Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 4/24

It was a sad Easter Sunday. Another of  our Bay 37th Street's longtime stalwarts, Jimmy Baglivi, has passed away at 93. Jimmy was as nice a guy as anyone would ever want to meet. For years he took us to Mets' games, using his company's box seats, which were $3.50 for a decade at least. To us, that was a fortune back then, something none of us would have splurged on. He loved baseball and watched every Mets and Yankees game. He knew the strategy inside out. I remember we once convinced him to take a swing during a stickball game. He did so, despite a bad back, and smoked the ball a long way, causing our collective jaws to drop. Of course, he was a big fan of Sinatra and all the Italian-American singers. He was an Army veteran and worked as a salesman. His lovely wife, Jill, passed away long ago, but he found companionship at the senior center in Bay Ridge. He was not one to complain, despite his back, then his neck, then gout. "We all have our cross to bear," he once told me. His faculties remained sharp until the end. His body simply gave out. Those of us privileged to have known him will always remember him. He was a prince. As the old saying goes: "They broke the mold when they made him." Condolences to his son Anthony, my life long friend. Rest in peace, Jimmy. We know you're in heaven.