There is no getting around it. Growing up in a small town is the best beginning a person can experience.
I was born in a small coal mining community just across the river from Sutersville, PA., population less than 1,000. We lived in company housing until my father left the coal mines to work for U.S. Steel Corp. He also built a two-story house on top of Sutersville Hill on a piece of land he bought from my Uncle Ott, who was married to my mother's sister.
As a teenager growing up in Sutersville, I discovered there were two important people in town -- Popeye, the town cop, and Al Orsini, a bookie who ran a small convenience store.
Al was a cheerful man who attended the Catholic Church. He drove a late model Cadillac, gave generously to the Church, and had many friends at the Sutersville Moose Club, the Elks Club, and the American Legion. Many of them bet on the horse and dog races or baseball, football or basketball games. Al handled them all.
I didn't know Popeye's real name -- we just called him that as a nickname. He was a friendly fellow, very unlike most police officers who seem to exist to arrest or ticket people. Popeye was the kind of guy who would rather work out a problem then take a person to jail. That meant a lot of paperwork and the jail was several miles away in Belle Vernon. That made Popeye a very popular guy in our community.
Gambling was a daily activity in Sutersville. The town had weekly Bingo and Euchre parties at the Moose Club where my parents were members. A Euchre tournament would start promptly at 7 p.m. on weekends and my parents rarely missed the game. The players would accumulate points and the team with the most points would win the prize money.
Mom was a passionate player and she and my father made good partners. But if Dad made a mistake in his bidding, Mom could get all over him like a wet blanket. Euchre players love to argue and my parents perfected arguing to an art.
Al Orsini would sometimes come to the Moose Club on a Friday or Saturday night just to socialize with his players. My mother loved to bet on the horses running at Wheeling Downs or one of the other thoroughbred race tracks that Al handled.
Orsini wasn't above giving my mom a tip on a horse and his tips usually won. Mom was just a $2 bettor, so it didn't cost him much money to give away the insider information. He seemed pleased when Mom won and delighted in telling other Moose Club members, 'Dorothy is one of my best customers.'
Al even took bets from me even though I was just 17 years old. He justified it by saying, 'If a person is going to gamble, he's going to gamble. I don't want to lead you astray, but you're almost old enough to fight for your country, so I guess you're old enough to bet on the horses.'
Christmas was always a good time of year in Sutersville. That was when Al would give the Catholic Church a generous gift, one that would result in dozens of turkeys being delivered to poor families in the area.
The people knew where those turkeys were coming from and the Catholic Fathers praised Orsini for his generosity. They always welcomed him to the church with a smile and made sure he had a seat toward the front of the congregation.
Sometimes my parents would play Euchre at home with their friends. Dad's boss at the Irvin Works where he was employed was a Euchre player who loved my father's homemade wine. He and his wife would come over to our house on a Friday afternoon for an evening of Euchre and wine-sipping. Sometimes they would spend the night.
I remember Alvin, my dad's boss, waking up after an evening of drinking. It would be near noon and he would look at me and say, 'My Lord, your father's wine is potent. Do you realize I'm still drunk?'
My mother was suspicious of Alvin and his wife. They played Euchre by making small bets, anywhere from a quarter to a dollar per hand. One day she called my father aside and said, 'I think they're cheating.' When Dad asked how she knew, she said Alvin's wife would kick him when she had a good hand. Dad wanted to know how she had figured that out and Mom said, 'Once she kicked me by accident. It hurt.'
I was exasperated.
'Mom, if they're cheating, why do you play with them?' I asked. 'Why don't you just tell them to stay home?'
Mom gave me a shocked look. 'I couldn't do that,' she said. 'They're our friends.'
Author: Geno Lawrenzi Jr.
(Geno Lawrenzi Jr. is an international journalist, magazine author and ghostwriter and poker player who lives in Phoenx, AZ. He has published 2,000 articles in 50 magazines and 125 newspapers. If you want to share a gambling story or book idea with him, send an email to glawrenzi@gmail.com ).
