna, marinara sauce, sausage and meatballs (among other goodies) that you have ever tasted. It was owned and operated by Leo Roselli, who took it over from his parents Delores and Leo Roselli several years ago. Around the holidays the line wraps around the door to get in. Not only is the food great, the prices are fair. Needless to say, it’s a most popular and thriving business.
When Terri was injured, my cell phone was ringing off the hook. I was literally exhausted and my nerves were shot. Although I was so appreciative of the love and concern everyone was showing for my wife and our family, I was physically incapable of answering all the calls I was receiving at that time. I did try to call a select few, and they were so kind to spread the word to the others that we were all doing as well as could be expected, but it was touch and go at the time. When the phone rang one more time and I saw it was Leo, I mustered the strength to hit the “send” button on my cell and accepted the call.
“Listen, Ken. I won’t keep you long. I just want to tell you that everyone here loves you and your family, and we are going to keep paying Terri her full salary as long as we possibly can” Leo said. “When you get around to it, eventually you can stop in and I can help you fill out the state disability papers, but for right now I want you to just take care of your family and let me help you here”. “By the way, Ed DiLorenzo (Leo’s second in command) and I are coming over tonight to cut your lawn. You stay at the hospital, and call me if you need anything” Of course I was appreciative, but was too tired to express it properly at the time. I merely whimpered a heartfelt “thanks” as we ended the conversation, and brushed the tears of gratitude away from my eyes.
On Friday of that week, Delores Roselli called the house and my daughter Taylor answered. “Can you come over here”? she asked. “I’ve got your Mom’s paycheck and I’d like to give it to you”. So Taylor got in her mom’s Honda Pilot and headed towards the store. She was back in about thirty minutes and hurried inside to speak to me. “Dad”, she said, “I need your help bringing all this in”. “Bringing what in”? I asked. “Why do you need help bringing Mommy’s paycheck in”? “No”, Taylor countered. “They filled the car with food.”
I went outside and my jaw dropped. My large SUV was filled to the brim with more food than Mussolini’s army could have hoped for. Italian bread, cheese, frozen and fresh pasta, sauce, you name it. It took us about 20 minutes to unload it all and put it away. And this episode repeated itself week, after week, after week; more food, more paychecks, and more philanthropy than I had ever experienced.
Leo didn’t want to bother me with phone calls. But I noticed when I would come home late at night from the hospital the lawn was mowed and edged often. I knew who did it, and it was so incredibly thoughtful. “What a great guy and what a nice family”, I said to myself as I struggled in the door to do the household duties Terri had done so often that I had so much taken for granted. I truly had an appreciation for my wife, the Roselli’s, my health and family, and many other things this latest life lesson had taught me.I visited Leo as often as I could during this period, and expressed the gratitude that I felt to him and his family. The last time I saw him I mentioned that he looked like he was losing weight, and he said he had no idea why.
Leo Roselli died on Tuesday, July 14 2009 after a short but courageous battle with a rare cancer of the sweat glands. He was 43 years old, and left a wife Laura, two young sons Matthew and Leo, along with hundreds of heartbroken family, co-workers and friends. They had a golf tournament in his honor last Monday. I shot a 77 and won a small trophy of a school bus as my prize. Although I never got to play golf with him, it seems Leo had a terrible slice and hit his ball inside a school bus traveling down an adjacent road to the golf course once. Luckily no kids were on the bus at the time, and he disavowed any knowledge of the act when the angry driver confronted the foursome. So it was decided that the trophy to the winner would be that of a school bus. I will place it on a prominent spot in my trophy area and cherish it as much or more than any of the afore mentioned accomplishments.
When Billy Joel wrote “Only the Good Die Young”, he could have been writing about Leo Roselli. And he will be missed by all of us. Had he gotten to know him, even that school bus driver would surely miss him as well.
Ken, That's a beautiful and well written tribute and I'm glad to see it meant a lot to you. Leo meant a lot to all of us. I look forward to meeting with you and Ed to discuss plans for next year's tourney. Chris Roselli
ReplyDeleteHi Ken, As I read this tribute, unfortunately in work, my eyes were filling up with tears. I usually chuckle reading your stories. I'm sorry to hear this man passed away as he was a great friend to you and your family, and foremost a husband and father. The school bus is a great way to remember this man.
ReplyDelete... Barbara Nesbitt
Ken, it was appreciated by my daugther and grandson's that you attended this years event with all his other friends and family members.
ReplyDeleteI also could go on about the man Leo was but so many others have expressed this.
He was so correct when he said we loved Terri, while working at Roselli's for some time I believe we became close friends, which was not hard to do as she is a fantastic individual.
I will miss my Son-In-Law as he was a friend to me and we had so many fun times. A father could not ask for a better Son-in-Law, he was truly dedicated to his wife and son's. He will be missed but never forgotten.
....Reds Grayson
A beautiful tribute to Leo! He was truly one of a kind. All who crossed his path were blessed to be part of his life. Cherished memories of Leo will keep him close to my heart always.
ReplyDeleteLeo was a fellow Rotarian. He exemplified Rotary's motto: "Service Above Self." Rest in peace, my Rotary brother.
Thanks to everyone for the beautiful comments. Obviously Leo touched many lives, and he will be missed.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for writing about Leo. I have so many great memories and I know I will never forget them
ReplyDeletenice story Ken, It's great to read about the authentic Americans among us.
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful tribute, Ken. I never had the honor of meeting Leo but I feel like I have gotten a small glimpse into his life after all the wonderful stories Terri has told me about him. It is obvious Leo is loved deeply by so many and that the world is a better place because of him.
ReplyDeleteI also have to thank God that Terri walked out of that hospital. The terrifying first moments, days and months after her accident are forever tattooed on my heart. She is a fighter and is one of the absolute strongest people I know. She has been through more in one year than most people experience in a lifetime. God gave her a second chance at life and she obviously has many important things still left to do. I love her with all my heart.