Author: Sal Bianco Jr

Oh Heck… Where was I? No! Not where am I? But “was” not “am”, and it’s about where I fell asleep. I’m sure it’s happened to everyone at one time or another! Your reading something very interesting and next thing you know you fall asleep and when you awake, you now need to find your place. What could be worse than that? Well in today’s world, how about your listening to an ebook and you eventually fall asleep… now this is a real problem, cause it could be many, many chapters that you’ve missed, or worse still the ebook comes to an end. Looking to find the place where you remember you listened to before you fell asleep is a real bummer. It’s a problem of the future, cause a lot of what’s offered today, is in the “clouds “.

So, I’ve come up with a product to solve the one where falling asleep when listening to an “E”book. Whatever gadget your using to listen, has the same problem, there is no other connection to you other than the earphones and the sound coming out. It will continue to send out that sound of the person reading whatever you’re listening to no matter what your condition. One solution is to hire a baby sitter to sit there watching you, till you fall asleep, and then proceed to wake you, or press the “II” to stop it. Another more private way would be for you buy a “Where was I” device to let you sleep peacefully, but it stops where you fell asleep… and no problem arising again, having to say… “Hey, where was I?

I’ve found a company that makes a product they use for another purpose,that will also solve my need, but I

need an agreement from them to produce it only for me and not market it themselves, as  they actually produce the item now but sell it only as a part to other companies, for other uses. With that accomplished, I now have begun selling it. To who you might ask? well, the largest ebook seller is Audible .com, and it is now a division of Amazon, now the largest retailer in the world. Small world isn’t it? OH! Where was I? sorry! I plan to sell the idea to them as a complete package, thereafter with an added very small percentage for my input. That should solve the retail end.

Although both the Bianco and Belloise families all lived in a very small village of

In order to get a true feel of where my father came from and how he lived, I will need to touch on his parents.  They both were unique in that they did not fit the term Immigrant. My Grandfather was a man that drove himself forward as soon as he arrived here in lower Manhattan in the year 1894. He was single, strong, and very smart. He immediately found work in a large fish market, called Fulton Fish Market  and after a while, saw that he could fill a need for people who lived in buildings on Mulberry St, where he lived, all of which had many floors. If they wanted fish, they had to plan to shop for it separately as it was sold only in the one area near the river. So, he bought a “push” cart and began buying “end of the day” fish at low prices, as he bought them from his old bosses knowing what they paid for each particular fish. He would start very early every morning and begin his route on Mulberry Street at Canal St, mainly because all the people living there were Italian emigrants who spoke no English. He would walk along yelling OH Pesh!! OH Pesh, and as he pushed, a bell hanging on a wire across his cart would ring and ring, with the bounce of his pace. People came and bought, more and more, as they learned that his fish was fresh, his prices were fair, and mainly because he gave them credit, trusting them to pay when they didn’t have the money at the time he came by. I don’t know how much he earned, but it must have been substantial, because he was able to save enough to travel back to Italy after only 5 years, and then as an American Citizen, to marry and return with his new wife to continue his business and begin a family. His wife, a giant of a woman for an Italian of her time, was from a family called Belloise, who were associated with his family living on the hillsides of Vesuvius Mountain, which has little towns along it’s base, and one called Avellino, was where they lived. Both families were notorious for being “Robin hood type bandits” on the local highways going through the mountains heading North and South. I believe, but am not sure; a bandit called Il Tremilyre was his grandfather, whose name was Salvatore Bianco. This Salvatore was also famous for his flirtatious ways as he walked through the towns, with his shotgun on his shoulder, acting pompously being the warden for the local Baron’s land.

When Aniello arrived back in New York with is new wife in early 1901, she was very close to having their first child. In September of that year, she did and it was a boy, who one day, would be my father, Salvatore Anthony Bianco, the first of nine living children of my Grandparents. There were one or two babies that didn’t make it in between, at least that is what Aunt Millie, their youngest daughter, told me. It was very common in those days that babies were lost to disease, or some other malady, so parents just accepted it, even though they were very sad at their loss. When my father was born, he was treated like a little god. As in all Italian families, the first son would inherit all from his father to carry on the name and traditions. So, from the start, he was spoiled and got whatever he wished. What was very different about my Grandfather was that he told everyone who spoke English, to speak only American English to his son. Yes, his children were to understand Italian, but English was to be spoken in and around them, and this was very surprising as he only spoke Italian. Thereafter, every 18 months or so, another child was born to them. Next to come along was a daughter, named Louisa, then another, Aniello, and another, Angelina, and another, Anthonio, and another, Michelle, and another, Josepeh, and another, Rafaella, and another, Amelia, and finally that was it, and just enough! It took fourteen years to accomplish this and all the other boys learned fast that they were always beholding to Salvatore. One time, many years later in the mid forties, when I was 10, while working with my Uncles, Michelle, or Mickey, told me that my father got everything and all the other sons could do was watch and envy him.

Salvatore was sent to Kindergarten at age 5 and his teacher was a Miss Speirer. She was wonderful with Children, as I can attest to, as I too, was taught by her when I too was only five. The school was around the corner on Prince Street, between Mulberry and Mott, and was called St Patrick’s School. It was the school set up by it’s church that was located around the corner on Mulberry St between Prince and Houston Sts, it was called St Patrick’s Old Cathedral. A Newer, Bigger, and more famous Cathedral, also called St Patrick’s, was built in Mid-town on Fifth Ave and 39th St. very much later, where a Cardinal was in residence who was called Cardinal Spellman. After his death, a very large High School was built in his honor called Cardinal Spellman. At any rate, and no matter what, our church was wonderful, beautiful and had catacombs beneath it. Completely surrounding it was a very old Cemetery that dated back to the earliest days of when Manhattan was just beginning under British rule. In that cemetery there was an actual Prince who was buried there just after the church was founded. He had a tall column as his grave headstone that way went above the height of the 12 foot red brick walls surrounding the church. From Our Grandparents window, you could see the cemetery and the obelisk elegantly standing with a head shaped dome with a royal crown slanted on it, and a stone shaped scarf around its neck, with a crest showing his royal heritage. This grave was why the street directly along side it was named Prince Street.

The school was run by Sisters of Charity nuns, who lived in a small house built for them along side of the school. They had habits that were all black with long robes that touched the ground, with a cape surrounding their shoulders. Their scull cap hats covered their heads completely, with no hair showing as it was probably cut very short. The hat was actually a bonnet with a serrated brim that encircled their face from one side of the chin to the other in a fan affect that had a bow that hung down over the robe in front. At their waist, was a heavy twisted rope of the same color knotted in front with long tasseled tails, and hanging from it was their rosary beads. As I recall the wonderful memories of my childhood, they were gentle, loving and were called Sisters. I still remember my 4th grade teacher who was funny and kind who constantly pushed her finger under her bonnet scratching an eternal itch. Her name was Sister Sicilia, a woman of Irish decent who we all loved, that had charming ways to make us children react. Hey wait, this is about my father and not me, but this only shows that we experienced the same things while growing up.

I really don’t know too much about how he grew up, but it must have been wonderful for him as he received anything he could wish for. When he finished St Patrick’s, he went to a high school called La Salle run by French Christian brothers, and coincidently, I went to a High School called De La Salle having teachers, from the same order, French Christian Brothers. I don’t know how his marks were, but I do know he was a wiz at math. I can remember him running his finger down a column of numbers, as fast as a ball dropping to the floor, and then simply call out the correct addition. Wow!

He never finished High school as he was needed in his father’s business, as it was growing very fast. Now Grandpa had many strings of horses to pull his wagons and as each son was old enough, he was brought into the business,

after learning how to handle a team of horses, Grandpa would buy another string and wagon for that son. The horses were kept in a stable which was few streets south down on Mulberry St., near Grand Street, which had four floors and a ramp going from floor to floor. It’s still there today, but is now a garage with an elevator., It was after my father left Bianco Bros, and after few years, their business failed for lack of direction, so his brothers rented this garage and operated it for many years until each retired.

After their days work, all the boys had to stable the horses, and clean the stalls to be ready for the next days work, but when they returned home, they found their mother ready with a meal fit for kings. This is a good place to stop and describe her, to start with, I remember her as being a giant in my young eyes. She was nearly six foot tall and weighed about three hundred pounds, all of it loaded with laughter, always a gigantic smile on her face and bellowing laughter, while she leaned out their third floor window to watch the world go by, then to gossip with her neighbors across the street, all doing the same, and leaning out their windows. Now my grandfather was by comparison, just about five foot tall, rounded but not fat, who ran his home like his business, with a stern hand. That is, except for my father, who could do no wrong, and after he left high school he began working with his father full time, learning ways to improve it. One thing was to move slowly into more trucking of meat for their local butchers and bananas for fruit wholesalers. When he was 20, he began going to Broadway nightly, dressed in a fine tuxedo, custom made to fit him perfectly. That same Tux, I gave to my son Michael, who may still have it, he was the only one thin enough among us, to be able to fit into it. At one time I too wore it, that is, when I was in my 20’s to my fourties. My father would buy tickets for a particular show playing that night, and would attend, but I don’t know if he brought a woman along. It was at this time he began smoking those same cigars his father smoked. He saved all his playbills from the shows he attended, and when we were young, we would look at them in awe. My God! He saw Al Jolson, Eddie Cantor, and “The George White Follies” to mention only a few that I can now recall. We kept these play bills, but somewhere over time they were lost. My dad had it made, but his brothers didn’t appreciate the fact that he got to do everything, and they could only dream. One day his father told him he wanted to go to the place that sold cars. So, my father took him to a dealer that sold Duisenberg cars.

1920 Duesenberg

While in the showroom, my grandfather showed my father the car he wanted, my father then went to the salesman, told him that they wanted that particular car and how much was it. The salesman laughed and said to forget it as they couldn’t afford to buy that car as it was just too expensive, thinking to himself as he looked at them… “Greeseballs, just low class Italians”. My father said to him again, “How much?” The salesman, laughing, then told him with a sneer the huge price. My father turned told his father the price, who then gave him cash for the total amount. The salesman couldn’t believe it and said that the car was a show room sample. My father said do you want to sell that car or not and then showed him the cash. Well, they drove away with that car. As it turned out that car became the turning point in my father life. I don’t know exactly when, but one day my father, along with some of his friends, took a long ride to upstate New York. They brought along with them, bootleg whiskey made by our famous “Uncle Mike”, that turned out to be either too powerful, or just very bad. All aboard passed it around as they traveled north, it was so strong and powerful that it affected everyone, and most importantly, my father, who was driving. I’m assuming that he was knocked senseless by the drink, so much so, that he crashed the car into a bridge wall along side of the highway. Again, I’m not exactly sure, but I believe at least one of his friends aboard was seriously maimed, or killed. This event changed my father’s outlook on life… no more the gay blade… no more being spoiled…and definitely no more bootleg wiskey!

After a while, still working with his family, when he was about 24, his father told him to go out again with cash, and buy another string of horses and a new wagon as well, business was getting even bigger, with more sons coming of age. My father took the cash and came back with a 1919 Cabover Mack truck, which had wooden wheels, hard rubber tires, and a Cab body that had two open sides, no doors or signals, with just a seat, steering wheel and a curved roof. On top of the cab was a metal catch-all to hold a canvas cover. However, it did have a new thing just invented, a horn that went ROOGAH, ROOGAH, when you pushed down hard on the horns top. When he arrived home with the truck, his father went ballistic; he couldn’t believe his son and favorite would disobey him. He cursed at him for buying something that had to maintained, that no body knew how to drive, that needed this stuff called gasoline to run, and where to buy it. He yelled “The horses only ate their oats and hay which they had plenty of, not this new expensive gasoline.”

In the early 70s, I had set up a scouting program for our area in Scarsdale called Greenacres. It was so successful that before long I was asked to set up scouting in two other areas. It was fun doing but I realized that most young boys had no real sport to play other than football and baseball, and yes, basketball. The boys had to have certain talents to play those three sports and most boys didn’t fit the bill, as only the very best were chosen out of all who tried out, leaving over 70% of the boys in the town with no real sport to play. That is why scouting became so important but it was not enough for boys needing a sport.

One day I was approached by a parent of a new scout who like myself wanted to be more involved helping the boys, and wondered if we could set up a soccer team. I had no idea of what the game of soccer was, and so asked about it. He told me it was sort of like football, but not so aggressive or dangerous. after he explained how the game was played and how it wasn’t important how big or Athletic the boys were, but rather it could be played by all with only the will to be on a team, and just have fun kicking a ball. I said, wow that sounds great as both my sons had absolutely no interests in the sports available. So, we made plans to start with him doing the teaching and me the organizing. It worked and as we moved forward with our plan, it grew. However,most everyone here in America had no idea of what the game of soccer was, and it was only because this parent who was from England where it is was very big, as well as it was all over the world. The reason the English neighbor thought it was a good game for all the young kids who weren’t good at baseball or football, as there was another  and different sport to play just for fun.

I agreed and we two began in our local school district at Greenacres. We started by visiting with the gym teacher who thought it was a great idea and knew the sport slightly, so he promised to allow us to show up at his classes. at the first meeting we asked the boys if they would like a game of fun where they would not have to learn anything, but just kick a ball. Now we had another problem to overcome and that was I had no idea about how to play the game. Baseball, yes, football, yes, but soccer, no way. so, we asked all the boys to ask their fathers if they knew how to play soccer, or if they would like to help us to teach and play soccer. Low and behold a father showed up at the next meeting in the gym class and he said he played semi-pro soccer in Brazil when he was young and would love to coach a team, and even to the parents who could learn to become coaches. so now we had a start and proceeded to go to the local parent association which controlled all area activities and ran all that went on in the district, and it was called The Greenacres Association. It was run by the males of the families owning homes in the district who were voted into office every three years, with meeting every month. So we went to the next meeting for their approval to allow the soccer games to be played in the school yard when Football or baseball weren’t being played, which was just before twilight when we were able  to start to play. And so it Began, and began it did with over 60 players wanting to learn. Wow! Wow! when we started it was just a big learning curve, but found the boys were having fun, more fun, than they imagined, and they didn’t have to train, or do anything but run and play at kicking a ball. after a year of soccer, we had 3 teams of ascending ages from Greenacres, and after we advised the other districts of our success, they asked for help in setting up a team of their own, so we began bringing each of the other teams to play against each other, and before long Scarsdale had 24 teams and nearly 400 players, 24 coaches, and 48 assistants with me running the program as chairman and head coach. I found that it wasn’t always fun doing the job, as every so often I had to fire a coach due to his either favoring is son, or making it more important to win using only the best players, leaving others not so good to sit out the whole game. So, all I did was travel from game to game each weekend asking the right question of the boys sitting on the bench and how much they got to play. It seemed to work as I was continually voted back into office each season, and before long Soccer was the major sport in Scarsdale, with soccer fields built in each district. However, my sons were always most important in my mind, and as they were growing up, we found things we did together from soccer, to skying, to motorcycling, to playing serious racquetball, and finally to watch them move out into their world, and begin conquering it in their own special way. So far, all three has surpassed my wildest dreams!

All my young life I was very involved with religion, because my mother started all her children into being devout catholic’s. So, as I grew up religion was an important part of my life, and it controlled how I thought and acted. When I married I was 26, and a virgin, and most of my friends called me “The Saint”,and for a good reason. If I heard any friend curse, I would go over to him and punch him out. If he fought back, I would continue to beat him up, no matter how big he was, cause I had something always going for me… I was left handed and did things in the opposite way everyone else did, and so giving me a big advantage. So, I was the Saint, and actually respected for it. out of 12 boys living on my block, I was the only one who went to Catholic school, all the others went to public school. As we grew up they would one at a time, find a girl and be gone from the pack, till I was alone. Being married changed things fast, as I had a son 10 months later. and then another a year after that. As they grew up, I became very involved with what they did, always pushing them in the correct direction. So, sports were important, but not as much as camaraderie with their friends, and the Boy Scouts was the way. It was also very important that they became good Catholics, and I made certain that it happened by my example, making sure they saw in me a faith that was strong and true.When they were in their teens, I kept the pace and became involved in the CCD program at our local church. They didn’t go to Catholic school because their mother was against it, thinking that Scarsdale schools offered more, as then the boys would be mingling with a higher class people, so I agreed only to keep the peace. Actually mybboys didn’t like going there and said so! When they were old enough, I enrolled them into after school classes at (CCD)Confraternity of Christian Doctrine at our local church. In order to be involved and actually wanting to help, I joined, and started teaching the boys of my sons age, in the CCD program. Because I was very involved in many sports and Scouting, most boys knew me as “Mr Bianco” or, in many cases other than my sons, “Dad”. My classes in CCD were different than all the others, as I believed that to get the boys to keep being interested at that age to continue to follow our religion, I had to make them want to, not because they had to. My technique was different than what was followed by the priests and other CCD teachers. I started each class by sitting my boys in front of a basketball basket, and me standing in front of them. First I would have to quiet them down, cause they knew soon they be playing, and then begin the class, by saying out very very, loud… Who am I ? They all would yell as one.., You are Mr, Bianco!!! I would then yell again… And what do I believe? Their answer again loud and in unison was… You believe in God. We’d all clap and laugh and then I’d begin. No. not with the catechisms books that were supposed to be used by all, including me. I’d start with saying I believe in the Catholic Church and what it stands for. Then continue to tell how they should follow the 10 commandments and what each stood for. Not all at one time, but one for that day that I would expand on, telling them how I would and how I did act. This would go on for about a half hour and then I would say out loud”LET’S PLAY BASKETBALL”  and that’s what we’d do! They learned two things…One about God, and the other how to have fun doing it. One day as I began my class at CCD, and without knowing, a priest was watching without us noticing him. We began in the same way and did so till we reached my beginning to talk about our religion. He came out of hiding and said out loud “STOP”. I turned and smilingly said hello Father Murphy. He came up to me and asked “What are you doing+? I replied, ” Teaching them about God and how our religion worked”. He said where are the catechism books and why aren’t they reading them and reciting them out loud? I said because I taught in a different and better way, as I knew what would work on boys their age whose thoughts at this time in their lives was not about religion. By making it fun, they learned at the same time. Being furious he said, “not in his school” and said that I would no longer be teaching CCD in his church. I couldn’t believe it, but he had control, so I turned to the boys and “It was fun wasn’t it”! They all yelled “YES MR BIANCO”. I never went back to that church or any other for that matter after that. My religion is just as strong, but it’s directed to a one on one with God Directly, a much better and surer way to true faith. I naturally told my sons they could either go or not go to CCD classes after that. I began to put more of my efforts into scouting in our town of Scarsdale, which by the way, held it’s meetings at the local protestant church!

As a foot note: As we now can all see, the Catholic church has fallen to a secondary level among Catholics’. It no longer can be strict, parishioners are moving away because of it. Even the Pope has lost his control and stature! Why? It’s my case millions times over!

It was sometime in the early 70’s when my business was established and all my five offices were producing different products for my customers. I was now producing all my artificial flower in Thailand, as they were now producing my flowers in polyester plastic using the same process as in their Thai silk making cloths and accessories. I had a partner there whose family owned a lot of land in southern Thailand, in the province of Chung Mai, where they had a large lumber company in neighboring Malaysia. Their connections in Bangkok with two large flower manufacturers gave me control over what they produced. They were the Charoensub family and their oldest man asked me to buy two very special Bulls from America for their ranch along the southern coast of Thailand. When I did, they didn’t know how to repay me. Their help with the flower manufacturers was enough, but every time I arrived in Bangkok, they would meet me at the plane and drive me to my hotel. I had a suite there and guess who it was used by most of the time? Do you remember James Michener, the famous author of many books telling of the history of how many areas of America were established, from the time of only indians till settlers and so on. At any rate at that time he was the most popular author, and my partners there made sure I always had his suite, that is, when he wasn’t there, the shame was, I never got to meet him in all my time there.

I don’t remember if I’ve ever written about my being asked to wear a neck scarf from the time I was eighteen till the present day as a Bianco Family Tradition and because I did, I always would stop by a very famous store in Bangkok called Jim Thompson’s, who produced Thai Silk scarves and the like, and it still exists today, except expanded to a chain throughout Asia and America. Their products were very expensive, but beautifully handmade, in fact I still have a few that I still wear.

These Thai silk scarves I bought in 1977, that I still wear every day!

It was at this time that Jim Thompson, the owner, disappeared into the jungles of Malaysia. There were many Thai expeditions going into Malaysia to help search for him, as he was liked by all the Thai people in Bangkok, and it was then that I was approached by members of the CIA. They asked me if I would discreetly join in the search and report back to them, but I couldn’t let anyone know why and where I was going. I asked them…why me? They explained that because of my frequent travels throughout Asia, it gave me legitimacy to go to Malaysia and secretly search for Jim Thomson, He explained that Mr Thompson was working undercover for the CIA  to investigate what was happening with the guerrilla warfare going on from Malaysia into Vietnam, as it was creating major problems for our troops there. In fact if Jim Thompson wasn’t found, would I consider working for them to replace him.

A side note here because you may be too young and not know too much about the Vietnam War:

The Vietnam War was fought between North Vietnam and its communist allies, along with the Viet Cong gorillas, who operated throughout South Vietnam, against the South Viet Namese government and its principal ally, the United States. The conflict was also part of a larger regional battle between communism against democracy throughout all of the South Pacific and Indochina, that was primarily fueled by the Soviet Union and China on one side and the United States on the other. It began in 1954 and didn’t end until 1975. with the United States and it’s Allies being forced out.

So, with their help I organized a group using my partners and their people, to form a legitimate search. The crazy thing was when I would go into the jungle with my group, I had to be dressed in a suit and tie. Seems crazy now but it solved the problem of my moving about as I always did normally, only now I could be in a jungle. Now you would think that “Hey! This is a jungle! Are you crazy in a business suit you have to be really hot! But I wasn’t as I was more concerned at what I was trying to accomplish to worry about a little heat. After three days of looking everywhere and going nowhere, the hunt was stopped. I finished my business in Thailand and left for Hong Kong and back to just being a businessman. Jim Thompson was never heard from ever again, but his name and business still exists today, with his home and belonging maintained awaiting his return.

Who remembers Pan Am? It was a famous airline, and I sadly miss it and now only have my memories of it!

When my business visits to the Orient became more often and regular, I created a relationship with the most famous Airline of the time called, Pan Am World Airways. where I was treated royally and had special privileges with them. In those days, there was no “Business Class” as you know it today, where you pay extra if you want to sit in that section.

Most Airlines offered special privileges to their regular business travelers, where seats in the center of their planes were reserved for them, with curtains separating that section in back and front from other passengers being directly behind First class. Pan Am had the same on their planes, but went a lot further, as no matter where I traveled someone from that local Pam Am office would be there to greet me and ask how they could help me. Usually I would need a place to hang out awaiting for another flight, either on Pan Am or some other airline. They would invite me into their special Pan Am lounge, called “The Clipper Club” to wait. At the club all amenities were freely offered with drinks and snacks that anyone might desire, as well as having a charming staff that ran it. In those days, being politically correct didn’t exist, so Stewardess’s had to be beautiful, well shaped, with a lovely manner to even be considered to be hired by the airlines. With my visiting the club so often, the local staff at each airport I traveled to knew me and would discuss my plans for the trip and how they could best help out. Many times in the lounge there would be some dignitary or well know person, or persons, where some would be friendly, and others standoffish!  Bianco, me, would never give up and always made an extra effort to be friendly to everyone in the club lounge. Because the staff knew me so well, they would always happily greet me like I was their friend not just another customer. Usually there would be some traveling executive of Pan Am that they would introduce me to, and all would be like family, and that person would personally accompany me to the plane door, put me aboard to a place reserved for passenger like myself, thank me and leave me comfortable with a glass of champagne. One time after the hellos and introductions, I was walking about the room when who should be sitting in a quiet corner but Dustin Hoffman. Naturally, I went over to him, as I would to any passenger in the club but not like he was someone special, but just like another friendly traveler. At first he was shocked, then he relaxed as he realized I was just being friendly and not the usual gloppy greeting he got from people admiring a very famous person.  We talked about how great it was to travel with Pan Am and actually, before long, we were the only people left in the lounge as our plane to Bangkok would be delayed for another three hours. They asked if we would be alright without them as the lounge normally closed after all Pan Am flights were gone. Since we were flying on Thai Airways, they could have asked us to leave, but they said to relax till our flight was ready and some other staff member would close up. Dustin and I talked about what we were doing when in Bangkok, I talked of my business dealings and he going to meet his fiance. We had few more drinks at the bar, and finally went to catch our flight, and thereafter onto our separate ways.

That was Pan Am Airways, so why would they eventually be forced to shut down? I never found out why, but I direly missed them, as never again would an airline have such service. United Airlines tried but in no way could compare. Delta Airlines took over all Pan Am assets and gave me their lounge entry card, but in no way did it even come close to “PAN AM”. It was the beginning of ,,, The End of an Era!! and here is the why?  

                                    Pam American World Airways
(Pan Am) was founded in 1927 as a scheduled airmail and passenger transport carrier servicing routes between Florida and Havana, Cuba. Pan Am’s use of jet aircraft, jumbo jets and and their advanced reservation system helped shape the whole commercial airline industry. An important part of Pan Am’s success was its highly trained staff of pilots, flight crews, mechanics, and support staff. The 1973 energy crisis impacted Pan Am, with higher fuel costs and a decreased demand for air travel. The 1986 hijacking of Pan Am Flight 73 in Pakistan and the 1988 terrorist bombing of Pan Am Flight 103 above Lockerbie, Scotland did irreparable damage to the airline’s reputation. The Gulf War, which began in 1990, further decreased demand for international air travel and Pan Am began selling off its most profitable routes. Unable to continue a profitable business, Pan Am ceased operations in December, 1991.

In 1963, when I was 31, it was a very good year! I was working at “ZA”. Zunino Altman Artificial Flower Co. and I was approached by two men, Phil Mann and Arthur Braverman, who were partners developing a small publishing Company. They asked me if I would write a small pamphlet about Artificial Flower Arranging, as they thought it would be very successful, as none was as yet produced. I thought about it and then discussed it with the gift buyer at Woolworth’s who I had developed as a customer for “ZA”. His name was Arthur Conover, who much, much later, became one of my partners in a company I formed called BCY INC. He said that he would place an order for it, if, when it was finished, he thought it would sell. My new partners had an associate who they introduced to me who was also trying to publish on her own, and her name was Martha Steward. When my first draft was finished, I showed it to Arthur Braverman, who thought it was great except that it needed better pictures on each of my step by step explanations for making each type arrangement, I had designed  three, the “S” curve, the “Crescent”, and the “Traditional”. So, We set up a place in “ZA”‘s back room at 16th St and Third Ave. Then at each place where I felt an explanation would be put, I created the Step by step description of pictures that were taken by  a young man who I later worked with on my up and coming Children’s hard board books called “TUFFY” books. After all the pictures were taken, I then built a story on each to create from start to finish 3 different flower arrangements. with the final proofs, I went to see Arthur Conover who after seeing them, agreed to order enough pamphlets for those stores carrying Artificial Flowers, which were about 900 of the 2000 Woolworth Stores. so I got my first order for 6 dozen per store to start. so, I went forward and finished it but decided to use a pseudonym and so called the author Gene Taylor”, and named the pamphlet  “Artificial Flower Arranging It’s easy and It’s Fun” By Gene Taylor. While this was all happening, I didn’t know that out of his friendship with Martha Steward, Arthur Braverman was showing her generally what we were doing. We went to press, and published 7000 dozen booklets, just as a starter. I was considering going to the other large retailers to offer the little booklet to them as well, but felt Woolworth had the right to sell them first, being Mr. Conover was taking the chance of it selling well. It was at this point that I was given a copy of a pamphlet by Author Martha Steward, who had used all my designs, just changed slightly and with very close explanations, using different pictures. I couldn’t believe it and asked Phil Mann how it could happen! He said that Arthur was showing Martha how we were progressing, not thinking she would copy our pamphlet. She went to her contacts and sold her version of my pamphlet to them before I could get to them, since I held off going to them. Thank God mine was successful at Woolworths, so much so that Arthur Conover asked me to come up with another one but for Christmas this time. So back to work on a Christmas version, only this time I told Arthur Braverman not to make his same mistake twice. He said he learned his lesson, kept his word and told Martha Steward she stole our ideas. As for Ms Steward, over the years I watched from afar as she became expert in every field, pushing aside the true expert, as she tried to do to me, except in my case, it didn’t work. because of her first attempt on us, we were on to her, and kept her out of our circle. However, she worked her magic in the Gift Building and many companies were sorry they dealt with her, as you readily see today, that she’s the

 “Jack of all…, oops no…  It’s…Martha of all trades”

In making my Christmas version, it was going to be more than just arrangements, as I had ideas on how to make Christmas tree decorations out of everyday things around the home, as well as how to properly decorate a Christmas tree with the new mini-lights sets, that had just hit the marketplace. It too was a success, and no Martha Steward version. It’s title was Christmas Decorating It’s Easy and It’s Fun by Gene Taylor

Ok! What was to follow? Now that, was going to be a tuff one! tuff, No I didn’t spell tough wrong, cause we created “TUFFY BOOKS” a year later. Somewhere, in some place, there is a set still out there. However, I do still have a very cheap watch we had made called “tuffy”. Cheap, but cute, as we gave them away when a full set of Tuffy Books were purchased! Send in the receipt and along came the watch.

little tuffy is copyrighted to Tuffy Books

In 1970 when the United States government was trying to protect both Taiwan, where General Chan Kai Shek and his army fled to the South from the Communists uprising, and South Korea since the invasion from China and North Korea in 1950, and in order to show solidarity, it didn’t allow American Citizens to travel into China. So, the Hong Kong Trading companies  in order to be able to sell products from Hong Kong, needed to manufacture most of it in China, then smuggle the products into Hong Kong, add labels that said “Made in Hong Kong”. Another problem that existed for these same Trading companies was that most factories in China were government owned and managed by Retired Chinese Generals as a reward for their armed service by forcing out Chan Kai Sheik and his followers. So, the problem for Hong Kong was that the production from China was non-existent, or at best, very, very, poor in quality. But Taiwan now had all the manufacturing companies that were in China and they were good at what they produced making a terrific competition for them. What was shipped from Hong Kong at that time was mainly produced in Hong Kong, but the quantities were very small, and mainly plastic products and the start of a new industry. Thankfully, I was then able to design and produce my plastic Artificial flowers there. I also was producing them in Taiwan using a Quasi-Trading Co.’s office which was started and run by my ex-World’s Fair partner, Gene Schaffer, a man I learned to love as a brother. In the office I had previously started in Hong Kong, run by Jacquard Yeung, my one and only employee, I had Hong Kong manufacturers producing plastic flowers for F. W. Woolworth Co., starting with my famous Boston Fern (I still have an existing label below) so when I saw a chance to visit China I jumped on it.

However, how to do it, without my passport being stamped there? Well, Mr. Wong, a friend and business associate, then producing my 8’beaded Christmas garland, owned Onward Trading Co.,had the answer. It was a secret way that was quite clever and used many times. What he did was to plan a large mahjongg card party on the Portuguese island of Macau, which is just off the coast of Hong Kong and China. It was to be held a restaurant of the many gambling casino’s located there. The party consisted of 20 mahjongg players, which always was in groups of ten at a table, would begin playing immediately after a banquet of the best Chinese food I had ever tasted in all my life. I being the guest of honor, and actually the excuse for them being there, was supposed to play mahjongg with the other players. So, after our meal was finished, 4 waiters removed all the dinnerware and cleaned the tables. We diners were told in Chinese to slide our chairs back and when we did, they picked up the table top and flipped it over with a flair that was done to excite all, and especially me. Then, low and behold, a Mah Jongg table now existed. I was told that they did this for one thousand tables on 4 levels, daily. When the games were to begin, our players purposely became very noisy with who was playing where, and used as a distraction that was perfectly timed as I was pulled away by Mr. Yeung and directed out through a special door, as this technique was used all the time since the American embargo. He took me down a set of stairs and out behind the Casino to where there was a beautiful original Old Style Chinese Junk floating alongside of the dock, with its wild orange sails noisily flapping in the wind. The one pictured below is a much larger version of the one we jumped into.

Once on the junk, we were whisked away towards China which was only about one half mile away and when we arrived, a brand-new Mercedes was waiting. Yeung and I got in and it took off onto a dirt road that was rocky with holes everywhere. As we went, we had to go around loads people who were either walking or riding their bikes. It seems in China, at that time, walking and cycling had the right of way, as actually there were no cars to speak of, and they just wouldn’t move no matter how loud the horn blared. So, I got out and joined the walkers, who turned and looked at me, giggling like I was freak as at the time, a westerner was never seen by small local towns people. Many were pointing to their eyes and saying what was wrong with my eyes, my skin? Actually, at that time, all westerners were known as “Round Eye”. It really was fun, as all the kids would come over to me, like I was some freak, pulling my sleeves and giggling as they did it. Mr. Yeung came walking along side me and kept scolding them in Chinese, telling and motioning them to stay away. I turned to Yeung and told him to stop as it was great fun to walk this way. However, Yeung said to me that we had a very little time before we had to get back so we wouldn’t be noticed as being missing. So, I got back into the car and it pulled off the road and worked its way around the walkers, till eventually we got to a small manufacturer. It was making the individual ferns stems that were eventually sent to Hong Kong where 30 of assorted sizes were implanted into a plastic handle for customers to be able to push into Styrofoam for arranging. As I walked through the small factory I saw that a lot needed to be done to make the factory more productive, and with much better quality. So I asked Yeung to get the manager down so I could talk to him. Yeung said laughingly that the manager couldn’t help as he was just a man who sat in his office but didn’t have anything to do with operating the plant. I said “What”?  He explained that the manager was an ex-soldier and got the job as a reward for his service, It seems that every factory was controlled by ex-Generals where I think the term “General Manager” was created. Wow! But it turned out this manager was waiting for us, as he pompously came down to meet me. He told Yeung that we were going to have a big celebration to welcome the American, as it was our American soldiers that helped push out the Japanese from China. It was a perfect excuse to have an American arriving and made for a banquet that I had to attend, as an honored guest. I’m sure glad we did as the food was again unbelievable, that is, except for the special dish in my honor of barbecued “dog”. Once the meal started, no-one really cared or noticed when we left as the excuse was in play. When we did leave, we now had to work our way back to the casino with all the same problems as in coming. A note here: I have a true story about people on the new highways of China, look for it!. Eventually, we arrived at the junk that whisked us back to Macau and the highly contested Mah Jongg game. It was in full swing and, guess what? I was never missed, so now I sat down in the chair saved for me, and it became very, boring as I had to wait till the games ended, which seemed like forever, but it was fun watching the screaming yelling, and laughing . I can’t believe that back home, ladies would play this game for hours.

Once we had a formula that worked with “no passport stamping”, I traveled the same route to that factory, and others, each time I came to Hong Kong, and slowly making the quality from our factories to be a top grade, along with my eating like a Chinese King.