Eulogy for Anthony Greig Roselli, Sr. (1950-2024)

Remembering Anthony Roselli: a heartfelt tribute, written by his middle son, Anthony Greig Roselli, Jr., to a life woven with New Orleans' spirit, culinary passion, and memorable adventures.

Eulogy

[Greig]: I'd like to share a few thoughts that I penned down in the parking lot. [laughter]

Dad in the 1970s.

Anthony Roselli, a man whose spirit mirrored the vibrancy and resilience of the city he loved. In the past days, driving from Frostop to Airline Motors, I was struck by the transformations — y’all, Airline Motors is now a local branch of the New Orleans fairgrounds; that’s depressing. Can y’all believe that?

I found myself on the levee by the Mississippi River. Pam, remember when I brought you that piece of driftwood from there? The last time I saw my father was in February 2022.

I've only recently come to fully appreciate his impact. A woman on Facebook recalled seeing him regularly at Russell's, expressing her sorrow upon hearing of his passing. He touched lives, often without us even realizing it. At 73, he relished life's simple pleasures and profound depths, especially the culinary delights of New Orleans. From the bustling tables of Russell's Marina Grill to R&O's Restaurant, he was a connoisseur of our city’s flavors.

Like my younger brother Nicholas said, our knowledge of New Orleans cuisine stems from him. From high-end restaurants to the humble Waffle House, he found joy in them all. It seems silly to be moved by memories of Waffle House, but they’re part of the rich tapestry of his life.

My father’s life was a blend of deep roots in New Orleans and adventurous escapades. From humorous run-ins with the Causeway Police to mistaken identity mix-ups during my European student visa application — I’m “Anthony Greig Roselli, Junior, not Senior,” I said. Several altercations during Dad's single nights led to his imprisonment in the Parish jail. I'll let you connect the dots...

Dad certainly brought interesting moments! Despite the distance when I lived in Europe, his calls and texts, often oblivious to time zones, kept us connected. “Dad, it's 3 AM here!” we'd laugh.

His Italian-American heritage infused him with a zest for life, bringing joy to all who knew him. His presence was felt everywhere, from Coffee's Boiling Pot in Madisonville, where I worked as a busboy, where he'd lovingly pester me for refills, to the St. Tammany Parish Public Library, where I also worked after school, he'd proudly announce to everyone in the quiet periodicals section, “I’m searching for my book-shelving son.”

His unwavering support for Nicholas Adam, Brad Michael, and myself was constant. Also, his close relationship with his older sister of nine years — Carol Roselli Fallo.

One of my fondest memories involves his friend Jane LaBarre. Dad took us to City Park, where we met Jane for the first time. I’m sure she thought we were feral cats. And what an adventure that turned out to be — including a daredevil escape from the train ride, much to the ‘amusement’ of everyone, including the police later searching for a "Caucasian male."

My father and I fishing at
Percy Quin State Park (circa 1984).

Dad had a way of turning moments into memories, often accompanied by laughter. But the song 'Cats in the Cradle' – it’s a song that now holds a deeper meaning for me.

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon / Little boy blue and the man in the moon / ‘When you coming home, dad/son?’ ‘I don't know when / But we'll get together then / You know we'll have a good time then.’

[tears]

I was the son who moved away and did my own thing, which I believe was my father's gift to me, albeit a sad yet beautiful one. 

As we bid farewell to Anthony, let's celebrate his life not just with tears but with gratitude. He leaves a legacy in his children, grandchildren — Isabella and Ethan, his beloved family, many cousins, nieces, and nephews, and cherished friends — Susan, Danny, Jerry, Sharon, Michael Arevalo, and many more. His life was a tapestry of joy, love, and laughter, shared generously with all of us.

So, as we gather here, let’s cherish the memories, the laughter, and the love he shared with each of us. Let’s celebrate a life well-lived, a heart well-loved, and a man who will be deeply missed.

Thank you, Dad. We love you, and your spirit will always be with us. Yeah, you right.

[Laughter]

Oh gosh.

N.B.: Dad passed away on Thursday, January 11, 2024. The above eulogy, given on Friday, January 19, 2024, is a text in a slightly modified form. To hear the original eulogy, navigate to SoundCloud, where you can listen to the unvarnished version.

Obituary 

Anthony Greig Roselli, Sr., aged 73, passed away on Thursday, January 11, 2024. Cherished father of Brad Michael Roselli, Anthony Greig Roselli, Jr., and Nicholas Adam Roselli, who is married to Brooke B. Roselli. Beloved best friend of Jane LaBarre and her son Michael Arevalo. He was a devoted brother to Carol R. Fallo, a loving grandfather to Isabella and Ethan, and an uncle to many nieces and nephews. He was a proud retiree from the Shell Oil Company. Anthony will be fondly remembered for the warm friendships he nurtured at Russell's Marina Grill and Dixie Chicken and Ribs, where he was always greeted with open arms. Family, friends, and those who were touched by Anthony's life are warmly invited to join in commemorating his life. The funeral service will be held at Leitz-Eagan Funeral Home on Friday, January 19, 2024, from 1:00 pm to 3:00 pm. To share memories or condolences, please visit Leitz-Eagan Funeral Home.

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Rediscovering Ancient Myths with "Narcissus and Echo" Teaching Resource and Educational Digital Download

In Greek mythology's vast and enthralling realm, two tragic characters stand out, captivating the hearts of students and teachers alike: Narcissus and Echo. These emblematic figures, embodying love, beauty, and vanity, have permeated our culture and language, leaving indelible imprints. To immerse ourselves and our students in their dramatic tale, I have created an educational resource, a comprehensive teaching kit that explores their narrative in engaging and thought-provoking ways.

This resource is not just a static, lifeless document. It is an interactive, vibrant educational tool designed to spark interest and facilitate discussion. With a target audience of middle and high school students, the kit is available as a PDF, Google Slides, and as an Easel Activity and Assessment (exclusive to TpT), offering multiple avenues for engagement.

Educational Digital Downloads Like This One are Available from Stones of Erasmus. 

Feature-Rich Learning Experience

The resource features a meticulously curated three-day lesson calendar with helpful teacher's notes. An intuitive anchor chart detailing key characters and places provides learners with context and geographical understanding of where these tragic Greek youths lived. A map activity brings this historical context to life, setting the stage for the narratives of Narcissus and Echo.

For the heart of the lesson, there are two-story versions of the Narcissus and Echo myth, each provided with a student-friendly reading protocol. The narratives, followed by a 9-count question bank, aid comprehension and promote discussion. A custom note-taking template ensures students actively engage with the material.

To further enrich the lesson, Frayer Model Vocabulary Cards are included. This innovative technique encourages students to explore vocabulary visually, diving deeper into the terms and contextual entries that fit the story.

Active Understanding and Summative Assessment

The learning process doesn't stop there. Half-sheet exit tickets offer a quick way to gauge student understanding at the end of the lesson. Simultaneously, a writing activity serving as a summative assessment challenges students to write a detailed five-paragraph essay exploring the characters of Echo and Narcissus.

A further reading list, often mistaken as merely a bibliography, provides a wealth of additional resources for those wanting to delve deeper into the myth. Whether for additional assignments or individual exploration, these resources facilitate a more profound understanding and engagement with the tragic tale of Echo and Narcissus.

Teachers will appreciate the included answer keys for all student-facing documents. These keys guide students on what to expect in their written and oral responses.

Integrating the Old with the New

This resource, created with high school students in mind, is an excellent addition to any English Language Arts Mythology unit. It encourages students to discuss beauty, vanity, unrequited love, anthropomorphic personification, and more.

Moreover, this resource can easily be paired with a larger unit on Ovid's Metamorphoses, Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief, Robert Graves's Greek Myths, or Edith Hamilton's Mythology. It supplements a unit on Graeco-Roman Mythology, offering links to full-text primary resources online.

To explore more myths and legends, check out similar resources on the stories of Cupid and Psyche, Zeus and Metis & The Birth of Athena, Apollo and Daphne, and many more lessons included in the Middle and High School Mythology Series.

A Gift of Knowledge

Lastly, I'd like to thank the New York Public Library Digital Collections. They have made a wealth of public domain material available to the public, a generous gift to educators and learners alike.

Discover a new world of ancient tales with this resource, and join me on a journey through the enthralling stories that have shaped human culture and thought. Embark on the path of knowledge at Stones of Erasmus, © 2023 stonesoferasmus.com.

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Photos Taken Near the Bronx River and Two Stories About New York City from Louisianians

In this post, I ask two family members from Louisiana to give their impressions of New York City. These are their responses.

In this photograph, I am
waiting for the Q44 bus in the Bronx,
right next to the Bronx River.

A New York City subway train
traverses the Bronx River.

When I asked my school-aged nephew what he thought about New York, he replied: “I think that it's like very crowded and a lot of people like foods there and the best place is probably the pizza. And it's probably the best food. Thank you for your time, everybody.”

And then, I asked him to imagine what the city smelled like and felt like (using sensory details): “New York is fun and stinky and interesting, like a hot dog.”

When I asked my seventy-something-year-old aunt what people in Louisiana think about New York, she told me a story: “Greig, I would say they think it's too dangerous, but when I went to New York with Uncle Raymond in 1993, that's the only place that I was able to go out at night shopping. Even in New Orleans, even when we lived in Chalmette, I couldn't go out at night shopping. Oh my God. I forgot how many years ago. That was probably twenty-odd years ago. But in New York, I could go shopping. We had a hotel near Times Square, So I was able to go up and down that street without any restrictions in the middle of the night. Do you know? And, um, you know, I never go at night, and Uncle Raymond never let me go anyplace at night.”

Photos (L) Three kids walk past a bus stop In the Bronx. (R) A sign advises against littering, but someone left an informative note.

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Book Face: Pharaoh Amasis of Two Egypts Holding Court in Memphis on the Nile River

I’m a high school English and Ethics teacher. Sometimes I’m tired of being a grownup so I play with the book faces in my school’s modest library. Today, I’m covering an ancient pharaoh from ancient Egypt. Also, today is National Shelfie Day.

I'm Amasis, a pharaoh of Egypt.

Standing in the @gardenschoolnyc library serving up some Egyptian Pharaoh realness as Amasis, ruler of Two Egypts - where I’m holding court in Memphis on the River Nile. Who or what am I pointing to? The god Horus has sent me a sign - a golden slipper so bright that every maiden in Egypt must try it on. P.S. Thanks @joellegarcia__  for snapping the photo for this epic Book Face photo.

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New York City Subway Stories: 231 Street Station

Previous

A Stopover in Kingsbridge
The Broadway local stations in the northern Bronx between Westchester County and Manhattan are elevated, reminiscent of the old els that populated most of the city before the inception of the subways at the turn of the century. Here in Kingsbridge, I can sort of get the feel of how the city used to be — sort of — I can imagine none of these buildings around me exist and instead there are rolling fields and hills that punctuate the countryside when this line was originally built. For my subway car reading, I've been diving into New York City Subway history. In one book, The City Beneath Us: Building the New York Subway, I recently checked out from the Mid-Manhattan Branch library, depicts the 238 and 231 street stations. The pictures are eerie snapshots from the past. The difference in setting is striking. But the elevated train remains the same. I am on a time machine. The structure of the stations are unchanged. The same Swiss Chalet façade adorns the front (here it is inviting white!) and the steel infrastructure is unchanged in appearance. The difference is the emptiness that surrounds the Broadway local train. I can close my eyes and return to this spot a hundred years ago. Perhaps I am a Manhattan father with two children and a wife. We move north to escape the chaos of downtown and the typhoid and tuberulosis of lower Manhattan tenement living. Here, it must have felt like a spacious Western dream. "Don't fence me in!" The first train passengers more than a hundred years ago probably did not imagine the extent of urbanization New York would undergo. Or maybe they did. Because it did not take long for this area to rapidly acquire buildings and concrete. At one time, though, a cow could have taken a dump right here on the extent of concrete below me. A horse could have been crushed by a drunken driver in a Ford — right here. I take a swig from my Orangina and a tiny Dominican woman offers me a smile.

Northern Manhattan and north of the Harlem river still retain vestiges of the old that most of lower Manhattan has buried. The trains are still elevated, not below the ground; and the streets beckon an old-world feel. Even the name of this neighborhood, Kingsbridge, is antiquated, not Dutch obviously, but a New England name that fits comfortably alongside New York. Kingsbridge, New York. The name is lyrical. The space begs people to notice its own origins. Banners affixed to poles in the street cry out, visit Kingsbridge, "It's all under the bridge!" Instead of cows and horses, the sound of ladies softly alighting their feet on grass, I hear the rush of cars emanating from the Major Deegan Expressway, not far from where I stand, which snakes through the Bronx north-south. I am not really sure what Kingsbridge refers to, perhaps a bridge that once existed here but no longer stands. A quick Wikipedia search concludes that a bridge did stand here but it was covered up and replaced by the Duivet-Spuivel canal. For some reason I think of Neil Gaiman’s novel Neverwhere, of an alternate universe in the London Underground and imagine if Gaiman had written the novel here, Kingsbridge would have to serve as some magical portal to New York’s own Neverwhere. Maybe Van Cortlandt Park to the north would be a faun's playground. I think for a second how fun it would be to write a novel about the subways of New York as a fantasy. Gaiman might sue though. I put my idea on a cupboard in my brain. I can figure out my own creative slant. I'm sure of it.

Interacting with Locals and an Encounter with the Police
After asking her a few questions, which at first startles her, a middle-aged black woman carrying a leather satchel and an umbrella tells me Kingsbridge is a nice place. She points in the direction of Broadway and says something to me about the canal that was dug that replaced the original Kingsbridge. I tell her thank you and walk along Broadway. The heat creeps through the streets. The pizza I ate at Mario's still feels heavy in my stomach. I climb the stairs of the elevated platform and find a quite place to jot down notes in my moleskine.

A policeman from the 50th district stops me and asks me not to loiter. Either get on a train or keep moving. He’s polite enough, but there is an unnecessary heightened sense of authority in his voice so I board the Manhattan-bound Broaway local as quickly as possible. Seated on the train again, I remember just yesterday a New York Public Library security guard had asked me in not so kind words to not sit in the stacks to read a book. “Tables are for reading. Get up.”

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Read more stories just like this one in my book of essays "Things I Probably Shouldn't Have Said (And Other Faux Pas)"

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