King of Peace Mentors

cover pic- Nicholas Cusato

T-Shirt a Bernie Kitzinger production?

Personal post submitted by MS contributor Vince Lanci- Soren K.

Background

The original post was hosted on an old website in early 2014 that since went offline. A few guys from KOP asked about it recently. I dug it up on a computer and Soren was kind enough to host it for me this time.- vbl

Original Post- Spring 2014

I've been on FaceBook for a few days, but the words written now were written years ago. I left South Philly at 19, leaving to seek a career in finance and get out of an uncomfortable family situation. I now have 3 children of my own and cherish them as all of you do your own. It's time to circle back to my neighborhood. Knowing you all has benefited me.This post is an acknowledgment of the neighborhood mentors I had living at 2009 S. Hollywood st. Many of you did not even know you were teaching me. 2M8 is just a signpost, but also a touch-stone for many. [Edit- I found the 2M8 corner street sign in the lot on Hollywood st, no doubt taken down by grays ferry kids in some retaliation and thrown there. I took it home and kept it in my house until I left philly] The same holds true for me. I learned much watching from the periphery about life from everyone I was lucky enough to have known. Lessons that sustained me outside the neighborhood.

Intro

Hope what follows is a decent give back for anyone who reads ahead. Some of the facts below may be off. Let me know. The impressions left on me are what I'm giving back. These are one person’s perception of events. No claim of factual accuracy is made- VBL

First, If I've learned anything over the years it is:

1- Time heals all wounds but the scars left grow with you. One must pay attention to those scars to avoid repeating past mistakes.

2- Intellect Cannot Keep Emotion in Check. Repressed Emotions find a way to ruin you if you do not let them breathe, acknowledge them and move on.

3- Despite what we were taught, there are more than 2 Religions in the world (Catholic and Public!). - Sister pointing at the window in direction of public school across street. "Do you want to go there and be like them, without G-d?". [Edit- I’ve since converted to the same religion my children are being raised]

Most Pics courtesy of The King of Peace Classes of the 70's Alumni Page [Edit- link broken, any idea where it is now?]

Mark Cipparone and me. Shirts ready for Take-off.

Mentors and Teachers

Dom Giordano- everything.

Who taught me how to play to win, not cheat and never quit. Who sensed something in me, like he did with all kids. Who put up a basketball court on "The Circle". This was probably the single reason I was able to play without falling on my face around talented players like Carl Arrigale, Moker, Eddie Malandro, and Mario Romano. And to get me to stop asking to play in his own back yard too I bet. Who pulled up in his car while I was playing in the rain at night and said, "Don't stop" and drove away. Who gave me a home plate so my Dad and I could practice pitching with a target in the middle of Hollywood St.

The only person whose name I could invoke that would make my Mother back down and let me work on something. "Mom, Dom said I should stand on my head in traffic and say my ABCs backwards. It helps hand eye coordination." Mom: "Ok if Dom said so."

Dennis "Den-Den" Green- take your own path

Who without saying a word showed me Dom wasn't always right, and there are other ways to shoot a basketball and see the court. Who introduced me to Pete Maravich's style.Who Dom blew the whistle on every time for traveling when he probably wasn't. I imitated that ridiculous crooked arm shot he had. The ball would spin like a top on the way to the basket. Ahead of his time. Reggie Miller should pay Den-Den royalties.

Joey Hopkins- You cannot know how far a stick will bend until you break it.

Who alternatively abused and protected me as a younger neighborhood kid (par for the course, right?). Who tested limits with authority. Who made outrageous philosophical statements at the bus stop like. "All movies are Rocky. A screwup or underdog gets a chance, almost messes it up, gets inspired, overcomes odds. It is all Rocky".

To this day I say that in the same controversial tone just to piss people off. "Good Will Hunting, a Rocky Story! Top Gun? Rocky did it first." Here is the real brilliance. Rocky was the Jesus story. The movie opens with a picture of Jesus and Stallone even admitted it.

So for Joseph Hopkins: "Jesus? Rocky did it first. Beat it kid!" [sinks 20ft jumper outside his own fence]

Den-Den and Joey Hopkins

The 2M8 Older Kids- be a part of something bigger than yourself.

Heroes I was in awe of. Giants in sports at KoP, tough, tight, cool. I watched them from Speca's corner hoping they'd ask me to play ball in Cusato's Court. And for ignoring my desire to be a part of that group at such a young age. My path was written differently.

Cusato Brothers- Who showed me the importance of fraternal loyalty. I remember wanting a big brother so much watching them cover each other’s backs.
Rickie Basso- Who was the first All Around Athlete winner at KoP I knew. My dad said I turned to him that night and stated, "I’m going to win that one day."

Eddie Malandro: Habit creates Character. Character creates Destiny

We had a CYO basketball practice during his first time on T.V. ( a football All-Star game I think). It was the longest Basketball practice I remember. I didn't understand why. Then I saw Ed, the best athlete I've ever known fighting tears as he was holding his arms up during a stamina drill we were doing. Nothing hurt Ed, I knew something was wrong. Egos were on the line, parents pacing the practice, unseen power struggles. But he did not walk off. He did not quit to see himself. He stuck it out. A 14yr old kid in the days before VCRs and Digital Recorders not running to see himself on TV. Hat Tip to his Dad especially. Where he is now is a testament to those years

Anthony Cuffari- Like yourself. Others will like you.

Probably my first "earned" best friend. When I finally realized around 6th grade that winning Spelling Bees did not make me cool, and beating Sandra Gentile, Kim Muni, Robin Scheld, Patricia Giordano, Terri Foderaro, Roseann Hopkins ( Don't hit me Joe!), Dotsy Antonini, Simone Pucca and every other girl I ever had a crush on was not going to get them to kiss me, I focused on sports. And I got to be friends with Anthony as a result.

Baptism by fire.: After crushing my face with his elbow for having the audacity to take him down in tackle fly at school (TACKLE FLY, that was insane), for some reason we became friends. All 8th grade we were tight. Then post Sports Night it ended. He was probably the better all-around athlete and I naively tried to give him the award after winning it, but it was too late. Our friendship flamed out.

I remember once walking to practice at KoP together displaying my Bruce Lee technique at knocking off car mirrors with my hand while he laughed and dared me to do it again. I was always a cupcake playing tough to avoid beatings. Then I cut my hand badly on a broken mirrror. We walked into practice with me hemorrhaging and I lied to Dom how it happened. Moker backed me up to the letter. Dom saw thru him, but Moke didn’t waver.

I remember him coining "Lanci Logic" when I made absurd but inarguable statements. It was the highest praise from my best friend at the time. E.g.-"Vincent, tie your shoes, you will trip over your own feet!" Me: "How? There is always one foot in the air, and when I put that foot down it is in front of the other foot's laces. You're wrong" . I had a gift for believing my own B.S. and getting beatings for it. (See Jay McG below).

If memory serves, Anthony was tagged with Moker by an older kid after singing "The Joker" lyrics wrong in the school yard and asked me what Moker meant. or i asked the older kid what moker meant. Either way, the answer was: "not good the way that guy is using it". Anthony didn't care and owned the word redefining it. It was awesome. He nicknamed himself from a misheard lyric and an older kid teasing him. Liking Yourself is key.

Joseph Montone (Frankie's Bro)- friendship

I helped him in school secretly. He helped me not be such a dork (secretly). I died the day he left KoP. Having drunk the kool-aid that he'd wither and die if not in a Catholic school. HE'LL DIE IN BENSON!!

He taught me how to drink (MaltDuck, lol). I taught him non-curse words he could use to abuse the nuns. "Sister, may I be excused, I have to XYZ1?" Sr: "Yes you may Joseph."

I lived bad boy through him. He'd let me call him stupid if no-one was around. Joe: "Hey Vin, look at this tattoo."

Me: "You idiot, I know why you are doing this, but that is stupid. Show me the needle. How did you do it. Jesus you can kill yourself like that!"

Him: "MaltDuck later?"

Me: "Yup. I bet I can finish mine faster!"

[Edit- today, Joe and I have reconnected and things are great]

Sister Josephine- for letting my father shine, revealing Sr. Agne's genius and revealing to me that infallibility should stay in spiritual debates.

On a walk around desk inspection in 6th grade, Sister looked at my desk and reamed me for carving on it.

Sr: "Look at this! Mr. Lanci heaven offend thee, you vandalized this desk" (Laziness that I ever offend thee was her favorite I think)

Me: Sr I didn't do it.

Sr. Yes you did

Me: Sr. this was already lacquered over. it's old. Look.

Sr. Admit it! ( like a monty python spanish inquisition sketch)

Me: Sr. (Crying now, but still using logic to defend myself against an authority figure i respected) I'm left handed, this is the upper right corner of the desk. I didn't do it

Sr.: Well Jesus sat at the righthand of G-d. You should be ashamed

Me: ran out of the room bawling to Sister Agnes' office. Who I learned that day was a rock star, a genius in administration.

Sr Agnes: Call your Dad and have him talk to Sr. Josephine (no argument, no green stick, no taking sides...... expulsion?!?)

Next: Me, Sr. Josephine, and my father in a private room. Sr. Agnes did not attend.

I weighed the odds, My Father was always non-confrontational. This was lose-lose I thought. But what happened next blew me away. Out of the gate.

My Dad: apologize to my son. You are wrong. You made your best student break down (dad bias!). What is wrong with you? He says he didn't do it, he didn't do it.

Me: shitting my pants as you NEVER talk to a nun like that.

Sr. Josephine: through those closed eyes, chin up, head shaking. “Vincent, I'm sorry."

My conclusion, years later was Sr. Agnes had set the table during her chat with my Dad. She knew I was innocent (of this!), was skeptical of Sr. Josephine's methods but remained respectful by not attending.

And that day was seminal in my understanding of religion, reason, and love. And my testing of sacred cows. And childish revenge:

I began throwing Zots at the board. They shattered leaving white chalk-like powder there. Sr. Had to keep cleaning the board when she walked out and in the room. I never left my seat. She suffered interminably the rest of the year. I somewhat became what she accused me of after that. Sr. Josephine was the exception in my experience tho.

The KoP Nuns: selflessness

The most under appreciated, overworked, unconditionally loyal people in the Church. The glue that is the Church's biggest intangible asset. Their being taken for granted is a huge reason for the Church's condition today. They were the soul of my KoP education. Miss Cox was the brains (thank G-d) of my learning, but Sister Anne (4th grade) and Sister Agnes live inside my heart.

Sr Agnes:

2nd grade, late for Mass, bawling in fear, inconsolable. Scared to go with my grade. Standing at the back of the Church insanely telling my own Mother that she was wrong, that I'm going to hell for this. (if you knew my mom, you’d know to argue with Patricia Stabile was instant retribution for me later)

Sister Agnes walks up to me. GREEN STICK, KICK YOUR ASS SISTER mind you. She puts her arm around me, walks me away from my mom and explains in tones the best Psychologist would die to have

"It's Ok"

"G-d knows you didn't mean it"

"You've committed no sin at all,

I'm calmer but confused. My faith is shaken at 7. It comes out like this: "But, that’s not what we learned."

Her response was one of empathy seeing I was ready to understand a little more than rules. "Vincent, here is a secret. You are right, missing mass is a sin. BUT you only really miss mass if you come in after Father's Homily. So you aren't late in His eyes unless you miss everything after that. That is the real rule. Now don't be late to sit with your class anymore. But you have not committed a sin. Go to your class now."

Sister Anne:

Brilliant, funny, sensitive, faithfilled person. Gave me a present sitting on her lap when she said she was leaving the school. A piece of printer type set. The words were "Belle la Paix in the sky above" I still have it. Taught jokes, claimed to be born Feb 29th and told us she was 15 yrs old. An Angel.

Jay McGlaughlin - for beating the crap out of me

THE Good Times.

Anna Maroccia was my girlfriend in 8th grade. One problem: Despite her last name, Anna was a St .Gabe's kid. And walking by THE Store with THE Ledge where 3T0 drank THE Beer from THE Bar was not smart for a discoed out Dago named Vinny.

I used to take detours down the line between the 2M6 crew and the 3T0 crew, walking like a crab sideways to get from 2000 Hollywood to 29th and Wharton. Sometimes, I'd dare walk by 3T0 on my way home, (never 2M6). My theory being those guys were mellower when buzzed, and it’s mostly true. But not on this night. The usual empty quart bottles went whizzing by my head. (run and they chase you. Stand firm and they kill you... just put your head down and keep walking).

Suddenly I was surrounded. Jay, Joe McSorley, Kane, and a couple others. I knew Joe from basketball. Kane I knew from Baseball. Proud to be the only Italian on Kane's Aces. But I didn't know Jay. That was very bad.

Jay was older, had hung with Hollywood and Wharton crew didn't play sports and was just scary. The guys I knew deferred to him. Next I put my foot in my mouth and got clocked for it.

Jay: you called my cousin a whore.

Me: Huh? Who is your cousin? Almost peeing myself.

Jay: says Lisa Something ( I think) [Edit- Mary Beth Haggerty]

Me: I didn't call her that.

Him: you saying she's lying? (The blood was pounding in my ears. I run and it will be worse for years. Fight and I will lose and possibly get jumped. I'll use reason!!)

Me making it worse:"Ohhhh..Now I know what you're talking about. She, and 2 other girls were wearing those purple plastic jackets. I joked that they LOOKED LIKE WHORES in them and should be careful. I didn't say they were whores Jay." IDIOT AWARD TO.... Vincent Lanci (1/4 Irish)

Next was blood. Jay suckered me in the left eye as I was appealing to Joe to get me out of this. 1 punch 6 stiches. He would have killed me I think if those other guys didn't know me and Anna. They held him back as I crumpled. Kane walked me home because I couldn't see through the blood and tears. Jay was unsatisfied. Had I fought back, I'd be in the hospital. Scratch that I WAS in the hospital. I’d have been in ICU.

Plenty of other fights with the Irish kids over the years and didn't win one. Well... once I did. But that victory caused 10 kids to bury me at the Neumann Carnival in revenge. Right in front of a Priest too. Later became friends with some of the guys due to sports shared. Fitzy, Joe McSorley, Kane. By friends I mean "tolerated" in their neighborhood. But Jay taught me a lesson. Cant figure it out yet, but I learned something there. [Edit: stfu and duck!]

So many others not given the proper time here.

Anthony and Ernie DellaPia- big brothers
Miss Cox- empowering
Carl Arrigale Senior- respect
John Sabato- tolerance, love
Ed Cook- cool under pressure, patience throwing my balls out from his wall.
Franny Smith (what he represented)- the outpouring reaction to his death was overwhelming and was a seminal moment of what it meant to be good in the face of evil from the story I remember
Father Muhlman- best homilies ever
Mick Dipietro- total dedication
Guy Forte- 15 guys in a convertible driving to a game, the best heart
Bomber- how to focus anger
Joe Dipietro- why I started pitching
Jimmy Patitucci- just bad ass w/o being a bully
The guys who played "Dont take away the Music" for Vincent Scidurlo at Sports night- time froze

All were Mentors in some way that enriched my life. Many more not mentioned here.

[EDIT- missing pic of Franny Smith. Someone please provide and will insert]

End

Footnote:

To the guys who protected us in the KOP school yard that day the kid climbed the fence trying to come in the yard and kill us. I remember this neighborhood kid trying to get in the yard, and cutting himself on the barbed wire. He was insane. The older kids herded us to the other side of the yard, and then one or 2 kicked his ass.

I remember saying to myself; “how crazy is he to cut himself to try to get in the yard and still keep coming?” and later.. “how crazy were the guys that protected us from that nut?”

Thanks Anna.

For my Dad

Here are 2 comments from when this was first posted. The commenters’ names were lost

Comments:

The last picture is of Franny Smith. Killed by 26th streeters days after my first marriage in 1978. Your insights are great and could be anyone of the thousands of graduates from KoP. Still miss my man Vinny Scidoo. He used to have this great brown Chevy Impala that we'd go to discos in before he relapsed. If you ever add to this story don't forget the pool room and touch football leagues. And possibly the best thing about the KoP memory .... RECESS!!!!
Awesome. As a KOP grad (1981) it's great to hear others stories.

Good Luck