Francesco "Frankie" Tarsitano

December 7, 1952April 6, 2018
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Francesco "Frankie" Tarsitano was born on December 7, 1952 and passed away on April 6, 2018.


  • Visitation Monday, April 16, 2018
  • Funeral Mass Tuesday, April 17, 2018
  • Committal Service Tuesday, April 17, 2018

Francesco "Frankie" Tarsitano

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Marc Migliaccio

April 26, 2018

I am extremely honored to speak on behalf of my Uncle Frank. Early in March before Franks cancer started to worsen, my brother Vince and I went to visit him. As soon as we walked in, Uncle Frank immediately looks at us and says,” Guys make yourself useful and go get me some danishes.” With Uncle Vince’s persmission we did just that bringing him back 6 of his favorite snack the TastyKake, KandyCake. The only reason I remember that is because Frank called Vince and I about 20 times at WaWa to make sure we brought back those exact ones. Once we got back to Franks room I spent the rest of the time we had playing our favorite music videos from the band he introduced me too and our all time favorite The Red Hot Chili Peppers. Not even two songs in, Frank looks at me and says,”Marc this is some dang good music.” I said no kidding Frankie T it’s because you showed me it.
Frankie was different than the rest of our family. He was energetic, outgoing, and the life of the party. He never wanted to be stuck in the house, even it was for 5 minutes he would ask if my brother and I wanted to take a ride just to get in the car and get a breath of fresh air. He always saw the good in everyone and made the best out of every situation always putting everyone else before him.
My uncle loved going to different places and meeting new people. He had a strong appreciation for culture and tried to learn as much as he could about each place he visited. Uncle Frank always made an effort to visit our family often. He cared about us a lot and never wanted to lose touch. Uncle Frank always had the best stories and would make you laugh no matter how down or how bad of a day you were having. No matter what Frank never wanted anyone to know he was suffering or feeling any pain in any scenario and to me that is the most respectable characteristic anyone could ever have. Thank you for showing me it is important to cherish every moment you because you never know when it could be the last.

Vince Tarsitano

April 26, 2018

Throughout your life, Frank, you were always able to come back from always landed on your feet. This latest adversity, though, was too big even for you.

No, we didn’t get the miracle we prayed so hard for: your full restoration and return home. But, as Luciana previously stated, there were some truly miraculous moments during these past difficult months...there were glimmers of hope we never let go of. It was a privilege to spend as many moments—night and day—as we could. What could we do to make you more comfortable? What research could we do to find answers, a remedy? How many discussions with—and prodding of—staff to make sure you were never ignored or neglected, to get you the level of service you deserved—or do it for you ourselves?

I am so proud of the champ and trooper you were throughout this journey. You handled the endless poking and prodding like a fighter. It became more and more difficult for you after your third chemo treatment, after such a promising start.

As brothers, we shared so much. In our youth, a bedroom, a bike. In adulthood, opinions about how the world should be. We were in sync about all the important issues. In retirement, I planned on spending so much time together. Yes, I do feel cheated by your death. It hurts and will continue to hurt. I will never stop missing you. But, I’ll always cherish the wonderful moments you gave me, the adventures that you made possible. I love you immensely, and look forward to our reunion when the time comes. In the meantime, we couldn’t ask for a better angel.

Luciana Migliaccio

April 26, 2018

Who could have predicted that I would be writing a tribute to my brother in 2018? Frankie had way too much life in him, too much left to do... too much life to live! Still numb, unable to express the disparity, the disbelief, how can it be that we will not have any more time to spend together?
Jeep week started in Daytona yesterday, and as I walked the beach I couldn’t help but remember the blast we had enjoying the festivities, parading his awesome Jeep and getting 10’s from the judges waving their signs and giving us the thumbs up as we drove by less than two years ago.
Never a dull moment growing up and growing older, and as my own family grew we never stopped being a part of each other’s lives.
The past five months that I had the privilege to spend with you, along with bro Vince, were difficult...but also sprinkled with miraculous moments. I held your hand until your last breath, something that will resonate with me for as long as I live...I know we will hold hands again ...and as you live free in your new place always looking down on your family here on earth know that we will be together again.
You will never be forgotten, your loving sister,

Lucille Tarsitano

April 25, 2018

Frank was my second cousin. My grandfather and his dad were brothers. My dad was only a few years younger then Frank's dad so we grew up together like first cousins. Frank and I had a special bond. He was more like a big brother to me. We had a lot in being gypsies ...never keeping still always thinking of the next trip or adventure. So happy for the memories and the love that we shared . I will miss you dearly but I'm happy there is no more suffering and that you can are free to roam once more. Love you will always be in my heart. Xoxo Cousin Lucille.

Frank Gigliotti

April 18, 2018

Frankie was a wonderful friend and family favorite .
I met Frankie when I was 8 years old . His family came here and settled across the street from us on Cottman Avenue . My Father taught his Father how to drive, His Uncle Frank was a personal friend of the family. I spent many days at the shoe shop with Frankie while he worked there. We both attended Our Lady Of Consolation grade school and Lincoln High.
Through the years and into adulthood we did many things together including jamming guitars with our close buddies Timmy , Jack, Larry, Joe and others. Frank and I drove his new Barracuda to Harrisburg to see Elton John and saw Paul Mc Cartney together at the the 90's. Frank was in my wedding in 1974 , Among other things Frankie liked was eating crabs at my house or Denardo's or Blue point and strolling along South Street and sipping coffee at Café Calabria. When he moved to Atlantic city with his family I spent many days nights there in the 80's with Frank. His house was always filled with music and friends like Jose and others. And I always had my own room to sleep. Whenever Frank was in Philly he always stopped by to see me and have dinner together and stay over.
In 2010 the gang got together for a short reunion and a crab dinner.That was our final get together and Franks last visit to my house in Franklinville NJ. He was a great guy and I loved him like a brother. Frank had many ups and downs in life like all of us but he always got back up and continued with a new venture. We all will miss his smile and his laugh which was also special.
All that's left to say is I love you buddy ,thanks for being in my life . Wish we could have seen each other again one last time.
Rock on Brother in the next world and enjoy the glory of God which I know you will do. your journeys are over my friend and there is no more suffering, Your now on Heavens bright shoreline with Christ our savior.
You made it.
Love Always ,
Frankie G

Frank Gigliotti

April 18, 2018

Victoriana Migliaccio

April 18, 2018

Grateful to have had 28 wonderful years with the most kind, loving, honest, & genuine person, whom I am lucky enough to call my Uncle. His spirit is eternal & our love for him endless. Thank you for the best memories.

Love always,

Enid Hogrobrooks

April 17, 2018

I worked with Frankie at Foxwoods and at Cherokee. He was a good man. My prayers are with you at this time of adversity

Joe & Veronica Olivieri

April 10, 2018

Aunt Lena, Uncle Vince, Vince & Luciana,

Please know that you are all in our thoughts and prayers at this most difficult time. We both have many fond memories of growing up with Frank and will always remember him as a loving and generous spirit. We hope you find comfort knowing that he is now in the hands of God and watching over all of you as you watched over him these last several months.

Our love to all,
Joe & Veronica

Susan Harris

April 10, 2018

I loved working with Frankie in Cherokee. He was a great supervisor and good guy. He always had a smile and joke for players. He always showed support for me while I was dealing. He always made my day better. Blessings to you Frankie. Prayers for your family.


The world lost a generous and independent spirit— and heaven gained one—when Frank transitioned on April 6, 2018, after having been an inpatient at various facilities since November 14, 2017, due to a recurrence of nasopharyngeal cancer. Frank was born on December 7, 1952, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and graduated from Abraham Lincoln High School, after which he obtained an associate’s degree and various other trade certificates.

For most of his adult life, Frank worked in casino management, beginning in Atlantic City, and including Connecticut, Delaware and North Carolina. Frank ran the first dealer’s school at Foxwoods Casino in Connecticut, and throughout his career, prepared hundreds to work as dealers. Frank had truly eclectic interests in music, art, travel, and food and beverage, and was talented at all building trades, making him a great handyman.

He is now an angel to his surviving, beloved parents, Vincenzo and Caroline Tarsitano, loving brother and sister Vincent and Luciana [Migliaccio], brother-in-law Richard Migliaccio, niece and nephews Victoriana, Vincent and Marc Anthony Migliaccio, various cousins, and hundreds of associates and friends in the casino industry.

He was a member of Epiphany Catholic Church in Port Orange, Florida, where he helped run the weekly bingo game. A viewing and celebration of his life will take place at Volusia Memorial Funeral Home, in Port Orange, Florida, on Monday, April 16 from 6 pm until 9 pm. Mass of Christian Burial will take place at Epiphany at 11 am, Tuesday, April 17, followed by burial at Volusia Memorial Park in Ormond Beach, Florida.


As brothers, Frank and I shared a lot. When we were kids, we shared a bedroom at the house on Cottman Avenue in Philly, into young adulthood. Some of the best memories were of sharing a train set—complete with a lit-up village on a platform—at Christmastime. The platform, with accompanying lights, houses, traffic signs, etc., was a gift from cousin Sammy Tarsitano, Frank’s godfather. The Lionel train set, a gift from mom and dad.

Frank’s namesake, dad’s eldest brother, and his wife, Aunt Jenny, regarded Frank as a grandchild, which caused a bit of jealousy among some of the family. Uncle Frank didn’t care. When Frank was a kid, and into his early teens, he spent the better part of most days helping his uncle in his shoe repair shop at the corner of Torresdale and Bleigh, on the street level of uncle’s house. Frank was good at every task he was assigned. We often laughed in recounting the story of when uncle was going to tend to his small vegetable garden in the front yard. He needed the three-pronged digging and plowing tool, and asked Frank to get it for him. The funny part was how uncle worded the request. “Hey, Frankie, go get me the ting on top of the ting in the back. Da one that look-a like dis.” [Uncle stuck his hand out with three fingers to illustrate what he was looking for.]

Indeed, one of the naughty joys we shared was repeating the broken English we heard every day. It often got us into trouble with mom and dad. We must have thought it was worth it, for we never learned our lesson.

I remember one evening, after mom and dad sent us up to bed, in the middle of an episode of The Outer Limits, around ‘64 or ‘65, Frank and I snuck back from our bedroom to the top of the stairs. We could see the TV from there and finish watching the scary show. This went undetected by our parents, who surely would have protested if they had caught us.

Often, during the summer, Uncle Frank would take his nephew with him to his house on Fairmount Avenue in Atlantic City. I don’t remember being jealous about this, but it did take my brother away from me a lot. During these years, because we each had a different set of friends, we spend a good deal of time apart, even though we still shared a bedroom.

In ‘74, he brought home a kitten, a few weeks old, sand-colored with red rings on its tail. He said he found it on his boat. Bruno. The cat, not the boat. I raised him into adulthood. The cat, not Frank.

On Labor Day of that year, Frank invited me to go for a cruise on the Delaware in the little rickety boat. After fueling the boat, we took off from a point well north of the Tacony Palmyra bridge and traveled southward to the Walt Whitman Bridge. Along the way, the motor conked out a couple of times, but we were able to start it up without a problem. On the way back, I recall that we were somewhere north of the Tacony bridge when the motor conked out and would not start up. As we were not yet at the docking destination, we had to get ourselves to shore. Frank found a small oar and proceeded to row us toward shore. But, after a few strokes, the oar slipped out of Frank’s hands into the river, and got away from us. He gave the order for me to get into the river and retrieve it. I reluctantly agreed, hanging onto the boat and expecting to be immersed. Thank goodness that the water was only knee-deep! We got the boat to shore in short order.

We were thrilled when casinos were approved for Atlantic City. Our beloved tourist town desperately needed a shot in the arm. In 1978, Frank was the first in the family to get hired at Resorts International, the first casino. He was bartending at the Rendezvous Lounge on opening day. Frank paved the way for the rest of us in this exciting industry. He remained in the field, in casino management, for most of his life. Atlantic City got its shot in the arm, big time.

He and I shared a business, a mobile deejay music service, as a sideline, from the mid-eighties to the early nineties, out of Atlantic City. On this venture, he gave me full reign, as I was in my element.

Frank and I helped expand each other’s musical horizons. In common, we loved Ennio Morricone, Steely Dan, Lucio Dalla, who wrote the international hit “Caruso.” We went to Manhattan, to see Donald Fagen of Steely Dan, among others, in a show at the Beacon Theater. We saw Anthony Quinn live in Zorba and Kathleen Turner and Charles Durning in Cat on A Hot Tin Roof.

As a kid, Frank got music lessons. His first instrument was the accordion. I couldn’t see Frank sticking with that. Sure enough, he later moved on to bass guitar, and then electric guitar. I thought it was odd, that, even when practicing with a band, I never heard a song played all-the-way-through. That was Frank, too. Maybe the Sagittarius in him. As an adult, Frank always had an acoustic guitar handy. Again, never an entire tune played all-the-way-through, to the best of my recollection.

In the past few years, Frank only wanted to see those big action movie spectacles in the theater. Not that he didn’t appreciate a good drama. It’s just that he preferred to see those on the small screen. I always enjoyed the experience, even if the movie was a stinker.

Our travels included a month-long, top to bottom Italy trip in ‘84, with our sister Luciana and great friend Annalisa, that ended in my parents’ hometown of Roggiano in Calabria. So many beautiful moments with my Zia Sarina and grandmom. Photographer Frank chronicled the entire adventure. (I got him to do a photographic “study” of the bridges of Venice.) He also booked a trip for us to St. Maarten in ‘86. We fell in love with that island. Frank later worked on a cruise ship, where he got to explore several other Caribbean islands. He gave me a full report on the merits of each one. Later, he worked on a cruise line in Northern Europe, and took beautiful photos there, especially in St. Petersburg, Russia.

We both left Atlantic City in 1991. Me to Florida, and Frank to Connecticut. He was hired at the first U.S. casino outside Las Vegas and Atlantic City, Foxwoods. Casino supervisor was his main job, but he also ran their dealer’s school. Frank invited me up for a weekend just weeks before I moved to Florida. My first time in New England, thanks to Frank.

In 2013, Frank got hired at Harrah’s Casino on the Cherokee reservation in western North Carolina, in the Blue Ridge Mountains. I took mom and dad in August of 2013 and April of 2014, and my nephew Marc in 2015. The mountains have always inspired me. And, I finally got to see Asheville. Frank made that possible. He was thrilled to have us there. The feeling was mutual.

Frank was very talented in most of the building trades, too. I helped him on so many remodeling projects at our homes in Atlantic City. My role involved handing him tools, tiles, two-by-fours, sheet rock, etc. He was the mastermind. He could visualize the outcome. Frank built our pool bathroom in Port Orange. In Atlantic City, I was amazed to watch him tile his new kitchen floor. He used eight inch white tiles, with small black tiles to go in the corners of each of the white ones. He laid everything out ahead of time. This was tricky for anyone, even with experience, to lay them down diagonally, including going around the kitchen island, and having everything match. But Frank got it down, perfectly.

And then there was food. Cooking, sampling, discovering. Sushi, bird’s nest soup, Pho, Thai. Frank absolutely delighted in bringing his delectable discoveries home, and in creating so many of his own. We delighted, as well, except for the stinky cheese he loved. I am especially grateful that he introduced me to sushi, at Hikaru on South Street in Philadelphia, in 1984. We were foodie pioneers.

Three of our deejay gigs were for the Korean-American Wives Association of Southern New Jersey, with which Frank hooked us up. It was the annual Mother’s Day dinner dance, which the group used to raise funds to help Korean immigrants get started when they came to the U.S. There were mountains of food on the buffet tables. We were encouraged to get our fill, and then some. Korean food is delectable and satisfying. A couple of highlights from these gigs: the mother/son dance, where each would circle the other back-to-back, ever so slowly, as if in a trance. And then the prize drawings...which taught us how to say numbers in Korean. Frank and I laughed as we repeated the winning numbers in Korean with the host.

There is no doubt that Frank made the most of life, took the best from life, ate life. Lived authentically. Whether it involved work, friendship, family, food, music, travel and reading. I made a vow to start reading Jose Saramago, his favorite author.

I know that Frank is enjoying his reunion with his buddies, cousins, aunts, uncles and grandmother, and will wait impatiently, as is typical for him, for the rest of us. When it happens, it will be sweet. That’s after he straightens everything out up there, and clears the path for us. [Frank, is that why you got up there first?]

In life, Frank showed me that you don’t have to be a people-pleaser for people to like you. Everybody liked Frank. Franks for the memories! They, and your loving spirit, will stay with me always.