Mother: Ann
Father: Lou

I don’t have a lot of distinct memories about growing up. My father’s family owned a business called the Old Dutch brewery. They had owned it for a number of years.

In 1957 they sold to a conglomerate. My father stayed on as the sales manager. In 1961 they wanted to transfer my father to another brewery in Buffalo, New York. There were five kids in seven years and I was next-to-the-youngest.

Think my parents just decided that there were better things to do and be in the brewery business at that time.

My mother is from a large family, the Rooney family. There are a lot of Rooneys in town. I remember Sunday mornings going to mass and then going to my grandmother’s house where we ate a lot, and played pinochle. I remember her cinnamon rolls very well.

At this time I had three really good friends. One was a neighbor across the alley from my grandmother. One was a kid who lived down the block, and I remember thinking that it was so far to his house. Today I look at it and it was only four houses away.

As a five year old it seemed like I had to hike a mile to get to his house and it was only four doors away.

I was a good kid but if something were to happen it was usually my fault and not one of the others. If the can of paint got knocked over it was me that did it.