Remembering Alfred George Fortunato

Alfred George Fortunato, September 6, 1931 - October 2, 2013

Yesterday was the first anniversary of the passing of Alfred George Fortunato, my brother, my life-long best friend and trusted confidant.  

Al was born when I was only two. My memories of every phase of our lives has spanned a long lifetime for both of us. Growing up together as third generation Americans in a family culture that reflected our Italian-American heritage, alongside of neighbors, school and team mates, many of whom became lifetime friends, we were part of the early twentieth century products of the largest melting pot of diverse heritages, essentially European.  

Close in age, we and our late youngest brother, Vinnie, (aka Jimmy), served in the U.S. Army simultaneously and with pride during the Korean War in the 1950's.  Returning to civilian life each of us raised families, between us and our younger sister, Ann Marie Rumpke, presenting seventeen grandchildren to our parents, Mafalda and Jimmy Fortunato. 

It was not unusual in those times to have close sibling relationships even in our mature years. Now, through the lens of a lifetime, I see the uniquely special bond in a relationship beyond comparison in our lifetimes. Today, I treasure Al's and Jimmy's memory. Ann Marie refers to we two surviving siblings as the bookends of a family that grew up in an environment that cultivated great interest in the arts, music and in the literary world. 

Just a few year's ago, I realized that Al and I never had a personal quarrel. If, as in a few instances, we had differences in our thinking concerning public policy, it never, never became personal or affected our fundamentally sound relationship.  In fact, our approach to differences strengthened our mutual esteem and we always kept in sight that we had the same fundamental aspirations for humankind. That played a great part in our shared mutual respect, esteem and love for one another that never wavered.  

The last decade of my brother's life was filled with health issues. His discomfort and anxiety stretched the limits of pain in his final year, but he never gave up. Nor did he ever stop caring and loving his family, his friends and the joy of his work in his chosen profession of publishing serious non-fiction using skills that spanned the gamut of historian, researcher, editor, wordsmith, author and profound thinker.   

With a firm but gentle voice, Al's words were always spoken and written with an ever-mindful focus on compassion, especially for those who seemed to be left out in the pledge of 'liberty and justice for all'.

His greatest assets were his fine mind, his integrity and his empathy with all living things. Al's gift of intellect, insightful logic and simpatico nature were core components of the elegance of his character. 

Al Fortunato, Captain and Center Fielder
Erasmus Hall H.S. Brooklyn, NY c 1947

His departure was shattering for all of us: his loving wife, children and grandchildren, siblings, nieces, nephews, cousins and a legion of friends and associates in the literary world and his younger days of baseball.   

After a year, sorrow and mourning have given way to a personal healing process for me.  I describe it as having lived through an increasing personal propensity for quiet periods of contemplative spiritual time, reading and study which came to reflect on my thinking and writing. Consequently,  I find myself filled with a spiritual energy has renewed a sense of gratitude for the joy and love we've had in our lifetimes.  

One step beyond, I have witnessed an increasing sensory phenomenon in the past six months. My meditative reflections of past interactions with Al, and recently with my brother, Jimmy, as well, present a spiritual connection or communion with them of a nature previously unknown to me. 

For the doubtful, I am not asserting that I talk to them or to the Holy Spirit in a physical vocal sense. I hear no 'voices'. But my heart is filled and my spirit is warmed by a new sense of the presence of each of them as I reminisce to our relationships in the past. 
   
Closing thoughts: Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow is not here yet.  I live and love with both feet solidly grounded in the present while holding onto the wonderful memories and love of the past and my Christian beliefs in the future.

In His Spirit,

Ephraim Richard Fortunato