He was the greatest man I ever knew.
He put food on the table every night. If there wasn’t enough, he wouldn’t eat.
He was a self-made man who loved his family more than anything. And told that to anyone within earshot.
He was raised in the Marvine section of Scranton as part of a group of tough, street smart teenagers who frequented Steinie’s Pizza and were called “The Black Eight.” He was the last surviving member of the group.
As a teenager, he once outraced a train to swoop up and save two little children he saw sitting on the tracks. He remembered the train razing his T-shirt. Another time he threw his leather jacket on a youth whose clothes caught fire. That youth later became known as Scranton’s Freaky Freddy.
He attended North Scranton Junior High School and at 14 became one of the youngest members of the 109th Infantry. He was a two-year Army veteran serving during the Korean War.
He met his future wife Ellen in a downtown shoe store. He told her he loved her in Polish. He attended barber school in Philadelphia after the couple married.
She was Greek and it was called “a mixed marriage,” but it lasted forever.
He was owner and operator of Stan’s Barber Shop for 25 years at several Green Ridge locations and sponsored a Pony League baseball team under the same name.
He then became a driver for the NEIU until retirement.
His second love after his family was his band. He was the leader of The Fabulous Fortunes for 80 years. A self-taught bass player, he switched to drums in 1970.
“Ace me in” was his classic line when he wanted a band job. And he was “aced in” for eight decades.
His first band job was at the current Maroni’s Pizza in West Side, originally a bar-restaurant, in 1946. His last job was this past New Year’s Eve at the Gino Merli Veterans Center in downtown Scranton. He was booked there for two more jobs, including this New Year’s Eve, upon his passing.
He and his band performed 80 consecutive New Year’s Eve jobs, including several with his grandson Ryan, also a self-taught musician. He and his grandson performed at the Bucktown Music Festival in Dunmore two years ago.
He was a proud member of the Scranton Musician Association. “Stan the Man” or “Stash” to his closest friends, he used Stan Savage as his band name.
His fellow bandmate Vince Parise always said, “Stan knows how to work the room.”
His 80 years in show business, included performing at numerous resorts in the Poconos, local wedding venues, country clubs, outdoor parks, church picnics, and fairs and night clubs.
The Poconos was his prime circuit. He and The Fabulous Fortunes performed at La Festa in downtown Scranton since its inception until just a few years ago. He was very proud of that.
He had countless stories about playing on “The Strip” in downtown Scranton and at every resort in the Poconos, “The Honeymoon Capital of the World.”
His playing career led him to meeting Louie Prima, The Ink Spots, The Drifters, The Four Freshman, Meadowlark Lemon, Curly Neal and Ed McMahon, who sat in with his band in the Poconos. He was close friends with Las Vegas comedian Pete Barbutti.
He and his band were invited to Nashville to perform and cut a record. His music was played there on numerous radio stations.
Proud of his street smarts, he was once cornered by a roughneck with a gun in Mexico and another with a knife in Kentucky during his army years, but intimidated the intruders by snatching the weapons and chasing them away. He was not afraid of anybody. “Just a couple squirrels I had to dance with. You gotta know how to take care of yourself.”
Despite his street smarts and toughness, his favorite saying was, “It’s nice to be nice.”
He proved that when his son’s 10-speed bike was stolen by a poor kid from the Marvine Patch. Instead of pressing charges, he bought the kid a bike.
As great of a dad he was, he was an even greater grandfather. He had five grandchildren and attended every single one of their sporting, music and school events. He made himself available to them at all times, at any cost. It was a role he cherished.
He missed his wife of 55 years, Ellen, after her passing 14 years ago. And he passed away this past August 20, the exact day of her passing. Mom was waiting for him. He loved his family deeply and fought hard to stay alive, as he didn’t want to leave them, but he was a religious man who prayed every night.
He will always be remembered by the love he had for his family and his 80 years in show business.
Six days before he passed away, John Paris, his longtime friend and former bandmate from the 1970s, came in from California to see him.
Dunmore’s Fran Burne, one of his closest friends and a bandmate from the 1960s, was also there.
He exchanged countless stories and old memories with his two musician friends for a couple hours. Those two hours were to be his final lucid moments.
Paris, in a kind and touching moment, spoke to him about death and dying. My dad mentioned for the first time that he thought he was dying.
Jack Mead, another close musician friend, visited the next day. The final four days brought no more lucid moments. My regret was there were no more lucid moments left to say goodbye.
My dad looked forward to reading The Dunmorean every month. He read every one of my stories for the past 37 years. Last month’s September issue was the first he was not here to read. It was an empty feeling.
My dad loved telling stories. There were times we would tell him it was a story we heard before. But we would give anything now to hear him tell one of those stories again.
There are tears streaming down my eyes as I finish this column. I miss him so much and wanted to say goodbye.
So this is my goodbye. Love you so much, Dad. You were the best dad in the world.
Hope you are reading this with Mom in Heaven.