The Linkatarian

  O utside, the Syracuse winter winds howled off the lake, but the back room of the Solvay Tigers' hall was a furnace of life. Steam from the kitchen, manned by Louie Letizia and Peter Pecora, carried the scent of simmering meatballs, red sauce, and cavatelli into every corner of the room. That aroma was the Tigers' hall. It meant the cards were about to be dealt.   This was the Pitch tournament, and in Solvay, Pitch was never just a card game. It was the pulse of the village. Millwrights and welders from Allied Chemical sat shoulder-to-shoulder with businessmen and local leaders.  Beyond those walls, paychecks and titles dictated who you were.  But deal a hand of Pitch, set a plate of Louie's cooking in front of a man, and suddenly everybody was just one of the guys. Look at who was at that table. Rocco "Rocky" Pirro had played in the NFL for the Steelers and the Bills, served on the Town Board, sat in the New York State Assembly.  For more than two decades he...

  I nside the Alpine-style chalet on Lamont Ave, Friday night was loud. The Tyrol Club had anchored Solvay since 1929, and crossing the threshold of the 1950s hall felt like stepping out of the shadow of the soda ash plant and straight into the Trentino Alps. The sharp scent of Louis Nicolini’s Salamini cut through the noise.  Louie, who ran cranes at the Solvay Process plant until the gates chained shut in '86, was pacing near the microphone, waiting to call bingo.  But before he picked it up, he slipped into the back room to check on the real work. A crew of men crowded around a massive 15-gallon copper paiolo, taking turns throwing their weight against the triese—a heavy, canoe-like wooden paddle.  They had to keep the thick farina, water, and salt moving for forty-five straight minutes to make the polenta.  It was shoulder-burning labor, but these were men accustomed to sweating through a shift, suitably "lubricated" tonight by a few unmarked bottles of...

  W hen we look back at historical figures, we have a bad habit of sorting them into neat, comfortable boxes.