I met my father-in-law the summer before Mike and I were married. He was short in stature, perhaps 5′. I was a guest in their home for a few weeks that summer. He was a difficult man to fathom, yet a generous man. He wanted to re-cut two ladies suits for me when we visited his tailor shop. I was rather embarrassed since I was not yet officially engaged to his son. I had been taught that a young lady did not accept expensive gifts unless it was from her fiance or husband. What a snippy dummy I was. I certainly didn’t make a friend that day!
Pop Martini was a tailor as were many Italian immigrants. In 1948 he shared a tailor business with his cousin, Joe Fuschetti. They also shared many a bottle of liquor at the shop on Sunday mornings. This tailor shop was across and down the street from what is now Beverly Center.
Pop Martini was a difficult man to understand. I have mentioned his waiting for a grandson to be born but still loving his granddaughters. A strange memory of Pop was the every Sunday dinner at their house on 6211 Maryland Drive, LA. If we were a little bit late Pop would be pacing back & forth with his shorts below his pot belly, no shirt… or just working on his beautiful garden and waiting. At dinner time he’d go to the garage where he kept a large keg of red wine bought in Cucamonga. He’d turn the spigot and fill a gallon jug. This was the dinner wine. It ended up the next day as salad vinegar. Always, dinner consisted first of a large platter of pasta, followed by dinner, sourdough bread, and salad came last. Fruit, cheese and dessert were pluses. Our children would be admonished to “Mange , Mange” (eat, eat!) When we left we were provided with almost a week’s food to take home.
Another memory: Pop enjoyed taking the grandchildren to the Kiddie amusement park and the pony rides on Beverly and La Cienega. Beverly Center now stands there.
Pop was a man who was very generous to his family. He and Grace threw an L.A. wedding reception for us newlyweds here in LA after we returned from the St. Louis wedding and reception.
Pop was a heavy smoker and coughed so that the children identified coughing and Grandpa. He was the type person who liked to argue: he was always right! If we bought something without consulting him first, he’d claim to know where could have gotten it cheaper.
Once at our house he had a minor heart attack. He blamed my Midwestern dinner of ham and corn for his indigestion. I can still hear him muttering that in Italy they only gave corn to pigs. When I knew him Pop never drove the car; Grace, his wife, did the driving. He was a very volatile “Italian” type. I’m just happy my husband inherited his mother’s gentler personality.
Pop was born in a little town near Naples. His father was the tax collector, so the story goes, and left hurriedly for Argentina, leaving two sons, a daughter and wife. Michael, the oldest son , went to America to live with an uncle in New Jersey and learn a trade. Then he moved to Los Angeles, where he met and married Grace Ricciardi.
His sister Marianina married Dominick (Jimmy) Valentino and was soon widowed with 6 children. [editor’s note: Elaine had this story wrong since Marianina died in 1932 and Jimmy in 1936] His younger brother Valentino and his wife died from the fumes of an unvented gas heater. [ed: in 1912] Pop supported his mother until her death. [ed: in 1924]
Mike was hospitalized with ruptured diverticulitis, recovered, and six months later died in front of his home from a heart attack.
Elaine's Memoirs 