Happy Birthday Rocky Marciano

By John Cameron: Eighty-seven years ago today Rocky Marciano was born, as tribute the following excerpt from Redemption: The Life & Death of Rocky Marciano celebrates that day:

(This chapter is preceded by the story of his parents, Pierino and Pasquelana   Marchegiano's meeting and marriage.)

Book One, Chapter two:                                                                                                                                                  

Hail to the Champ

 “Figlio Mia, Figlio Mia, Corra de mama!”
                     (My Son, My Son, heart of my life! - Trans.)       

                                                                                   Pasqualena Marchegiano

The newlyweds quickly settled into their fresh life together, forgoing the usual tradition whereby young married couples usually moved in with with family until they found their feet this pair decided to set out on their own, first finding themselves a small, modest apartment on the corner of Warren Avenue, not far from the heart of the Italian district of Brockton, with its wealth of food markets and, just as importantly, access to St. Patrick’s church where Pasqualena would regularly pray (they were both devout Catholics). The area was furnished with its own social club, of which Piereno was already a paid up and well regarded member.

Finances were tight, as they would be for several years, thus the couple would forgo a planned Honeymoon to Niagara falls, preferring instead to spend their meager savings on furnishing their new home, Piereno returned to the No. 5 bed-laster machine, the most arduous task at the shoe factory, whilst Pasqualena found herself once again back at the garment factory where she labored sewing buttons on blouses. Life settled into a calm normality, until one day, approximately nine months after their marriage, Pasqualena greeted her husband with the news that she was expecting, both were delighted as each yearned for a large family.

The need for financial security however spurred the naïve expectant mother to continue her work at the factory long past the time she should have been resting, Pasqualena instead continued to toil until barely two-weeks before  delivery was due. To make matters far worse, the fear of being pressured into giving up her job, thereby losing a much needed source of income before she was ready to do so, she concealed her pregnancy by wearing a tight fitting corset in order to restrict the swelling of her expanding belly, this was to have heartbreaking consequences for all the family.

When the child was eventually born, it was to suffer from breathing difficulties, the restrictive corset had, it was believed, prevented the child from developing naturally in the womb, tragically the baby would survive only a few short hours after birth, Pasqualena was distraught forever blaming herself for the loss. The family physician, Dr. Josephat Phanuef on his post-natal inspection of the now grieving mother announced the dire news that in all probability she would not be able to carry again. It was news that was greeted with dismay by the entire family who had congregated about the mournful mother and her husband.

Pasqualena however soon began to display her deep resolve, a tenacity which would be inherited by her famous son. She recovered quickly from the loss, so quickly that her husband was astounded by her capacity, it was decided that, despite the prognosis, they would try again for the child they so desperately sought, so ardent was her desire to be a mother and prove the doctor’s verdict incorrect, “If God want me to have a baby, then I have a baby,” she reflected later. Her stubbornness and faith paid off when, just three months later, she again was to announce to her overjoyed, albeit anxious husband, that once more she was expecting. This time there would be no concealment, as soon as the news was confirmed she gave up her job at the garment factory, and would never return.

At one a.m on the morning of September 1st, 1923, Pasqualena once more began to experience labour pains, Piereno was not at home at this time as he was working the graveyard shift at the factory, beyond communication, thus she called her father who immediately summoned Dr. Phanuef from his slumber to attend to his daughter. The labour would not be a long one, for at two-thirty that morning Pasqualena gave birth to a thirteen-pound baby boy; all present held their collective breath as Dr. Phanuef, and the nurse in attendance checked him over, this time there would be no repeat of the previous years tragedy, for the baby was pronounced strong and healthy. Later that morning, Piereno, oblivious to the nights events, would return to be greeted by the wailing cries of his newborn. The jubilant couple would name their son, as agreed, after Piereno’s own father who had died when Piereno was very young (he had been raised by his grand-mother), that name was Rocco Francis Marchegiano.

Legend maintains that to celebrate the birth of the Marchegiano’s eldest surviving child, they were presented with a card which was decorated with two miniature boxing gloves, the message on the front read, “Hail To The Champ”. Marciano himself later stated however, “One of the first congratulation cards mom got had little boxing gloves hanging on it above a picture of a baby, it said, ‘Welcome to another champion’.” The name of the sender is not recorded, but Piereno would carry the card with him always.

For the first eighteen-months of young Rocco’s life, his parents had no reason to think that they had anything but a strong healthy boy in their beloved son, a son they gave thanks to daily, however it soon became clear that young Rocco was ailing, he began to refuse his food, growing pale and weak, again Dr. Phanuef was called to the small apartment, the prognosis was that Rocco had contracted Pneumonia, his temperature breaking 105.

In those depression hit days when antibiotics were not so readily available this could prove fatal. “Whatsa matter, God no want me to have kids,” Pasqualena wailed as she kneeled before the icon of Saint Anthony that decorated a wall of the apartment, “I give you my ring if you save my son.” She was referring to her diamond engagement ring, the most precious item she owned and which in her desperation had nailed to the wall beside the icon of the saint. Father Langly of  the nearby St. Patrick’s church had even been called upon to perform a small ceremony dedicated to her ailing son’s health, yet still his condition worsened; that is until one fateful day when the family were visited by an elderly relative, a Mrs. Paolina Mangifesti.

This ancient spinster approached the now dangerously frail Rocco, armed with but a small spoon filled only with warm, slightly salted, water, forcing his dry cold lips apart she began to feed him the liquid. To the amazement of all gathered in vigil the child fed. Paolina advised the infants mother to feed him regularly on chicken broth, to force it down his throat if necessary. It worked, Rocco recovered, the first instance of his displaying the kind of fortitude that would be amongst his trade marks later on in life.

 The Marchegiano’s saw the arrival of the elderly relative, who seldom came before that day, as a manifestation of St. Anthony’s aid, and they would forever recall it. Their belief was further cemented in their minds when Pasqualena went to retrieve the ring from its place on the wall in order to donate it to the local church as promised, only to find that the ring had “mysteriously” gone. Rocco was always aware of how close he had come to death as a baby. “As long as I can remember, mama and poppa told me about the good St. Anthony’s intervention saving my life by a miracle.”

Sadly Mrs. Mangifesti herself would pass away shortly after she had proved so incredibly important to the life of young Rocco, never to see the child grow nor know who he was destined to become.                               

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