When your friend calls and somebody else’s voice is on the other end, it’s never good news,,,,,,

Years ago, several days a week my son and I would drop into the same Duncan Donuts on University Drive at approximately the same time. There was always a Shiny Red Car parked in the same spot next to the door. That red car was always shiny, clean and well taken care of even when the weather was bad and everybody else’s car showed the results. The owner was a man many years my senior. He would be sitting down with his favorite, which was an American hot coffee and a jelly filled donut. If there were no jelly donuts left, then he would order the little glazed donut holes. I would greet him with a hello and compliment him on the condition of that Shiny Red Car. He would smile and say, “Thank You”.

After many months, I approached him and asked if my son and I could join him for coffee, he said, “Yes, of course”.

That was the day I formally met my friend, Sal.

Sal was originally from Brooklyn, New York. Sal had a very interesting life. Sal would start off each conversation talking about his family. Sal’s wife had passed away years before, his children and grandchildren were the joy in his life. Sal was a Korean War veteran, though we talked about that war very little. Sal would educate me about a place I have always wanted to go, but never have, that is New York. He would talk to me about Coney Island during his youth. Sal had been currently living in South Florida for decades.

These coffee conversations with Sal lasted for years, then one day the Shiny Red Car was never seen again on the days I went to Duncan Donuts. After a few weeks I got worried and called him. It appears that the removal of the Shiny Red Car was a family decision. Sal was past his 90th year. I would call him on the holidays. My son suggested picking him up at home once a month to continue the conversations at a restaurant of his choice. We did this routine for a while.

This past Saturday my son asked where we would be taking Sal this month, I told him I had not decided and that I would call Sal this week to confirm.

Yesterday Sal called me, but the person on the other end of the cellphone was not Sal. It was Sal’s daughter. Sal passed away Thursday. Sal was 94 years old.

I know where Sal is at right now, they never run out of jelly donuts and there is a Shiny Red Car parked outside,,,,,,,,,

Saverio “Sal” Pagnotta

1930 to 2024

Thank you for reading,,,,,,,,,