You would need to be pressed very hard to find a kinder, more generous, better loved, more widely respected man than Joseph Patrick Giamundo.
Though a general contractor by actual trade, his role in 65 years of life was not to renovate or repair people's homes and properties. Rather, the man's primary duty was to provide guidance, support, comfort and, most importantly, example to a family consisting of more than 30 people.
He had no children of his own. An early and rather horrific tragedy put an end to that.
Yet we were all Uncle Joe's children. And proud of it.
"Patriarch" falls pretty far short of describing the man's station in our clan. He was just completely and deservedly revered, by his family for sure, but by many others as well.
He still is. And it's been decades since he passed on.
I came across this picture not long ago and made sure to keep it in plain sight so that I could remember to share it with you for the holidays. It's one of Uncle Joe's homemade Nativity scenes, the kind he would throw together using scraps of plywood and two-by-fours leftover from his contracting jobs.
Nothing was so extraordinary about these annually assembled outdoor structures. And yet this one will stick with my entire family forever.
The hand-scribbled sign stapled to the top says it all.
TO THE S.O.B.s THAT STOLE THE FIGURES OUT OF THE MANGER
DROP DEAD
Yep, Uncle Joe's nativity scene figures got heisted.
His mood after discovering the overnight theft was more wounded than angry, at least that's how it seemed to me. The few figures that you see in the picture are extras that Uncle Joe gathered up and hastily placed in the manger after all the originals had disappeared. It was an incomplete set but, well, at least it was something for us kids to look at and feel excited about during the holidays.
For a good couple days my uncle tried to hide his melancholy. When his sign appeared, especially the DROP DEAD part of it, we were all pretty shaken up. Uncle Joe just never spoke that way to people, no matter how much they deserved it. I remember feeling really badly for him, like something uniquely precious, perhaps even like the child he'd lost, had gotten ripped away from him once again.
On Christmas Eve Uncle Joe awoke to find that his Nativity scene figures had all been returned. His mood, of course, brightened considerably, and so did the rest of the family's. Just before leaving his house to attend the midnight mass at St. Rita's Uncle Joe put up another sign on his manger.
THANK YOU VERY MUCH AND MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU!
I can't find a picture of that sign. But don't really need one either.
Merry Christmas everybody.
