Cover photo for Edwin Galasso's Obituary
Edwin Galasso Profile Photo
In Memory Of
Edwin Galasso
1932 2020

Edwin Galasso

October 4, 1932 — January 19, 2020

My father was born on October 4, 1932 in Bergen County, NJ to Ella Williams and Nicholas Galasso. He had 6 siblings: Madeleine, Richie, Junie, Nicholas, Bruce, and Glenn. He was born right in the midst of the Great Depression. He would tell us if he they took the wrong thing out of the fridge his father would have to go to work with no lunch. He would be sent to the store for fresh bread and nibble on the end of the loaf on the way home and before he got home he would turn the loaf around in the bag to hide the eaten part. By the time his mother put the bread out on the table she would blame someone else for eating the end off.

They did without a lot. So he learned to hustle a buck at a very young age. By the time he was a teenager he had made enough money on the streets to buy his own dad his very first car. He learned how to turn nickels into quarters fast. Getting whatever he could off the boats at the docks for cost and marking it up to sell on the streets of west New York, which is in NJ by the way. He grew up with James Braddock's (the Cinderella Man) kids, Tommy Hiensohn of the Boston Celtics who was born in NJ City. Ran into the likes of Frank Sinatra from Hoboken NJ, Jerry Lewis from Newark NJ, which who he referred to Jerry as a Jackoff. He beat up Frank Nitti's son Joseph Nitti with a pipe wrench one time when he was working at a gas station.

As he got older he was drafted into the army for the Korean war. He became a 101st screaming eagle airborne ranger, and also a 82nd Airborne Division, because it paid $50 more a month. The 82nd Airborne Division is an airborne infantry division of the United States Army, specializing in parachute assault operations into denied areas with a U.S. Department of Defense requirement to respond to crisis contingencies anywhere in the world within 18 hours. The 101st Airborne Division is a specialized modular light infantry division of the US Army trained for air assault operations.

He came back to NJ after serving and one night at a party in New York, him and his Irish buddy Maddie decided to pack their stuff and drive out to California. I believe in an old Studebaker. He stopped in Wyoming and met Nona Bull. They had 3 kids: Daniel, Michael, and Lynnel. He ended up moving to Denver, he met my mother Linda Luna and they had me, Richie Galasso and my brother Todd Stroh. He was a big fish in a little pond.

He became a chef at the Hungry Dutchman which is now Landry's in DTC. He got Reed Pasco his start who opened the Briarwood inn, along with Ed Novack who opened the brokers. He helped put a lot of people in business and even put a few out of business like Swift's, Columbine Steak House, Marc's, Gryos Place, the Golden Ox, the Sports Field and others. He ran Greek Town, the Mile High Kennel Club, and East Colfax for years. Frequented many of Denver's social clubs. Rubbed elbows with the Smaldones, the Falbos, Tont Cicarelli, Big Mike Mora, the Nose, Jay Melnick, Pete Kontos, Black Pete Latsis, Anthony (Snooky) Acierno, Johnny Galanis and many of Denver's big named, but you don't know me names in Denver.

He taught me and many of you all how to hustle a buck, or he would show you how to get, or give you what you needed to get by. From a car to a bicycle to a job, or even the name of the person you needed to talk to. He was always there to help me fix my car instead of paying a mechanic. He had something for making sure the people he cared for had wheels, in many ways. There wasn't a jam that he couldn't get you out of as long as you didn't bullshit or try to lie to him.

When I was young his day went something like this. Get up, not too early. Send me to get him the program for the greyhound races. Soak in the tub for an hour or so while handicapping his bets for the day. We would go the Greek Town on East Colfax, or to Detroit service gas station. Go have breakfast at Sambo's or Gryos Place, then off to the dog track for the matinee. Back to Greek Town to the Social Club for craps or the card game. Which could have been in the basement of a TV repair shop, a Greek pastry shop, or a window covered establishment. About 6:30 we would go back to the dog track for the night races, which kids weren't allowed. So I got to watch through the fence or listen to the radio in the car. After the races we'd go home. I seen him collect money people owed him and if they didn't have it he'd take their watches or jewelry or whatever they had of value. The Greeks would get mad when they lost in the card or dice games, rip up their money, and throw it on the table. He would make them pay him with whole bills and gather up the ripped up cash and give it to me to tape back together. I would go to the bank and get new 20s, 50s and even 100s sometimes. Everywhere we went we were treated like we owned the place. It was like he had more pull than the actual guys who owned it. They called him Fast Eddie cause he was always one or two steps ahead of everyone. Hell he even won our house in a card game which I'm sure he rigged. But enough of that.

He wasn't an affectionate dad, he wasn't a hug you and tell you he loved you type of Dad. Hell, he wasn't Mr. Positive either. He was hard, and never sugar coated anything. He was direct and to the point. He wasn't gonna pat you on the back and hold you hand and tell you it was gonna be alright. He was gonna show you how to make it right. Or say "What ? are you friggen stupid?" and then tell you what you did wrong. He didn't make anytime for bullshit or people who would lie to him. He was a very intimidating presence in any room, but he loved us and had his own way of showing it. It was hard to get two words out of him, but his 4 favorite words were "your full of shit," and 90% of the time you were full of shit. Some people didn't like his ways, but they sure knew where to go when they needed something. Cars, washers, dryers, refrigerators, furniture, tires, help fixing something, building something or getting rid of something. He lived life on his own terms. He was a man of his own means. He didn't answer to anyone. I never got the I love you's, or the hugs, or the hey man I'm proud of you talks, but I got what I needed, and the red carpet treatment all over town. I got the knowledge, the wisdom, and the street smarts that he taught me. I got straightened out when I needed it. He taught me how to be a real man and not to be shady, a jive, or try to bullshit people I had a roof over my head and never went hungry like he did when he was a kid, and not to mention a lot of really cool stuff, one of a kind memories, and most importantly... I got to be there when he took his last breath. I got to tell him I loved him even though I never heard it. I got to tell him "Pops, go rest easy I got this here now, go in peace."

He will never be forgotten, there will never be another like him, and he will live in our hearts and memories forever. He's wherever we pass onto, getting the ins and outs from the ones who have gone before him on how to run the next place. He's paving the way for us so we can have it made there, and I will be grateful when I get there and at peace until I do. The world has lost trailblazer, a self made man, and a leader of men. A man great books are written about. You did it your way Pops. Definitely your way. REST IN PEACE FAST EDDIE GALASSO!!!

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