… and his family’s cottage on Crocus
by Meg Corcoran
As told by Frank Fitzpatrick per
e-mail to The Sun…
It was the late ‘70s, more than a decade after we’d graduated from Cardinal O’Hara High. My pal Jack McCaffrey and his wife were having dinner with us at our North Wildwood summer place on Delaware Avenue. As we often did, we got to reminiscing about our days at O’Hara. Both of us mentioned Mr. Grillo, an eccentric and egotistical but ultimately lovable English teacher.
After dinner, Jack and I walked across the street to Pat’s Deli for ice cream and a local paper. We stopped in our tracks when we saw the story on Page 1 of the Wildwood Leader. It was a feature on our Mr. Grillo, whom they dubbed “the poet laureate of Wildwood.” He was mustachioed now, clutching a pipe and wearing a beret. Over ice cream, we laughed about this incredible moment of serendipity.
Not long afterward, my sister, who had dinner with us, asked me to drive her back to her place in Wildwood Crest. Jack came along for the ride. We talked about Mr. Grillo and the newspaper story the entire trip. Nearing our destination, I found a parking spot in front of old beach cottage.
As my sister exited, I glanced up at the porch. And there, I swear, seated in an Adirondack chair was Mr. Grillo in the flesh.
We spoke for a while, and we all laughed at the night’s miraculous coincidences. He was pleased to know that, as a newspaper reporter, I was now writing for a living. He said he was still teaching at West Catholic, I think, and writing lots of poetry. He promised to send me some. Then, knowing we’d probably never meet again, we shook hands heartily, said our goodbyes and departed. . .
A few years ago in 2013, as I sat in a West Philadelphia church and listened to the guitar player who performed throughout Mr. Grillo’s funeral, I thought again about that long-ago summer night when my friend and I managed to summon up a little Wildwood magic.
P.S. I was a Philadelphia Inquirer writer for 40+years. Way back when we had a Sunday magazine, I wrote a short item on that night. Mr. Grillo happened to read it and wrote a kind letter to the editor in response.
The serendipity continued following Frank’s email. It was the week before Christmas when editor, Dorothy immediately thought of her Instagram friend Claire Grillo and wondered if they were related. Claire had initially contacted Dorothy a few years ago in response to a post and picture of beautiful old beach cottage in the Crest. Upon reaching out to Claire, she realized she was, in fact, Mr. Grillo’s daughter. Dorothy shared Frank’s e-mail with her and connected them.
The serendipitous moment felt like the magic of Christmas and the best gift in the truest sense of the word, especially for Mr. Grillo’s daughters.
The above painting of the cottage on Crocus was created by a neighbor who gifted it to the Grillo girls
For the Grillo sisters, the home their great-grandfather built in 1927 was more than a house… it was the heartbeat of their summers, a place where the rhythm of the sea became part of who they are.
Like many legacy homes, its story changed with time. The passing of loved ones, along with the complexities that sometimes follow, made it impossible for those traditions to continue.
It’s a reality quietly shared by many families… where love for a place remains, even when the ability to return does not…. a place that continues to live on in memory, in dreams, and in the quiet longing that returns with each new summer.
Still, the imprint of those years endures. The salt air, the sun-soaked days, the feeling of belonging to something timeless… these are things no circumstance can take away.
119 West Crocus Road Wildwood Crest, circa 1946~ Young Paul Grillo is sitting on his Dad’s lap, to his left are grandparents Paul and Rita Grillo. Behind them, left to right, are his maternal grandparents, Joe and Jenny Lucci, and his great-grandmother, Raffaela Andreucci. On the lower steps are his aunt (his Mom’s sister) and her husband, Aunt Eleanor and Uncle Salvie Villani.
The house and garage were built by the Lucci and Andreucci families.
Where the tide still calls, their laughter lingers in the salt air, carried on a breeze that has never quite forgotten them. Summer days unfolded in sun-warmed moments… the rhythm of waves keeping time with a life both simple and full.
Paul and Joan Grillo, with their girls by their side, lived the kind of days that never ask to be remembered, yet somehow never fade. The tide rolls in, the tide rolls out… and somewhere between heaven and earth, those golden hours remain, forever held in the heart of a place that still calls them home.
by Dorothy Kulisek
OBITUARY Paul B. Grillo, Jr.
(July 22, 1943 – August 28, 2013) was a lifelong Philadelphian and lifetime Wildwood Crest summer resident. He was a teacher for 40+ years, teaching English Lit at both high school and college levels in Philadelphia, including Cardinal O’Hara and West Catholic High School for Boys and St Joseph’s Preparatory School. He was an Academic Advisor at Temple University’s Tyler School of Art. At heart, he was a poet and a true artist, inspiring his students during courses such as “Poetry and Rock,” discussing the works of Springsteen and Dylan alongside the prose of classical poets and writers.
The author of five works in print, Mr. Grillo made it a point to write a poem every day. He had a profound effect on the lives of his students, always encouraging them to remain true to themselves.