60 people I remember at 60

I just turned 60 today. How the hell I made it through six decades is completely baffling. But I did it.

So what does turning 60 mean?

It allows me to look back at a long, long life. And to remark and remember that in those 60 years, I’ve crossed paths with so many people. Some were longtime acquaintances, some probably didn’t know me from Adam. But all of them – in one way or another – guided me on this six-decade journey, for better or for worse.

I’d like you to meet all 60 of them in today’s blog post.

And no, this will not include people who are still alive. We’re still sharing those journeys, and there’s more tales to tell as we go forward in time.

#60 – Brother Mark Lull, a man of the cloth at St. Thomas the Apostle Church in Delmar. At the time, I went through a very difficult home life, and I was not in a very good frame of mind. Brother Mark explained to me that things will get better, and that I have to have a mix of faith and determination to make that all happen. To never ever give up. And to always believe in yourself. Thank you, Brother mark.

#59 – Russell Blackwood. A professor at Hamilton College and a true mentor, a gifted educator and someone who truly understood the struggles of a knuckleheaded kid who had no business being a student there, and helping me understand why I belonged there.

#58 – Danny Ray. A simple act of unexpected kindness by the legendary “cape man” for The Godfather of Soul, James Brown, when I needed it most, was a blessing. Just before an interview with Mr. Brown, my audio recorder’s batteries failed. Danny Ray, without saying a word, pulled out a fresh pack of AA’s from his suitcase, and saved the interview, which became a Goldmine cover story. In that instance, he showed that a kind gesture goes a long way in life. God bless you, Danny Ray.

#57 – Brad Delp. While working on my first-ever cover story on the band Boston for Goldmine, I only expected to talk to the lead singer for a few moments. We talked for two hours, he answered every question with charm and humor – even the ones he must have heard over and over every single day for the last few decades. He made a nervous writer feel calm and at ease, and helped me to create a killer cover story.

#56 – Ryan West. How do you pack all those adventures into such a short life? Trivia host, internet projects, and not one person ever had anything even remotely bad to say about you. Such a good friend and great personality. Also, fuck cancer.

#55 – Mark Klein. A gentle soul, family man and beloved by everyone, a great person and an electronics whiz. To know him was to appreciate him.

#54 – Ruth Wallis. An amazing cabaret singer and parodist, with the brightest look on life. And who out there wouldn’t like to own the cutest little dinghy in the Navy?

#53 – Lieutenant Ed DiGiannantonio. He served in World War II and was part of an organization that produced V-Discs, phonograph records specifically designed for shipment to the Army and Navy overseas. I think of him and his service, both to his nation and to the history of music.

#52 – Gerald Mommer. Mommer was the editor of Hockey Ink!, a minor league hockey newspaper that, for a few years, allowed me to write for them. Sure, I got my feet wet in doing so, and I made my mistakes along the way, but Gerry always encouraged me to do my best and never let failure define me.

#51 – Elaine Miller. My father’s third wife (he had four). I lived with my father and his third wife from July 1978 to November 1978, and it was a psychological hellscape. I learned that her superiority complex will only make you bitter in the end, and that no matter how “book smart” you are, no amount of book smarts will save you if you have a black, diseased heart.

#50 – Ken Screven. If you only knew him from those WRGB reporter stints, you never got to truly know Ken Screven. A man who was never afraid to speak for the truth. He was a true voice against homophobia and racism in the Capital District, and never minced words on the subject. The world is much brighter because he was here. The world is dimmer now that he’s passed on.

#49: Avram Pock. Mr. Pock was the longtime owner and proprietor at Blue Note Record Shop in Albany, and the first 45 I ever bought with my own money (that didn’t say “Disney” or “Cricket” on the label) was Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” at his store. I purchased many records from Mr. Pock (and later from his son) over the years. He taught me both the joy of music and the kindness of sharing. And he always had a smile. May his memory ALWAYS be a blessing.

#48: Big Dave Williams. The man was built like a truck. Chuck Norris feared Big Dave. He was officially a hall monitor and peace officer at my high school, Street Academy. But all of us knew he was more than that. He was a confidant, protector, and ally whenever we needed it. He was a protector of the defenseless, an advocate for the silent. Much respect and love, Big Dave.

#47 – Pat DeWolfe. One of my long-time blog readers and a really wonderful person, a beloved wife, mother and grandmother who always found love in her family and in her home. I don’t want to think of her as being “gone.” I think of her as participating in a new journey.

#46 – John Strickland. If you’ve never experienced the pure joy of basketball, it’s only because you never met John Strickland. A barrel-chested mass of a center, who enjoyed playing the game and playfully jabbing at his opponents. I knew him when he played for the Albany Patroons, I remembered him with the Halifax Rainmen. And anyone who can get a shout-out in a Jay-Z song is tops in my book.

#45: Benjamin Miller. My paternal grandfather. I have very few memories of him, except for the times he took me to the Franklin Park Zoo in Boston and showed me the wonders of the animal kingdom (and let me drink from each of the four spigots at the connected water fountain). The few memories I have of him are those I will cherish forever.

#44 – Peter Danziger. I worked with this attorney at my day job for many, many years. He taught me that preparation and diligence are the hallmarks of any completed project. Although I didn’t understand it at the time, all the work I did on his projects and cases eventually led to successful outcomes for the clients. Even when you’re not teaching someone, you really do teach them.

#43 – a teacher in my fourth grade class at Patrick F. Lyndon Elementary School in West Roxbury, Massachusetts. It was from her that I learned about why education is conditioned on who educates you – as I had learned something in my previous school the year before (in another state) and when I received a failing mark for requiting what I had learned, I was asked, point blank, “Are you trying to tell me, young man, that you are right and the books in this class are wrong?” As if I had been some petulant whelp who didn’t follow her rote lessons. It’s the same reason I have disgust for those organizations that try to ban books or restrict what kids can learn. Let us learn everything, the good and the bad, so long as it is true. Don’t cloud education with your own personal beliefs and with geographically-designated textbooks that are different for various locales.

#42 – Douglas Adams. A man who proved that science fiction and comedy could successfully intertwine. And that we could all make our journey through the world so long as we had a towel and the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe and everything. There were many days at Hamilton College where I felt emotionally wrecked … and reading his books helped me get through the most painful moments.

#41 – Robert Miller. I will always remember my father’s most famous piece of advice to me. “If abortion were legal in 1963, you wouldn’t have ruined my life.” Thanks, Dad. You may have never physically hit me (to my knowledge), but your emotional slashes caused more than enough trauma.

#40 – Dan Claps. One of the greatest lawmen of the Capital Region, during his time as the local sheriff, not one criminal ever got away. Of course, by “local sheriff,” I mean Ghost Town, and by “Dan Claps,” I mean the name all of us knew him by, Sheriff Wild Windy Bill McKay. If you went to Storytown in Lake George (later the Great Escape) and you didn’t receive a junior deputy badge from him after one of the staged shootouts at Ghost Town, your trip wasn’t complete.

#39 – Art Clokey. His television animation studio created two of the greatest children’s programs of my generation – the surreal shape-shifting Gumby, and the reverent adventures of a boy and his dog, Davey and Goliath. I had the great pleasure of interviewing Mr. Clokey for Animato! Magazine many years ago, and through the interview he shared everything from his animation techniques to his metaphysical concepts of the world. Truly eye-opening and incredible.

#38 – Bruno Sammartino. I met the Living Legend of Professional Wrestling once – I was freelancing for a toy collector magazine and was working on an article on wrestling action figures, which eventually allowed me to attend a wrestling convention in Pennsylvania. Gotta tell you … he was an absolute calming presence to a reporter who was two seconds away from “marking out” over meeting one of his childhood heroes. Great interview, and a cool picture of us afterwards. A living legend in every sense of the word.

#37 – Marc Hunter. 40 years ago, I discovered the rock band Dragon and immediately became a fan. Their song “Rain” had just been released, and I treasured that import 45 like it was gold. Later blessed to interview the band for Goldmine magazine. Marc Hunter was the original lead singer of the group, as charismatic and energetic as one would want as a rock band frontman. 44 years and he lived every moment of that time as if it were his only day on Earth. Thank you for all the great music, Marc. Oh, and fuck cancer.

#36 – Irene Cooper. During a dark time when I was in-between jobs in the 1980’s, Irene Cooper of the Knickerbocker Employment Agency helped me find steady employment and to not worry about the economy. And she was also a great sounding board when I felt completely out of sync with the world.

#35 – Doris Robinson. A gifted librarian over at Russell Sage College, she was also my mother-in-law for many years. A kind person who enjoyed life and travel and family.

#34 – Nicole Bass. I remember meeting the bodybuilder and professional wrestler once at a pro wrestling convention. The auditorium was packed to overflowing, it was incredibly humid and hot inside the room, and I could see Ms. Bass was at one of the autograph tables and was in a terrible mood. For some reason, I knew it wasn’t because of the fans or the convention itself … and I had a hunch. I squeezed my way out of the auditorium and ran to the dining area, purchased a turkey sandwich and some orange juice, and brought it back into the convention hall and gave it to Ms. Bass. Apparently she was having a diabetic crash, and the orange juice helped keep her from going into a bad health situation. Immediately she went from grumpy to smiling and kind and friendly. We talked for a few moments, then that was it. But it always reminded me that some people can be in a crisis and you might not know. In those situations, you should help out every time and make our journey on this earth better.

#33 – Giorgio Chinaglia. Long before the days of Lionel Messi and David Beckham, truly the greatest soccer team I ever watched was the great New York Cosmos. And while Pele was their most recognizable name, for some reason I gravitated towards the OTHER striker on the pitch, the Italian legend Giorgio Chinaglia. Go find some video of him on YouTube. You’ll fall in love with his on-the-pitch artistry as well.

#32 – Franco Harris. In 1972, I watched the game that made me a lifelong Pittsburgh Steelers fan – the legendary “Immaculate Reception” contest. You know that catch was legal, you know he caught it off his shoetops, and you know that six Super Bowls came from that single catch. Rest in power, legend. Double Yoi.

#31 – Stacy Davis. One of the sweetest people in the whole wide world. Still miss you to this day.

#30 – Fletcher Knebel. The author of the Cold War thriller Seven Days in May was actually my first ex-wife’s uncle. And my ex at the time thought it might be a great idea to send one of my short stories to him for his opinions on whether I would be a successful writer. He responded back with notes saying I was a terrible writer, that I should never consider that as a career, and that whoever taught me how to write should lose their teaching licenses. Let’s see. Four published books (two fiction, two anthologies), a long successful writing career, and I’m still here and he isn’t. QED.

#29 – Rich Mahady. “Trivia Rich,” the anchor of the Albany-based trivia team Lynch’s Mob. And the day he left Lynch’s Mob and moved over to my Street Academy trivia team was a seismic shock in the world of local competitive bar trivia. The man was a sponge of knowledge. An amazing man.

#28 – Keith Stephenson. He was the bass player better known as Cheese Blotto in the band of the same name. Have fun with what you do, and enjoy every sunrise. Trust me on this.

#27 – Greg Haymes. A man of many, many talents – writer, columnist, editor, creator, band frontman, and many, many more. Take the time in your life to try something new every day. That’s what Greg did.

#26 – Joseph Motto. Well, nobody really knew him by that nickname. Instead, they knew him as Boom Boom Brannigan, the legend of Albany Top 40 radio. When I received my first radio as a kid, I tuned it to WPTR and enjoyed Boom Boom’s show. So much so, in fact, that he inspired me to consider a radio career. Which, from time to time, I actually achieved. Much thanks and great respect for the legend.

#25 – John Bailey. My stepfather. As Bette Davis once said, “You should only speak good of the dead. That person is dead. And that’s good.”

#24 – Sam Carey. Sam was a good basketball player, I saw him with several teams in the Premier Basketball League and in the National Basketball League of Canada. He was also featured in one of my first award-winning action photo shots. Sam Carey’s spirit still exists in minor league sports today, and more than ten years later, he’s still missed by his friends and fans.

#23 – Doug Dickinson. Doug was the original statistician for the Albany Patroons during the 1980’s and early 1990’s. It was from him that I learned the true commitment to stats and details, and the joy of calculating figures to prove that this player is X number away from a team record in rebounds, or that player is Y number away from breaking a franchise scoring total.

#22 – Cynthia Smetana. Sometimes people come into your life for years and years, other times it’s only for a short while. Cindy was a wonderful person with a glowing heart and a sly sense of humor and mischief. And in the short time I knew her, she was amazing. Also, fuck cancer.

#21 – Terry Blunt. Terry was a college classmate of mine, a good person with a great heart. He was also the son of one of the college employees, so like me, he grew up understanding hard work and value. I wish more people knew Terry Blunt. I really do.

#20 – Doris Robinson (nee Ginsburg). Many students at Russell Sage knew her as a kind and wise librarian. I knew her as a gentle and funny mother-in-law who enjoyed her family, enjoyed travel and enjoyed her faith.

#19 – Dolores Bragg, later Carkner, later Miller. The relationship I had with my Aunt Dolores was – in a word – complicated. And I’ll just leave it at that.

#18 – Ahmed Naqi. The long-time mathematics teacher at my high school, someone who, like everyone else in that school, treated the students as more than just classroom content. He really cared about us and made sure we could grasp everything and want to learn more in the process. Gingo La Tresh. Rest in Power.

#17 – Laurie Springer Brandon. I only worked with her for a short time – maybe a few years, tops – but she definitely influenced and left her mark on everyone within her circle of orbit. Again … I can’t say this enough … fuck cancer.

#16 – Ronnie Spector. One of my favorite cover story interviews from Goldmine magazine, not only did we talk for what felt like hours on every single subject in her life … but later on, during one of her “Christmas in New York” concerts, after the show she hugged me like a long-lost friend. It’s a memory I will always treasure.

#15 – Anthony Clement. The last principal of Harriet Gibbons High School (the former Street Academy) kept that school going for as long as he could, until the Albany City School District effectively kneecapped the school. Today, however, his legacy lives on in the Tony Clement School for Excellence, the new alternative school in the Capital District. Power and respect, good sir.

#14 – Reggie Poulin, Sr. A man whose gift in life was to provide happiness for his family and friends. I barely knew him for two years. I wish it had been longer.

#13 – E. Michael Ruberti. He was a local attorney who imparted a very distinct piece of wisdom upon my brain. No matter what job you do, the most important person in your job is the client. The client does not care if your morning coffee was cold. The client does not care if your car works or not. If you can do your job to the best of your ability so that the client gets the services he or she needs, then you’ll be successfully employed for the rest of your life. Words to always remember. Oh yeah, and if I haven’t said it recently … fuck cancer.

#12 – Casey Kasem. The legendary host of American Top 40, the voice of countless animated characters, and one of my first successful interviews for Goldmine magazine. We talked about lots of topics – everything from anecdotes from American Top 40 (yes, even the outtakes) and his work with Hanna-Barbera voicing everybody from Robin the Boy Wonder to Shaggy from Scooby-Doo. I couldn’t have kept my feet on the ground and reached for the stars it if hadn’t been for you.

#11 – Warren Wright. Back in the days when public speaking classes at Hamilton College were considered mandatory requirements for graduation, Warren Wright turned students like me from saying um and er and uh and yknowwutimean and crafted us into men and women of intelligent voices. And for the wisdom he impounded on me, I will remain forever grateful.

#10 – Anna Sharaf. She was my great-grandmother on my father’s side, and I knew her for many years as she lived with my Grandma Betty. I always remember that she spoke Yiddish around the house – partially because she was more comfortable speaking in Yiddish than in English, and also because there were times she didn’t want me to know about something and so she told my Grandma Betty in Yididsh so I would not figure it out.

#9 – Gordie Howe. I met the legendary hockey player twice in my lifetime – once when he was part of a promotion with the Capital District Islanders (he was there with the actors who played the Hanson Brothers in Slap Shot), and once at a hockey convention. A man with plenty of stories, plenty of battles, and a ton of energy.

#8 – Allen Miller. He should have grown old with me. We would have had so many adventures together. Every second in my life now is precious because our world can disappear in an instant, and not because of anything we choose.

#7 – Joe Hennessy. In the early 90s, he was the broadcasting voice of the Albany Patroons, the Albany Firebirds and at least three other local sports squads. His love of Capital Region pro sports inspired me to support the local minor league teams just as strongly.

#6 – Sister MaryEllen Harmon. Through her partnership with Albany’s chapter of the Urban League, in 1970 Sister MaryEllen Harmon was the founder and original first principal of the Street Academy of Albany, the local alternative school that, a decade later, saved my life and helped me go from a future of despair to a straight-up future. Every graduate of Street Academy and its successor Harriet Gibbons High School is because of her.

#5 – Orest Hrynwak. The long-time Rochester radio personality known as “Captain Cash” was also a devout basketball fan and proud owner of the Rochester RazorSharks. Friendly, gregarious and always willing to help his team compete in a highly saturated sports market. He lived every moment as if tomorrow wasn’t promised, and in that he lived an incredible life.

#4 – Frank Staucet. Staucet played for the Albany Senators minor league baseball team in the 1940’s; he would later be my first interview in an article about Albany pitcher Orie Arntzen, who in 1949 went 25-2 and was named Minor League Player of the Year. That article on Arntzen would later appear in the 1991 Albany-Colonie Yankees yearbook, and started my professional writing adventures.

#3 – Myles Knebel. A brother-in-law who believed in healthy farm life and clean living. I still can’t believe his time on Earth was so short. His legacy still lives in his community today.

#2 – Bonnie Diefendorf. I would never have a writing career without my high school English and literature teacher, Bonnie Diefendorf, who told me to NEVER settle for “just good enough.” Every published word from my mind came from your support.

#1 – Betty Miller. Also known as Grandma Betty. The one person who saved me when my parents were too toxic; who believed in me when I thought no one else did. If there was such a thing as a Jewish saint, she was it. Truth.

And there you have it. Sixty people that I remember on this, my 60th birthday. 60 people who were part of my life at one time or another … and are now here in spirit only. But without them – for good or for bad – I would not be the person I am today.

Still here.

And ready for another run of photos and holiday trains and eclipses and Competition Seasons and trivia and blogging and Albany Patroons and Pittsburgh Steelers and every other interest that makes Chuck Miller the one Chuck Miller he can be.

Let’s do this. 60 years … and another day.