Lino A Brusa

My dear Dad Lino passed away quietly at 2:30AM on August 11. He was the best Dad a son could ask for and a totally devoted husband to his wife of 68 years, Eda. I need look no further for a hero or role model than my own Dad.

His journey started in Italy where he was born in 1923 and lived with his parents and older brother, Aldo. His father passed away very early in his life and his mother traveled to America seeking work. Lino and Aldo lived on a farm with their grandparents in Vicenza. His mother remarried in America and then sent for her two sons. Lino arrived at Ellis Island at the age of 13. He and his brother left school at a very young age in order to work to help the family through The Depression. Initially a plasterer, Lino also taught himself the welding trade. He was drafted into the army in 1943 and sent to fight in Europe. His tour of duty took him from the shores of Omaha Beach, through France and Belgium, and finally to Germany. He was discharged in 1946 and returned home to New York City. Lino continued to work as a plasterer and part time welder. He became a New York City civil servant and repaired the aging network of city hospitals in all areas of general masonry. He remained in that capacity for 25 years until his retirement.

Lino married Eda in 1947. I am Ronald, the youngest of their two sons. Their oldest, Richard, was a highly decorated Nassau County homicide detective. He passed away suddenly at the age of 59. Lino was not only a wonderful father to my brother and I, but also to his two daughters-in-law who in return showed him great love and respect. Richard gave him two grandsons, Richard and Jonathan, and he cherished his time with them as they did with him.

Shortly after retirement, Lino and Eda moved to Florida. That's pretty much the normal path for most retired NY Italians. They traveled and cruised to various places. They enjoyed the retired life to the fullest. They lived there for 27 years before moving out to California to be closer to me. Here they lived in San Marcos for 2 years before his passing. He loved my mother's cooking and there was really no restaurant that could match it. Although he enjoyed dining out, there were very few times the food would pass the "Eda comparison test". He also enjoyed red wine, preferably the type that would coat the glass purple and do God knows what to your stomach. The price of the wine meant nothing to him, only the "full body flavor" mattered. For many years, the gallon jug of Gallo Chianti was his favorite.

All those who got to know him found him to be kind, extremely generous and with a great sense of humor. He loved to hear and tell a good joke, and entertained people with stories of his youth. When he was having problems with the gout several years ago, the doctor told him to cut back to one glass of wine a day. To me he responded "I'll get a bigger glass". He was always the first one to offer a neighbor or family member help with a home project, but the last one to ask for help. As my brother and I found out, when he wanted us to work on something with him, that meant starting by 7AM and not 9AM which he considered the "middle of the day". He worked hard, sometimes at two jobs, so that my brother and I had the opportunity to obtain college degrees. But he was smarter than us in so many ways. He could do just about anything from fixing a toaster to building a house, and he showed us how to treat others with respect. His hands were rough to the touch from years working with plaster and cement, but he was the most gentle person I ever knew. He enjoyed baseball and spent countless hours with my brother and I at the park. He'd pitch to us with a cigar in the corner of his mouth and laugh as we swung and missed at his goofy knuckleballs.

I will miss him every day...my father, my teacher, my friend. I hope the memories of his full life will fill the void left by his passing for both me and others who loved him. I know he'd want us to celebrate his life and not mourn for him. So please, the next time you have a glass of wine, raise it in the air and say "Salute!". He'll be raising his "bigger glass" with you.