Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 11/22 - Billy

On this day when we give thanks for our blessings, I have a heavy heart. Billy Costakes, a dear old friend, has suddenly passed away at 62. I spoke to his son, Junior, who said his dad was in a pizzeria in the Bronx, said he didn’t feel well, and keeled over. I don’t recall exactly when his family moved to Bay 37th Street, but I’m pretty sure we were pre-teens at the time. I can still picture him on his bike, the basket in front. On many summer mornings we would ride to the shadow of the Verrazano Bridge and fish for striped bass. We saw many of the Sean Connery Bond films together. He was always a kind soul. I still can envision the agonized look on his face when I broke down during my father’s wake. He was a talented artist, although he never pursued it professionally. He delved into photography, although he was unable to make a living at it. He was always trying to better himself and his family. As a teen, he had a subscription to Playboy, and whenever the latest issue arrived a group of us would go to the vacant lot up the street to take a look. He served as the equipment manager of the football team at Lafayette High School during the ‘66 & ‘67 seasons. Upon graduation, he entered the career development program at Gimbel’s, at the time the world’s second largest department store. Ever faithful, he remained there until its doors closed for good. He then went into the food business. One day I ran into him as I was getting off an elevator at Four World Trade. His company provided the food to the Exchange’s cafeteria. I hadn’t seen him in so long. I was shocked that his hair had gone completely white. Recently, he tried his hand at selling solar panels on the side. His younger brother, Paul, who passed away a few years ago, always worried that Billy was working himself to death. He had an old-fashion work ethic, a throwback mentality. This past year he immersed himself in election politics, endorsing Mitt Romney, sending countless emails. His home suffered damage during Hurricane Sandy. The next day he was on the roof, covering the spots where solar panels had been torn away. He cut his leg, lost a lot of blood, and had to be hospitalized overnight. I wonder if the stress and disappointment of the past month contributed to his death. How unfair, especially to his wife Susan and Bill Jr.. He was a prince. I can’t believe he’s gone. He is the third Bay 37th stalwart to pass away in two months. There is a sad acceptance when one of our old-timers leaves us. Bill's passing is a kick in the gut. I will always remember him, remember the Greek cuss words he taught me long ago and that we still laughed about. He joins his mom, dad and brother on the other side. I love you, my old friend. Rest in peace.