by Rick Lofaro
This is my best friend Rob Coppolillo.
You know, because he's your best friend too. The tragic news of Rob's passing last week high in the mountains of Canada sent shockwaves around the globe, as a world-wide sensation and beloved gift left us far too soon.
I met Rob and Pete over 40 years ago through a mutual friend at a movie theater one night. We became fast friends, thick as thieves, fratelli forever. Rob and I formed an incredibly deep friendship spanning 4 decades from high school through college and well beyond. He wasn't just like a brother to me, he was my brother. We were different, but the same. We shared a love of all things Italian, especially food, a respect and wonder for the natural world, an obligation to the planet, and a constant desire to excel at life.
The stories....oh I could write a book, but would underwhelm the reader compared to Rob's intellect, wit, vocabulary and unmatched story telling. Here's one for Rob.
Casino Night, circa 1987.
Several of us worked at a local Chicago themed restaurant and pizzeria, however Rob was not an employee. We worked together most Thursdays, and Rob and Pete would come up for the Thursday Night Club. A knock on the back door would initiate the evening for the club, and I would answer and mutter 'leave it to Ricky'. Twenty minutes later we would slide pitchers of soda and over sized calzones we dubbed L.I.T.R. out back and all stuff our teenage faces in delight. One night the restaurant hosted a mock Casino Night. Fuelled by little squares of Chicago pizza, stromboli, fried mozzarella and light beer, we ran the tables and swiped fake cash like a bunch of 17 year-olds in a gangster mockumentary. The hours of debauchery culminated in Rob miraculously positioned off the front! Somehow he made it to the final winning round of blackjack and had the balls to step up. We compiled our 'winnings ' by stealing as much Monopoly money throughout the night and gave it all to our hero to ride to victory. And just like that, Rob won!
The loot - a bottle of crap Italian red, gym shorts and wrist bands fashion accessories, and a stolen 3 pound bag of starlight peppermint discs sure to combat the night's garlic, beer and grease.
The photo - Pete was sober enough to drive the snow packed roads that night in the Toyota Landcruiser FJ 42 we affectionately called 'the Mule'. He was taking a photography class and happened to have his 35 mm SLR with him. Squatting in the middle of the road in the middle of the night amidst the halo of light projected by the headlights, Rob and I laughed until we tipped over backwards. Pete judiciously captured the moment, which is to this day his finest work.
The memory - forever. Forever grateful for the blessing of Rob.
Thank you to everyone for your outpouring of of love and support for Rebel, Dom and Luca, Cathy, Pete and the extended family.
