Believe Nothing You Hear, and Only Half of What You See — A memoir of Service, Shame and the Search for Truth
Return to Home in Fort Leavenworth, Kansas
I had just wrapped up my sophomore year at Notre Dame when I returned to Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, where my parents and two younger sisters were living.
Dad Completes Assignment at Command & General Staff College
My father completed his two-year tour at the Command & General Staff College as a tactics instructor. He received another Meritorious Service Medal (MSM) from the Army.
Dad Receives Orders for U.S. Army War College
It didn’t take long to learn that my father had received orders to attend the U.S. Army War College (USAWC) at Carlisle Barracks, Pennsylvania. The Army War College is one of the most prestigious institutions in the military. Founded in 1901 in response to shortcomings revealed during the Spanish-American War, it was designed to improve leadership and strategic planning at the highest levels. It closed during World War II and reopened in 1950, eventually relocating to Carlisle Barracks in 1951.
The mission of the USAWC is to educate and develop leaders for service at the strategic level while advancing knowledge in the global application of Landpower. Students are senior military officers — including international fellows — and high-level civilian government officials preparing for top leadership roles. The College also functions as a research hub and think tank, with centers like the Center for Strategic Leadership and the Strategic Studies Institute guiding national security discussions.
Upsetting News for Me
What this meant for me personally was simple: I wasn’t going to be at Fort Leavenworth for long. No more hanging out with Becky Roberts or the Morrison girls. Instead, it meant yet another move — packing up our government quarters, clearing quarters, and a bunch of goodbyes once again.
Wisdom Teeth Extraction on Cleaning Day
The timing, as usual, was less than perfect. On the very day we were scheduled to clear quarters, I had all four of my wisdom teeth pulled. Instead of spending the day in bed sipping soup, I was on my hands and knees scrubbing the oven and refrigerator for the housing inspection team. My cheeks were swollen, my mouth was throbbing, and I was exhausted, but we passed inspection.
Sad Goodbyes
I made tearful goodbyes to all the girls I was in love with that summer — Becky, Heidi, and all the Morrison girls. Then we loaded up the Cordoba and headed east to Medford, Massachusetts, to stay with Nana Pietrantoni for what was left of the summer — before my father had to report to the War College in Carlisle.
Another Road Trip to Nana & Papa in Medford, Mass
We made the long drive across the country back to the Boston area to spend most of the summer living with Nana and Papa Pietrantoni, along with Aunties Norma and Cynthia.
That meant sleeping once again in the attic bedroom — hot, stuffy, and without air conditioning. I started thinking about where I could work that summer, and I wasn’t exactly thrilled about the prospect of returning to Carpenito Brothers’ 5-Cs fruit and produce business to load trucks again. So, when Auntie Norma suggested she might be able to get me a job at the law firm where she just started working, I jumped at the chance.
Auntie Norma at Boston’s Best Law Firm
Auntie Norma was a legal executive assistant for a prominent Boston firm located in the famous “Pregnant Building” in the Financial District. I’ll just refer to the company as “Boston’s Best Law Firm.” Before anything else, she made a few things clear: this was a serious professional law firm, I needed to look and act accordingly, and no one there was to know that we were related. The position was as a mail clerk and messenger, joining another young man already in the role.
Mail Clerk for Boston’s Best Law Firm
It turned out to be a far more fascinating position than it sounded. Half of the job was sending and receiving mail for the attorneys, which was a complex process involving client account codes and international shipping rules. The attorneys corresponded with clients worldwide, and urgent deliveries sometimes required me to take a taxi straight to Logan Airport to hand a package directly to an airline for same-day or next-day delivery.
I became a regular at the main Boston Post Office and often ran packages up to attorneys’ assistants in their offices, discreetly giving Auntie Norma a quick “hello” when I passed her desk.
Messenger for Boston’s Best Law Firm
The messenger work was even better. I got to roam all over Boston, delivering legal documents — often for signature — to clients in high-rise offices. Many receptionists were young and attractive, and, to my surprise, some of them flirted with me. I was still young and naive enough that most of the banter went over my head, but it certainly made the job more enjoyable.
Bean Town Attractions
First of all, I love Boston. There is the hustle and bustle of a city of businesses, restaurants, and tourists. It’s a city with trees and water. I love the waterfront and the Boston Harbor. I love walking in the Boston Public Gardens. Then, we have the history going back to the Pilgrims, the Boston Tea Party, the Old North Church, the American Revolution, the USS Constitution. Boston has over 70 colleges and universities — it’s the Hub of Education. It’s beautiful, exciting and entertaining.
Messenger Job Comes with Freedom and Independence
Another aspect I loved was the freedom and independence. I was outside, on my own, crisscrossing downtown Boston — a city that’s as beautiful as it is fascinating. I ate wherever I wanted, usually at one of my favorite little dives. Spent my lunch breaks doing two of my favorite things: eating outdoors and people-watching.
People Watching in Downtown Boston
Boston’s North End (Little Italy)
Boston’s neighborhoods offered an endless mix of cultures and cuisines. This was easily one of the best summer jobs I’d ever had. No cutting onions, mowing lawns, or loading trucks. Just me sitting by the Boston Harbor waterfront with an Italian cold-cut sandwich from the North End (Little Italy), a canoli from Modern Pastry, a cold Coca-Cola, and a steady stream of beautiful young women. Boston is filled with tourists and office workers alike — passing by in the summer sunshine.
One day, an attorney came into the mailroom with a file folder to deliver. A woman whose name and address was on the document inside. I was to get her signature and return the document to him. I said, “Yes, sir!” — until I looked at the address. It was on Wall Street in New York City.
I asked him how exactly I was supposed to do that. He pointed to the client code on the envelope and told me to take it to Accounting. There, they’d arrange a round-trip flight to New York and provide taxi vouchers for both cities. Suddenly, this was no ordinary delivery.
Eastern Shuttle to LaGuardia
I collected my tickets and vouchers, grabbed the package, and hailed a cab to Logan Airport. I flew the Eastern Shuttle to LaGuardia, took a cab into Manhattan. Then, rode the elevator dozens of floors up to a sleek Wall Street office.
There, I met the executive assistant of the woman I was delivering to — a poised professional in her forties wearing a navy skirt suit and crisp white blouse. She was warm and chatty, signed the document, and thanked me for “flying in for business.”
I retraced my route: elevator down, cab to LaGuardia, shuttle back to Boston, and taxi to Boston’s Best Law Firm. The attorney thanked me, then asked, “Where did you eat in Manhattan?”
When I said I hadn’t eaten there, he laughed. “Of course you’re allowed! Just save the receipt and we’ll bill it to the client.” From that day on, any time I was sent on a long-distance run, I made sure to enjoy a meal on the client’s dime.
Road Trip to Rhode Island
Another notable assignment came when a young attorney handed me a package bound for a client in Rhode Island. He told me to rent a car and drive it there, and I had to sheepishly admit I was only nineteen — too young to rent a car in Massachusetts. Without missing a beat, he turned to his secretary and said, “Why don’t you rent the car and go with him?”
Minutes later, I was heading out the door with the documents and the most beautiful assistant in the firm — long, silky strawberry-blonde hair in a bun, bright blue eyes, and a smile that could disarm anyone. She was younger than most of the secretaries but still older than me, and I could tell she was amused by my awkwardness.
She rented the car, and we drove south. After the meeting, she suggested we grab dinner before heading back. The attorney had already said expenses were covered, so I gladly agreed. Dinner was great — relaxed and easy — until she completely blindsided me. “It’s really late,” she said casually. “We should just get a hotel together and spend the night. It’ll be on the client.”
Back to the Mailroom in Boston
For one electrifying moment, my nineteen-year-old brain didn’t know whether to panic or celebrate. Despite my obvious interest, the Notre Dame Catholic boy in me took over and I blurted out something about needing to get back to Boston to “take care of the mail.”
It was a long, awkward, and humiliating drive back. She said little, and I could almost hear her thinking, This poor clueless kid. To this day, it remains one of those missed opportunities I still kick myself for. Oh, to be young — and far less naive — again.
Back at Nana & Papa’s in Medford
Being back in Medford meant slipping right into the old family rhythms. I’d watch Nana in the kitchen, moving with practiced ease over pots of simmering sauce. Papa would be at his Singer sewing machine, the rhythmic thunk-thunk-thunk of the needle keeping time with the sound of his talk radio. My mother and the aunties would gather at the dining room table, chatting in the warm, familiar voices I’d grown up with.
My sisters and I played on the front and back porches, or in the narrow stairway that led up to the attic bedrooms. A nickel from Nana or my godfather was enough to send me running to the corner store for a little brown bag of penny candy; with a bit more change, I might splurge on a cup of Italian Ice.
Fun with the Pietrantonis
Auntie Cynthia was dating an endocrinologist who lived downtown, and she was forever trying to get someone to drive her into the city at night to see him. Whenever I was home, I’d see my godfather, Uncle George, and on Sundays Uncle Aldo would stop by, play a quick tune on the piano, and eat a meatball before heading off again. I also saw my godmother, Auntie Yole — my mother’s oldest sister — and her four boys.
Shopping at Downtown Crossing
Now that I was familiar with Boston from my messenger work, I felt confident enough to hop on the bus and trolley downtown on my own. I’d wander through Filene’s Basement, Jordan Marsh, and the Jewelers Building in Downtown Crossing, window-shopping for something special for Mariann. I finally decided on a necklace, and — thinking like the college man I imagined myself to be — I also bought her a silk nightgown. In my mind, it seemed exactly the kind of gift a young gentleman should give his special girl back at school.
Time for Family to Move to Carlisle Barracks
Soon, mid-August arrived, and it was time for my mother and younger sisters to move into government quarters at Carlisle Barracks, Pennsylvania.
My father had already begun his program at the U.S. Army War College and was temporarily staying with some college students until our quarters were ready. I packed up the Chrysler Cordoba for my mother, and we drove my sisters down to Carlisle to meet my father and settle into their new home on post.
Lynne and Diana Remain in Boston to Study
Lynne was already working one of her nursing co-op assignments at Northeastern University. Diana had completed her Associate’s Degree at Endicott College and chose to remain in Boston to continue her studies at the Forsyth School of Dental Hygiene.
Time to Return to South Bend
As for me, I turned my sights westward once again, heading back to South Bend, Indiana, to begin my junior year at the University of Notre Dame. I was happy because I earned enough to pay my Room & Board for Notre Dame, plus I was able to purchase things to spruce up my dorm room and had them mailed to me at the university.
