Some words for my first best friend.

I had a dear friend growing up. Just one. But he changed my life in dramatic an unforgettable ways.  I met Don Edward Martello who lived 2 blocks away from me in Flushing Queens New York when I was about 9 or 10 years old. He was a character for sure. My early years were tough. I was awkward goofy and a target for lots of bullying and emotional abuse. I had zero confidence. Having Don Martello as my best friend was an incredible saving grace.  A sterling example of divine intervention for me.

He wasn’t big on school, nor was I. But he was incredibly inventive and creative and inspired that in me as well. From lemonade stands to an 8mm a silent movie theater in his basement. We built an elaborate puppet stage where we performed the Sorcerer’s Apprentice to a Disney record. We built a radio station in his backyard shed that broadcast music to the neighborhood by a 12 inch speaker mounted to the top of a basketball pole. We were always “making” something. Usually media related. His dad once found and brought home a beautiful but broken full sized RCA Victrola from the 1920’s (a record player). We restored it and got it working with vacuum cleaner belts! We also restored a canary Yellow 67 Dodge R/T. Muscle cars were all that in 1969 on our street corner. We would pour over electronics catalogs, Lafayette and Radio Shack books, for hour. We took things apart and learned to solder things together. While the other kids were sometimes rough and often even cruel with me, Donald was a steadfast friend.

Donald and his Italian family (Sicilian, they want you to know!) embraced me and gave my tough year’s,  depth and purpose. His grandfather Vincent had the gift of gab. Another character. He would strike up a conversation with anyone and everyone. “Hello young fella!” was one of his many opening lines. We would go to his grandparent’s property in the Catskill Mountains in the summer.  Great memories and experiences.

But it was music that spoke to both our souls. We embraced music with a passion. The “British Invasion” Beatles , Stones, Manfred Mann. Locally, we would go to see, The Young Rascals, The Hassles (an early band with Billy Joel) , Barnaby Bye, Vanilla Fudge and later out of Greenwich Village, The Blues Project. Their keyboardist Al Kooper went on to form Blood Sweat and Tears. They were all bands with dynamic keyboards. Our mutual appreciation of music took root. We would play 45’s for hours and then albums. And the advent of stereo and quadraphonic sound.(Early surround sound)  Don started keyboard, organ lessons.

Donald actually talked my parents into giving me guitar lessons which he took in a class with me with rented guitars. He was insistent that I learn to play guitar. Brother Bobby sometimes played drums. For Christmas he convinced my parents to buy me my first electric guitar and amplifier. My dad was a very frugal man.  Talk about a hard sell… I don’t know how he did that, but he was always a charmer. We studied and played and practiced. I would learn the opening lead riff for the Stones “Last Time” from the local good Humor Ice Cream man one summer. I could play (at one time) almost every Beatle song recorded. We were in local “garage” bands. I had found a purpose and he had too. For him it became a lifelong career. I remember the instruments. His dual keyboard Compact Farfisa portable organ.  Eventually a Hammond B-3 and full Leslie cabinet. Think Deep Purple’s Hush, Spencer Davis Groups, Gimme Some Loving and Vanilla-Fudge, You Keep Me Hanging On. Listen to those songs and you may hear what inspired Donald. The sound of that spinning Leslie speaker shifting from slow to fast or back always evokes memories of him and that infectious smile.  His feet dancing over the bass pedals and his face expressing every bit of the music he passionately made. He would look straight into you with a wry grin as he switched the spinning Leslie speaker from slow to fast!  Donald at the keyboard was always an amazing, lovable, energetic, character.

We had a “wedding” band, The Don Edwards Trio. We played all the “Blue Book” standards of the day. I learned to play by ear and follow and accompany him wherever he would lead. We also played rock and roll with a larger band at the Soldiers, Sailors and Airmen’s Club at 283 Lexington Avenue in Manhattan on alternate Saturday nights. We built lighting cabinets that appeared to sync with the music on stage. Don was a showman among showmen.

In the mid 1970’s amid a bad economy in New York and the infamous gasoline lines, I left New York City for New Mexico. With the confidence I had gained from my dear compadre I was able to begin a 30 year career in broadcasting. Within a year I was the weekend anchorman on the local CBS TV station in Albuquerque. Being my best friend, I would visit him once more in Sarasota Florida in late 1979. From that visit I took a job at a Tampa TV station as a news video-grapher and went on to win a local Emmy while working there. But I never saw Don again.

I would  send a card or letter some years at the holidays but never heard anything back. Our paths had parted. But not my love of music. Not my can-do spirit.  That I owe entirely to him. Any sense of confidence that  I might have,  originated with the music that came from my fingertips and the joy of making sounds that people could sing and dance to. Donald you put that in me. My passion for communication, born in a  backyard shed and a basement, now to this day manifests in web pages and essays such as this. Yes there are many in my path that shaped and cultivated all that I have become, but without question my best friend Don Martello planted the seeds.

I recently took up researching my family history and while taking a break and thinking back to my young days in Queens NY by an odd chance I  “Googled” Don Edward Martello the other night.

Don left us on September 11^th last year 2015. I don’t know how or why. I probably never will. I can say I have been blessed with very little loss in my life so far.  Learning that Don was no longer on the planet rocked me. My parents passed years back and I’ve lost two dear professional friends over the years, but knowing Donald is gone has really sent me into some reverent reflection.  I looked at his photo on line. He ended up looking much like his Dad a wonderful gentle and patient man.  My world is emptier knowing Don is gone. Donald, I appreciate you more than I probably ever expressed. I learned to touch the world in great ways, as I know you always did.

We never talked much about faith but I was baptized as an adult in 2012. So when I read about sowing and reaping, I know the seeds you and your family planted in me have helped me in the good things I do here on this earth.

I know God put you in my life, and I am forever grateful for that.  I know you are making music and people smile now in heaven. (Do they do the Alley Cat or the Chicken Dance up there?) My prayers will always be of thanks for you and for God to watch over those you love here on earth. Thank you for being all you have been to me. I am so much richer because you were here.

 

Jay Garcia