PINE NUTS – Luigi
August 30, 2024 | McAvoy Lane
Four vibrant, wholesome young kids in their thirties came by yesterday asking if I would take them on a hike, and share some Tahoe history. I was honored of course, and cautioned them that we would be on a mission. They agreed to be my foot soldiers, and up we trekked, toward Crystal Bay Point…
Along the way I described a regal character in Tahoe history, who lived and died not far from our destination, the former fire lookout atop Crystal Bay. They brought a sprightly dog along which made the sojourn even more pleasant…
So I filled their imaginations with this loveable character, Luigi, a man about their own age, who resided in the Village of Incline away back in the sixties, worked at Kings Castle, and roomed with another wonderful character by the name of Bob.
One sunny Tahoe afternoon Bob arrived home in a state of excitement and shared the good news with Luigi…
“Guess what, Dude? The fire department is testing tomorrow morning for two openings in the force. What say we set our alarm and get over there at six-thirty and give it a try?”
Luigi jumped in with both feet, and they discussed what they might like to purchase when they received their first paychecks.
When the alarm went off Bob jumped up and was out the door. He would be hired by Incline’s finest as a snubber, raise a family, and retire after 35 years in the force with a nice pension. Luigi, meanwhile, slept in, eventually taking a job tending bar at Lefty O’Doul’s in San Franscisco, where he became a popular personality, and celebrated that fact each night when he got off work at two.
I asked my young friends to pick some wildflowers as we wound our way toward the summit. We stopped at the Mark Twain interpretive sign, where I started to speak…
“Luigi, you led a vigorous life, and became the most popular barkeep in the City by the Bay. You were loved by all, and you loved back just a little too hard. Mom always said I was her Coocoo Boy, and you were her Pride & Joy. And I always knew you would be mayor of San Francisco one day, but God wanted you more. The little rabbit that resides here amongst your ashes seems to have inherited your bravery as he just stared down our dog. You made the world a better place when your candle was burning bright, and you still imbue a warm glow in my heart. May you rest comfortably there in eternal peace.”
And we tossed our wildflowers onto the snow-swept, heaven-bound ashes of my little brother, Luigi…