Embracing Life
Almost Mafia
If written, my father's autobiography will be entitled, "Almost Mafia." He declined my offer to be his ghostwriter, saying no one would believe his stories anyway. In fact, until a recent family reunion, he rarely shared any information about his childhood or family history. Perhaps a stranger should write his book.
For as long as I can remember, my dad battled alcoholism. When mother died in 1987, at the age of 55 from substance abuse, my siblings and I attempted to get him help. Following a failed family intervention, he estranged himself from us for 20 years. Fortunately, we reconciled with our dear old dad and discovered an individual who survived a life more intriguing than any author could create in a fictional character.
Family legend includes descendants who were pirates in the Caribbean. Dad recalled a story of a relative who buried cash in his yard in Key West. A hurricane washed away the treasure.
He was born in 1931 and most of his immediate family died when he was very young. His earliest recollections are of a brief period when his life seemed good. My grandfather owned three very successful fish houses. In those days, Biscayne Bay waters were clear. Oftentimes, thick schools of fish covered so many acres that they darkened the water.
When he was about ten, my grandmother died from asthma. Following her unexpected death, Dad explained that his father's quick downward spiral and premature demise was because of his passion for "wagering, whiskey and women."
Next, he lived with his sister, Madgel. Sadly, she passed shortly thereafter from a bad blood transfusion. Dad lived with his brother, Jack, until he joined the Navy. Dad was then all alone to fend for himself.
Gambling became a vice as strong as alcohol for my father. His uncles were involved in the operation of the Cuban Lottery (sometimes referred to as Bolita). Wagers would pick the last two digits of the winning number of the Cuban National Lottery. Runners would take the tickets (all coded secretly to help protect the writers) to counting houses used to stash large amounts of cash. Winners were paid 70 to 1. Betting on the Cuban Lottery was illegal in the United States.
While his criminal involvement was minimal, Dad knew of Mafia-related incidences. Some were frightening. One funny tale included how an abandoned septic tank stored their "dirty money."
Eventually the IRS shut down the operation and seized their property. However, the adrenaline rush experienced while participating in an illegal operation became an intense addiction for Dad. He spent his entire life trying to beat the system.
Sandy Beach Hotel and Shell Shop in the Keys was one of his many business endeavors. He added buildings and moved walls without proper permits. Sometimes he received a fine, but mostly he got away with his shenanigans. Without permission, Dad opened the Grassy Key Chamber of Commerce. Of course, the Monroe County officials quickly closed that office.
My father does not purchase insurance of any kind. He would rather gamble. One bet he lost was when my mother spent 32 days in ICU (on life support) before she passed. Dad will never pay that enormous debt.
Dad is 78 and lives in a conservative middle-class neighborhood. While I am not a betting person, I would wager that anyone could identify his home. In front, a life-sized dolphin stands in his fishpond. The dolphin is dressed in Jimmy Buffet-like clothing with a beer can in his mouth. Rust-colored painted seashells frame the property. Broken toilets, used as planters, are scattered around the yard. Pet parrots squawk their greetings when you enter. A gas fireplace sits on the tropical screened porch. Three bars are ready for guests, hundreds of stuffed animals fill his home and signs from past parties are everywhere.
We tried to embrace his lifetime in one short vacation, which was impossible. If someone can write and publish "Almost Mafia," it will certainly become a best seller. §
Donna Bonnell is a freelance writer who moved to Newberry in 1983. She enjoys living and working in the town she now calls home. Donna@towerpublications.com
