My Brother Frank
He was older then me, we grew up in Cinisi, till we came to America, he was 19 and I was 13 years, he
had many friends in Cinisi, and made many more here. He enjoyed singing and telling jokes, his hobby
was building train tracks, with a city around it, mainly the town of Cinisi. My brother was a
handyman and could do anything, Shoemaker by trade, plumbing, and mastered to sharpening saws.
He was doing precision work at his job, without any education to read instructions. He was known
as Mastro Ciccio, by all that knew him, including us members of the family. Frank was handicapped
and limpid when he walked. His saying about living, “If I have my father’s genes I will live to
be 100, He died at age 59. “Amico di tutti”, he was everybody friend.
To My Brother Frank (Mastro Ciccio)
July 28 1935-July I 1994

When I was young, I looked for your guidance,
And there you were, you gave me assurance,
You kept me from wanting, and you gave to me,
It was on your bicycle, I wanted to be,

You had a lot of friends, that were attached to you
Mastro Ciccio, that’s what they referred to.
You earned that title, with the people you knew
The shoemaker, is how they knew you

Your records and trains, was what people enjoyed,
And in your basement, is where you gave them joy
They came to visit you, with their family
It was Mastro Ciccio, they came to see.

And when on a bus trip, with friends you went
Mastro Ciccio, who made them, pee their pants
You would sing, and tell jokes, all the way home
Friends wouldn’t stop laughing, they wanted more.

In America we came, with our sister Nini,
That much closer, we got to be
The trust we built, it was all there,
Each other’s advice was what we shared.

And when for my house, I needed some things done
You would tell me, don’t worry; we’ll get it done
You mastered the plumbing, the saw sharpening too
There wasn’t anything, you didn’t know how to do

When at Ford field, it was down home days
The sausage on the bun, made your day
Then the Romeo peach festival, on Labor Day,
You prepared all year, not to miss that day

The fourth of July, was about to come
It was that weekend, that all came undone.
My Nephew Sam, called me on the phone,
To tell me, his Daddy was already gone.

When rushing to the hospital,
The Family, waiting for me,
My eyes were wet, I could not see,

You looked so helpless, lying on your back
They said, you had a massive heart attack.
That was the last, of my Brother Frank.

Our Mother asked God, how could this be
My Daughter and My Son, Why not me
Our Father said, this is too hard to bear
I am an old man, this isn’t fair.

Your Daughter Margherita, looks at me
She says, Uncle Al, it’s my Daddy I see
While you Peacefully rest,
With your son Anthony on your side
Your Wife is dealing, with what’s left behind.

The Friends were shocked, of that news affect
That every one came, to pay You Respect


In Loving Memories
Your Brother, Alfonso Chirco
June 2007