Sal Fili:
CLASS OF 1971
Cedar Ridge High SchoolClass of 1971
Old bridge, NJ
Herricks High SchoolClass of 1971
New hyde park, NY
Herricks Junior High SchoolClass of 1968
Albertson, NY
Notre Dame SchoolClass of 1967
New hyde park, NY
Denton Avenue Elementary SchoolClass of 1965
New hyde park, NY
Sal's Story
In the early 1950's I was born as a small child in Ozone Park , NY.
I lived on the corner of 79th St. behind a pajama factory and 2 blocks away from the 101st avenue EL. It was in this crucible that I was forged, on the mean streets between 101st Avenue and Pitkin avenue in Queens.
For fun we used to go up on the elevated subway platform and take a leak on pedestrians below, through a hole in the deck, then we'd run and hide by climbing up between two billboards in the empty lot nearby.
I attended St. Stanislaus Parish School, where if you ran your stinkin' yapper the brothers and sisters beat you on the backs of your hands with sticks that they gave names to like "Gus". Bunch a sadists.
Recess was 45 minutes each day standing in class formation in complete silence on the church parking lot. If you moved or talked they belted you. Brother Roy once belted me in the face with a closed fist and drew blood because i was slightly out of line.
Naturally, I fell away from the church and became a very angry young man.
But, pretty soon I saw the error of my ways and entered the family construction business and made out pretty good with a bunch of no show jobs.
I used to do some collections on the side. My "Then" photo is a picture of me in Miami Beach in the late 70's on my way in my Coup D'Ville to tip over the china closet of some mook who was behind on his vig.
Along the way I met my wife Angie, who believes the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, but only if you twist the blade and lift. She's the antidote to Viagra, this one.
Does she run her stinkin' yapper constantly? You bet! And when I can't stand i...Expand for more
t any more I go to the social club, grab a belt of scotch, or some espresso and play pinochle with the guys. Or, maybe I'll go to the track and bet on the ponies.
I got 3 worthless kids. I send them to catholic school, too. Why shouldn't the little ankle biters be as miserable as i was? When their grades are no good i slap them around and threaten to sell them off for medical experiments in some third world country. In 2 seconds flat I could have them locked in a container and on their way by freighter out of the harbor downtown, and they know it. What? You think I don't know people?
Eventually, my old man was driven out of business by the Chinese and the Mexicans, coming into this country illegally and flooding the industry with cheap non-union labor. The union was on my old man like white on rice, until he was forced to throw in the towel.
Now I do a little of this and a little of that, to support the ball and chain and the curtain climbers.
I'm a right guy, who's been around. I got a lot goin' for me. My Goomah is a real looker. Most guys think she looks like Angie Dickinson. I live large, I like to eat good and I pay my way with crisp 100 dollar bills.
Nowadays I drive a 4 door, 1983, Buick LeSabre. I tell my crew you need to keep a low profile. That miserable lowlife, Gotti, may he rot in his grave, brought heat down on all of us with that hemorrhoid Giuliani, by trying to be a celebrity. What a stunod.
My "Now" photo is a picture of me taken by my bookie to send to his collection "agent", when the trifecta I bet on didn't come through. The jockeys were on the take, I swear. Filthy little mopes.
So, how YOU doin'?
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