John C. Belo Sr.

On behalf of my entire family I would like to thank all of you for joining us today in celebration of Dad’s long and fruitful life- a life of love extended, commitments kept, duty done and faith observed.

Dad was born in Pardelhas, Portugal just short of 93 years ago. He and his mother joined his father in America when he was eleven- just in time for the Great Depression. He had to drop out of school after only a few years to work to support his mother and sick father. His was a tough life for a young immigrant just learning the language and customs of his new country. He told us many stories of those days- how he kept pigeons and chickens; how he built a bicycle from parts scrounged at the town dump; and how a cop had shown up one day at his house to accuse his dog of killing some neighbor’s chickens. He truthfully told the cop that the dog had been with him all day but the cop pulled out his pistol and shot the dog right there in front of him. Can you imagine that happening today?

As a very young teenager he found himself working on Robert Moses’ Northern State Parkway on Long Island. The engineers liked to take long lunches at the nearest bar and so taught him how to use the surveyor’s transit to lay out the roadbed and put him in charge of men who were three times his age. The men grumbled about working for a kid but the engineers and Dad prevailed and he learned some valuable life lessons and skills that he would use when at nineteen he bought a used Mack dump truck and started his own small construction company.

Despite the Depression he got work and while doing a job on the estate of Colonel Jacob Rupert- owner of the Knickerbocker brewery and the NY Yankees- he was able to buy a 12 cylinder, 4 door black Lincoln convertible, from a young lady who he always said was Rupert’s daughter. I’ve subsequently learned that Rupert had no children so the mystery remains about who this young lady actually was.

Very early on he offered to give Mom a ride home from a baptism. She purposely left her gloves in the car so that he would have an excuse to see her again. He did not get the hint (a trait my wife says I inherited) and had her uncle return the gloves. Eventually common sense prevailed and they were married in 1942. Oh yes, there’s a wonderful honeymoon picture of them with the white-topped Lincoln on the sands of Virginia Beach.

Their first child, a girl, was still born after a full term. Dad always talked of how pretty she was with a full head of hair. Mom knows that they have been reunited by now. Shortly after that he got a call from his Uncle Sam that his services were needed. He was inducted into the army and was proudly sworn in as a citizen. Mom visited him in boot camp at Camp Croft. Georgia, where certain ceremonies were observed that resulted in your’s truly appearing on scene nine months later while dad was with the 45th Infantry Division, the famous Thunderbirds, embroiled in trying to wrest Italy from Adolph Hitler’s hands.

Dad made the landing in the seaborne invasion of Anzio and spent something like four months in the front lines of the beachhead under the German artillery high up in the surrounding Apennine Hills. On May 29th just a few days after I was born he was wounded near the Spaciassi Creek on a day that saw his battalion lose 149 killed, wounded and missing. After returning from the hospital, he was training for the invasion of southern France as a demolition man to blow up the seaside bunkers when a very little mosquito from the Pontine Marshes gave him a very big free pass in the form of malaria. From then on he was out of the infantry and finished the war as a medical aid in the general hospital as he endured the recurring bouts of malaria fever.

While at the hospital he got in trouble for giving food and clothing to the begging children.

I give you this wartime history because he was so proud that he was a member of what Tom Brokaw has called “The Greatest Generation” for their contributions and sacrifices in the Depression, the war and in building a post-war America.

Dad’s strength was a quiet one defined primarily by his ability to rise above the limitations of his early childhood and paltry education. He built a small but successful construction and investment real estate business and his handiwork can still be seen in Long Island if you know where to look. Once Bonnie and I were at the childhood home of one of her colleagues. I looked at the bluestone porch floor and told Bonnie that it was most certainly a John Belo job. I called Dad and told him where it was and who had owned it and sure enough he had built it. He was pleased but not surprised that it was still uncracked after 50 years. It’s a testament to the fact that he never had to advertise- all his jobs came from architects and referrals.

He didn’t play golf, though he caddied when he was a child. He didn’t play tennis or bridge. His leisure was fishing in Peconic Bay where he built his family two homes. He took us and any visiting friends and family members out whenever the weather cooperated and even when it did not. Our whole extended family has many happy memories of those days. So many fish were caught that Mom pleads with him to throw the fish back. His other significant leisure activity was always adding on, building an extension, a shed or a seawall- usually all by himself and only occasionally with some negligible help on my part.

He also loved cruises and treated us all to a Caribbean cruise on the occasion of their 60th wedding anniversary. It was a wonderful gesture and we all had a memorable voyage.

When he was about 70 and long after I had bought the Southampton house from Dad and Mom, he rebuilt the driveway retaining wall while I, who was supposed to provide major help, spent almost the entire time on the telephone trying to conclude the negotiations for some now all-but-forgotten real estate deal. Dad tore the old wall apart, mixed the mortar, rebedded the block, and replanted the ivy in just a matter of hours. I’ve got the only known video of Dad working there at his trade to prove it.

Just two years ago Mom was horrified to see him cutting the hedges at the height of the day's heat and he continually defied orders not to do anything like clean the pool or do landscaping. I think we all expected him to drown in the pool after yet another fall.

Some of you here had the benefit of his help or advice in projects around your home. At the end, when he no longer could do all that he wanted he was grateful for the help of Henry Cruz, Mom’s brother, with whom he shared a great and mutual affection and who was with him to the end.

His other leisure activity that he came to late in life was Rummikub. He played almost nightly with Aunt Ida, Mom’s sister, who he joked was his second wife in a non-Mormon kind of way. Mary Alice, Bonnie and his granddaughters- Michelle, Jenny and Caroline could be enticed into a game when they were visiting. One problem: he had to be closely watched because there was a touch of larceny in his heart. I think he may have enjoyed the larceny as much or even more than the game.

Because the war had such a profound effect on him and because he always remembered and honored those that did not come home I would like to honor him and all those others with a little paraphrasing of what Shakespeare has Henry V say to his troops before the battle of Agincourt.

From this day

to the end of the world,

we who fight today shall

be remembered,

We few, we happy

few, we band of brothers;

For he today

that sheds his blood with me

Shall be my brother;

So Dad, you have joined your Band of Brothers for the last bugle call and now await us all.

Obituary for Mr. Belo

John C. Belo, 92 of Cape Coral, FL passed away peacefully surrounded by his family on Monday, October 11, 2010. He was born on November 13, 1917 in Portugal to Arthur and Ermelinda Belo. Mr. Belo moved to Cape Coral over 30 years ago from Southampton, NY. He was a veteran of World War II serving with the U.S. Army, 45th Infantry Division in Italy, where he was awarded the Purple Heart. Mr. Belo was an Usher at St. Andrew Catholic Church for over 25 years, a member of the American Legion, and the Portuguese American Club SWFLA. He enjoyed traveling, fishing, gardening, going to dinner and shows. He was an accomplished builder who loved building things for his family.

He is survived by his loving family including his wife of 68 years, Alice Belo; children, John (Bonnie) Belo, Jr. of Manhattan, NY, Mary-Alice (Larry) DeSpain of Missouri City, TX; grandchildren, Caroline Belo, Michelle DeSpain, Jennifer (Freddy) Donovan; great grandchildren, Connor Donovan and Chloe Donovan; sisters-in-law, Ida Barilla, Mary Lou (Harvey) Price, Maria Cruz; brother- in- law, Henry (Rosemarie) Cruz.

Visitation will be from 7 to 9 pm on Wednesday, October 13th at Coral Ridge Funeral Home, 1630 SW Pine Island Rd., Cape Coral. The Mass of Christian Burial will be celebrated at 10 am on Thursday at St. Andrew Catholic Church, 2628 Del Prado Blvd., Cape Coral. Entombment with military honors will follow at Coral Ridge Cemetery, Cape Coral. Please visit www.coralridgefuneralhome.com to leave online thoughts and memories for John’s family. In lieu of flowers please make donations in his memory to the National Kidney Foundation of Florida, 1040 Woodcock Rd., Suite 119, Orlando, FL 32803 or to Hope Hospice, 2430 Diplomat Parkway, Cape Coral. Please join the family after the services for a Celebration Luncheon in his memory at Wine & Roses Italian Restaurant , 1404 Cape Coral Pkwy Cape Coral, FL 33904-9670, (239) 542-7177.

Arrangements under the direction of Coral Ridge Funeral Home & Cemetery, Cape Coral, FL.