Thomas Hunt

Some early childhood memories have been popping into my head with increasing frequency. Given the current situation, I guess that's to be expected. But these memories seem to be focused on family gatherings where, despite my young age and incredible cuteness, I was not a significant participant nor even entirely welcome. Prisco-Mangione kitchen during a meal. The gatherings, as best I can recall, occurred fairly often within cramped kitchens of a number of Bronx apartments after family meal times. The kitchens, with roughly the same dimensions as a large shoebox, included the usual sink, stove, fridge and cabinets, along with a steam-heat pipe or radiator, and a table engulfed by skinny chairs. Despite tight quarters, there always seemed to be plenty of room around the table for my parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, whoever happened to stop by. Somewhat miraculously, it seemed every adult human I knew in the world at that time could find a way to squeeze in around the ...

Patrick J. Hunt, 73, of Brookfield, CT, died Saturday evening, Aug. 30, at Danbury Hospital following a long illness. A devoted husband, father and grandfather, he is remembered for his genial nature and his hearty laugh. He was a member of the Knights of Columbus. His hobbies included golf, bowling, art, woodworking, crossword puzzles and stamp collecting. Patrick was born in New York City on March 8, 1941, the second child of the late Patrick and Mary (Foley) Hunt, immigrants from Ireland. As a boy, he traveled twice to Ireland in the company of his mother. He graduated in 1959 from Mount Saint Michael Academy in the Bronx, New York. He received a bachelor's degree in Math from Manhattan College in 1963. He and his childhood sweetheart, Concetta M. Prisco, were married at the Roman Catholic Church of St. Lucy in the Bronx on Jan. 26, 1963. He was a longtime resident of the Bronx and parishioner of the Church of St. Lucy, where he served as lector. He and his family subseq...

"...a man who took history in his hands and bent the arc of the moral universe toward justice..."

I've never been the sort to wish I was a different age. When I was 10, I genuinely liked being 10 and didn't want to be anything other than 10. If later years happened to come my way, I'd accept them, but I was in no rush to reach them. As I passed through my teens and into my twenties, I found reasons to enjoy those years too, but never really wished to stay in any of them longer than my allotted time. When I hit 30 and then 40, I experienced no yearning to go backwards to childhood or teenage or young adulthood. Been there, done that. (I am convinced, by the way, that those of later years who yearn to return to childhood, failed to truly experience childhood because they spent those early years wishing to be older. Just can't please some folks.) So, here is 50. I've heard many of my peers speak of the age with dread and quite a few with outright denial. Doesn't seem a bad number to me. In fact, I like 50. And with good reasons: - It's the numbe...

Almost anything can happen when two teams compete on a baseball diamond. And we saw much that was unexpected in the just-ended Red Sox-Cardinals World Series: improbable fielding errors, baserunning miscues, controversial calls by umpires, unbelievably strong pitching performances and some miraculous hitting. Perhaps the most surprising thing about the series is how unsurprising - even predictable - the end result was. The teams entered the postseason with identical 97-65 regular season records, and sportscasters constantly referred to the Red Sox and Cardinals as very similar in strength and as the best regular season teams in their respective leagues. As far as overall regular season records go, they were correct. However, there was a difference between the two that most failed to notice. Despite the fact that the World Series is an interleague competition, virtually no one discussed the teams' regular season interleague records. Or course, merely glancing at interleague wins...

Michael Tona and I just completed work on the two-volume historical biography, DiCarlo: Buffalo's First Family of Crime . Mafioso Joseph J. DiCarlo was once known as “the Al Capone of Buffalo” and as western New York's “Public Enemy No. 1.” DiCarlo - Vol. I Son of the region's first known Sicilian underworld boss, DiCarlo was rejected as heir to his father's criminal empire. After spending troubled years as a vassal of the influential Stefano Magaddino, DiCarlo and his underlings wandered, seeking their fortunes in Youngstown, Ohio, and Miami Beach, Florida, before returning home to witness the bloody disintegration of western New York's Mafia organization. Through the two volumes, DiCarlo's colorful and violent life story becomes a window into the history of the powerful Magaddino Crime Family and the American Mafia network. Volume I covers the period through 1937. Volume II focuses on the period 1938 to 1984 and includes an epilogue describing event...