Eugene J. Caruso was one of seven children, originally from the Bedford-Stuyvesant section of Brooklyn, NY. They grew up in a Brownstone with relatives on each floor just like in the movie, Moonstruck. His parents then moved their family of nine to the Catskill Mountains in New York State.

He attended school up until the eighth grade. It was then he started working and giving his paychecks to his mother. They started the, “Caruso Villa” in upstate New York and he took odd jobs around town when not fixing up or working at the hotel.

Later in life he was an Arthur Murray dance instructor. When not teaching, he taught women how to waltz at various parties. He often waltzed in our kitchen with my mother. Some of my best memories!

He fought in the Korean War. When I’d ask him about it, he’d tell me he was on the clean up crew.

One of his jobs upstate was as maitre’ d and head bartender at the police camp. My mom says when she saw him, she knew he was the one, and told her grandma that night. They came to Las Vegas on their honeymoon and never moved back. Their priest asked them if they would accept any children God had for them and they said yes. Even adopting my sister, Suzy Q after her parents both passed away.

My dad was so funny! He’d read the morning paper and get ideas for jokes a la Johnny Carson. He was a bartender at the Stardust Hotel across from the Sports Book for 31 years. He had regular customers who would plan their vacations to spend time with him at his bar. One time, a famous comedian sat at his bar, then gave him and my mom comped seats to his show. My dad was tickled when the comedian used all of his jokes on stage.

He built us a forever home with his own hands. When the wood was delivered, it was supposed to rain. He and my mom prayed it wouldn’t rain on the wood. My sister Mary reminded me that it only rained on half of our street, and didn’t wet the wood! She said we danced in the rain, then jumped to the other side of the street where there wasn’t rain, dancing back and forth, rejoicing in the miracle! He and his siblings had sold Caruso Villa, and regretted not having a place to go back to over the years. So with his self taught knowledge, him and his friends built our 3800 square foot home. And he bought me another pool. He had bought the land from our neighbor, and a coworker gave him the blueprints. I helped him cut the wood for our pantry shelves. He was amazing.

He loved golf! He played weekly on his days off. There’s a plaque commemorating him at the Boulder City golf course where he was a Marshall.

When they moved to Las Vegas he worked as a bar back and a cab driver to make ends meet and support his growing family. Back then, casinos had a public announcement system to page guests. He told me he’d page himself after he applied for the bartender position. He’d hear, “Eugene Caruso to the front desk” or, “Eugene Caruso to the Lido deck” He said when he went in for his interview, they said, “Eugene Caruso? Sounds very familiar!” He was very smart!

He had a lovely singing voice. When we’d have nightly family prayer time, he’d sing so wonderfully. I’d rest my head on his big belly and listen to his stomach gurgle. My favorite thing to do. He used to sing, “There she is! Miss America!” To me often. He stopped singing when he got older. He lost his voice completely when the cancer came. He went from a large, tall man to a skinny ghost of himself. He told me not to visit from college, but to remember him as he was. Of course I didn’t listen. That was the first time my heart was truly broken. This man, who built me an in ground pool because doctors said it was the best therapy for me. This man who would always see the best in everything and everyone. His humor didn’t come with severe barbs that left you feeling less than. There was always a compliment sewn in. He left you feeling good about yourself. Always clean jokes. He didn’t tolerate anything torrid.

I remember him comforting me when I broke up with my fiancé. He gave me the biggest hug and spoke words of love and comfort. When I moved to New York shortly after, he noticed I sounded depressed. He knew from my voice. He was so good to me.

His faith was very strong. He was head usher at St. Viator’s Church for many years. He served faithfully at the 5:00 mass, and donated generously to their new building fund. His name is preserved on their book of donors that hangs in the vestibule. He always said he had to pray about things before making any decisions. And he always said he had to see a man about a horse when he didn’t want us in his business.

He bought me a car to share with my sister Rachel when I was seventeen. I loved that 1985 Buick! It was a sofa on wheels. He’d always tell us, “Remember that you’re a Caruso!” whenever we’d leave the house. Cancer took him home to Jesus on March 16, 1997. We visited him in the hospital, singing worship songs around his bed. The nurses said they’d never seen anything like it. When it got closer to the end, he was glowing and smiling and said, “Jesus! You’re so beautiful!” I sat at his feet giving him a foot massage like I’d do nightly after he was on his feet all day. My sisters would, too! He’d say, “Grab a foot!” At the end, he held my brother Paul’s hand and my brother said he felt a surge of electricity when he left the earth.

I couldn’t be prouder to have had such an amazing dad. This song forever reminds me of that moment before he died when he saw a vision of Jesus.

And we sang this song at his bedside-

Love,

Tisa