Oh no, I can not write the telephone ripped out of the wall story ~ would take too long; would have to include what caused my father to blow a royal fit. Phone rang, I answer, brother's girlfriend asking what happened; father comes charging up the stairs, grabs the phone out of my hand and rips it out of the wall. He probably did a lot of yelling; he yelled all the time.Did he throw it across the room? I do not recall. Is that when he took Patti's radio tearing it to pieces looking for drugs?
The small radio was a reproduction of a Victrola phonograph complete with miniature horn. I felt bad about it being in pieces. Do not know if dad found it in my car or if I had brought it upstairs to my bedroom. She must have forgotten to take it when I dropped her off at her home the previous night.
My brother was sitting in a jail cell. Local news article stated: the car belonged to Mariano's sister. Or did it say "belongs"? I remember it saying "belonged" ~ duh, it still belonged to me the morning after the low speed car chase. I do not know what speed it was; Albany Street is a typical city four-lane road; small; driving the wrong way down a one-way streets, name forgotten, likely no longer exists, due to Johnson & Johnson's rebuilding that section of downtown.
Brother ends up driving through Douglas College campus, suddenly stops the car, jumps out and runs. I heard a gun shot; cop tells me to get out of the car; another cop tells me to stay in the car; I say: Make up your fucking mind. Most likely the first time I used that word. Oops, not nice to cuss the chief of police, especially since he has been friends with my father since they were little Italian immigrant children.
Actually I do not know if the chief was an immigrant; just that he and dad grew up together, did that one hand washes the other political game; nothing major, nothing serious. Son-in-law needs a job? Chief pulls some strings and he gets hired as a fireman. City needs a contractor, dad gets the job. Not sure what favors dad did for Petrone.
The chief visited us every New Years day ~ did not stay long ~ a shot of whiskey with dad than on his way to the next house. Some Italian custom. He probably visited other times; do not remember him bringing a wife or kids with him or any memory of him at all other than the NY's day shots and the lecture at the police station.