Edward Gigante life on Taylor Street- Valerie Gigante

My father, Edward Carmen Gigante, was born in 1935, the son of immigrants from Fuorigrotta and Saviano, Naples, Italy.

Chicago was still wearing the shadow of the Depression, but on Taylor Street… the air was alive. He was born on 1027 w. Taylor street and later moved to 718 Aberdeen.

At just eight years old, my father had thick blue-black hair, olive skin, and glossy eyes that could charm a crowd without a single word.

One night at the Catholic Youth Organization—better known as the CYO—he stepped up to the microphone and sang “That Lucky Old Sun.” By Frankie Laine. The crowd absolutely went wild! They wondered who is this kid? he sounded just like Frankie Laine. No one could believe a kid that small could have a voice that big. Everyone wanted to be his friend.

Soon after, Eddie wandered over to Sheridan Park, giving a girl a push on the swings.

That’s when the neighborhood’s coolest guys came strutting up—Pat “Patsy” Scudiero, Anthony “Tony” Raso, and Johnny “Scorch” Travola.

“Come with us, Eddie!” They said

He left the swing—girl and all—and never looked back.

That day, he found the best friends of his entire life.

When Eddie was nine, his father Ciro—who everyone called Jerry—passed away at 7:18 p.m. from lung cancer at 38 years old.

The very same number as their home—718 Aberdeen.

His mother, Philomena Gigante, was suddenly a widow raising two young boys.

As Eddie grew into his teens, his friends and him ruled the gangways of Taylor Street. The buildings were so close together that they would actually leap from building to building, like Spider-Man before anyone had even drawn him.

As they got older, their style got sharper.

Their hair grew taller and slicker—they had huge pompadours that gave them their famous group name: “The Comb-Your-Hair Gang.” In fact, they always carried steel combs in their pockets to comb their thick mountainous hair.

Meanwhile Eddie’s mother—Philomena Gigante, my beautiful grandmother— would disappear for hours, sometimes days, cooking her famous pasta fazool among others for the all-night poker game run by the men people only whispered about—who gave Taylor Street its legend.

And I, Valerie Gigante came along a lot later in life for him, I was born in the 80’s and he was born in the 30’s. That was Taylor Street in my father’s youth— filled with music, great food, mischief, sometimes pain, and of course family.