Mr. D'Antoni

      Many years ago, when Mr. D'Antoni's grandfather was a very poor immigrant, he'd thought only of his business, which was the family delicatessen. But to get control of their business, they had to own the building it was in, and once they owned that building, the family began to snap up other properties on the block. It just made sense, at a certain point, to own the entire block, and no longer be in business of serving cold cuts and making sandwiches with them. His father learned the real estate business instead of the delicatessen business, and his son, the current Mr. D'Antoni, was now in charge of it.

     The sprawling real estate business covered quite a bit of the city, and owned directly or partially some $50 million worth of property. Not that any of that wealth was directly turned into ready cash. No, quite a bit of it was in under-performing commercial and residential properties, properties which sometimes cost more to operate than they brought in in rent. But, at the end of the day, making money from other people making money beat making money yourself, any day.

     Mr. D'Antoni liked to walk down the block a say, "hello" to everybody in his fine suits. Everybody liked him, just like they had liked his father. It was because he came from business owners, from renters. His family was not a family of landlords or aristocrats in the Old Country.

     He knew their struggles and the softness which was sometimes necessary to keep a good tenant in their home or their business from going under. He was probably too soft for his own good, but what could he do about that either? Being liked was good for his peace of mind. He didn't want to end an Ebenezer Scrooge.

     Politics, well, he'd thought about it, but the times had changed too quickly in the late sixties and early seventies. He was already too old, and not progressive enough for the city at that time. The people he knew in politics were being put out of office, and the people going in didn't want anything to do with people like him.

     So, now getting up into years, he took solace in what he still had. Property, money, comfort, homes in Napa and Hawaii. Money for nice cars and fine wines and black tie events. And that was good enough for him.