At the Death of My brother Sal: 4/26/1994

Written by Patty (sister to Sal)

When I was standing in my kitchen in Albany and was told about Sal’s death that was incredibly hard but it was nothing compared to coming home to face all of the memories.It started as the Outerbridge Crossing came into sight..as I began to travel the same roads where as children Sal taught us to sing “Dixie” (loudly) in the back seat of the car, past the A&P where as a teenager he worked the produce department like  no one else ever had, as if he owned a pushcart on Mott street: past Our Lady Help of Christians School where he graced us all with a chorus of “Yes We Have No bananas” while playing on the bathroom pipes; to our kitchen table where all of our boyfriends had to sit and pass Sal’s black coffee test….and so many more memories…until finally, and hardest of all, I came to the room where he grew up. And on the door beneath the OX emblem was a sign in raised letters that he put up.as a teenager. It didn’t say what one might expect from a typical teenager but then Sal was NEVER typical. It didn’t say “keep out”, buzz off” or private property but rather very simply “SAL ERETTO LIVES HERE!”