If Tears Could Build a Stairway  / Jacqueline C. Condatore (Wife)
If tears could build a stariway
and memories a lane, 
I would walk right up to Heaven 
and bring you back again.

My heart still aches with sadness,
and secret tears still flow.
What it meant to love you,
No one can ever know.

But now I know you want me
to mourn for you no more:
To remember all the happy times
life still has much in store.

Since you'll never be forgotten
I pledge to you today -
A hollowed place within my heart
is where you'll always stay. Close

Your music makes my heart sing  / Louise George (Carchedi) (niece)
Uncle Frank introduced me the the wonderful experience of big band music.  I loved it so much, that I hired the band for my 40th birthday party.
This inspired many of my friends to take dance lessons, because they saw how much fun the dancers were having, and they wanted to enjoy themselves like that too.  I bought the CD 'Till Next Time, and loved it.

I thoroughly enjoyed the tribute that the Frankie Condon Orchestra performed at the Kennedy Center, and I purchased Sophisticated Lady.  It is the best CD that I own.  It is such relaxing, beautiful music. It makes my feet want to dance, and it makes my heart sing with joy.

I teach Emotionally Disturbed children at Eastern Middle School.  This is a very challenging job as you can imagine.  I was playing light piano music to set a calm tone in the room, and it helped my students concentrate.  When I played Sophisticated Lady I was amazed at the change in their behavior.  It puts them in a good mood, and allows them to work productively.  These students are easily distracted by the ticking of the clock or other noises that most of us can tune out.  Of all the music that I have played, Sophisticated Lady is their favorite, and the one that allows them to tune out distractions.

Thank you Uncle Frank for the gift of your music.  You'll always have a special place in my heart.
Love,
Louise Close

My Daddy  / Anita Condatore Besmen (Always his little girl )

In the stillness of my heart I reflect to see
those precious moments shared by you and me.
Do you recall that day so many years ago
when you took me for my first experience with horses
and tally ho!
I was so excited, I knew that I could be,
a fantastic rider just like my Daddy!
The stable owner had a spirited horse just off the track.
You left me with my teacher and soared up the hill.
Then you heard hooves a pounding
and turned to your surprise to see
that it was me!
Who needs lessons when you are my Daddy!!!
We also shared the gift of dance, and I was
always thrilled to hear you tell of our
quite unique experience. I was so weary
of going with boys that couldn't or wouldn't dance
that I invited you to escort me to my prom.
Your eyes revealed that special twinkle and you said,
"of course I'll take you to the dance!"
I always dreamed of dancing with Fred Astaire,
but who needs him when my daddy
has just as much flare!!!
We showed them how to cut a rug
as we danced the night away!
"Why they must be professional dancers"
I heard some of them say.

I'll always be your little girl, always dreaming of gliding across the floor so elegantly with my one and only super charming daddy!!!
When I get to heaven will you play Misty for me?

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Thank you Frankie  / Lennie Cujé (friend)

In the name of the Washington Jazz community and in behalf of all the young musicians that got their start, or the older ones that got their restart at “Frankie’s” I want to thank Frank and will always remember him for the many wonderful times we have spent together. As long as I knew him, from the days of the “Spotlight Lounge “in the late

50^ies, to just a few weeks ago, he provided a place for musicians to come together and play together. He will be very much missed. Never to be forgotten.    
Lennie Cujé.                                                                                        

 

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Camping wirh Frank  / Albert Carchedi (Brother in law )
I have known Frank for close to 60 years.  I have worked with him, dined with him, cooked with him, and have experienced many things with him.  I thought I knew everything about him. However, after all of these years, I just discovered that his name was Stafano.

Frank was  jack of all trades, and master of all.  He was a quick study and once he got into an area, he became expert. He was a cabinet maker that became a master builder. He was a musician and became a great band leader. He was a great cook and became a restauratour. He piloted his own plane, operated night clubs. had his own Real Estate business. The only exception to all of this, is that Frank was not a camper. 

When our children were small (Brownies) they asked us to take them on an overnight camping trip.  Frank as he usually did, said "of course." Now Frank's military service was in the Coast Guard, so I had my doubts  I had been in the Army and camping was not one of my favorite activities,  but he prevailed.
Our respective wives were laughing to themselves as they knew we did not know what we were getting into. Kathy, the wise, declined our invitation.   (probably thinking we were crazy)

My daughters Gloria and Toni, and Frank's Anita all took off in Frank's pick-up truck that had a camper cover on the back, for our fun adventure.  The girls wanted no luxury as they wanted to "rough" it like the pioneers they had read about. Frank drove us to a desolate wooded area in Timonium, Maryland.

As we approached the woods, it began to rain.  Now I am not talking drizzle, nor even showers, I am talking Monsoon. We parked in a romote area and the rain was coming down in buckets. The girls said they were hungry. Frank said "the first thing we have to do is build a fire"  I just looked at him.  

I was trying to light wet wood while Frank held a tarp over me so that I could breath in all of the smoke available.  Finally, after forever, the rain abated and I was able to start a small flame.  Now when I say small, I am talking about a flame that you would see in a candle. I am blowing and fanning trying to get it started, when Frank arrives with a  67 gallon cauldren of cold wanter, and sits it down on my candle lignt..  "I will make pasta (what else) as soon as the water boils" said Frank.  I replied that it would take a month to get the water up to 80 degrees.After a few minutes, Frank asked "is it ready?"  I replied with a few choice words, and Frank proceeded to dump about 3 pounds of pasta into the cauldren filled with cold water.  It started to rain again, the children were crying that they were hungry, Frank was in the truck keeping dry, and I would have sold my soul for for a hot cup of coffee. Of course the water never did boil, but the pasta had soaked long enough to soften and get sticky.  We formed the pasta into sticky balls and gave them to the kids, which they devoured. I called them pasta sickles.  Then came the night.

As they wanted to be "real" campers, I brought a tent that I had borrowed for the occasion.   Now you can just imagine what it was like with the Marx brothers  helping the three Stooges trying to put up a tent on wet ground while it was still raining.  Two grown inept men, with three little girls all trying to find the correct pole for the correct place.   Finally it was done.  We were all set for the night and it was getting black dark.  The "pioneers" decided that they did not want to sleep on the wet ground, so they slept in the back of the truck.  Frank slept in the front of the truck.  That left me to sleep in the tent. 

To say that the tent leaked would be a gross understatement.. Let me just say we could have strained the spagetti through it if we had ever gotten the water to boil. It was a long cold wet night.

In the morning, the sun was out, and the children were happy, and saying what a great trip it was and "let's do this again"  And we did!!

I told you that Frank was a quick study.  The second outing was quite different.
This time we had a camper trailer, Coleman stove, Lanterns, and parked at a formal campsite with real toilets (I did not go into that area before---you don't want to know) hot water, showers electricity, and everything  Lewis and Clarke did not have.  Gloria bowed out (once was enough) and Louise joined us as
did a friend of Anita. This time there were 4 girls. Toni, Louise, Anita and her friend.  This time we had a regulation pasta pot,(as opposed to the oil drum Frank brought before) and Frank made his famous Giamborta

We had good weather, and had a wonderful time. That is, if  you don't count our being attacted by several doberman dogs, Toni almost drowning, and later getting  stepped on by a horse.  But hey, that's another story.   Close

Uncle Frank  / Toni Cox (Niece (carchedi) )
My first memories as a child are of playing with Anita and Kathy either at our house or Aunt Gloria and Uncle Frank's.  The Carchedi's and Condatores were always together.  We ate together, went to the river cottage together, camped together (I'll let Al tell the pasta fagiole story...)  I remember the house on a dirt road - now called Viers Mill.

When I was about 14, Uncle Frank took me up in his airplane.  I was so excited.  We took off and I was in love!  Years later, I gravitated towards people who had planes so I could get lessons.  The day I soloed was one of my proudest moments.  It was Uncle Frank, though, who first inspired me.

Like many families, ours was not without its troubles.  At 17 I found myself homeless and Uncle Frank and Aunt Gloria insisted I stay with them until after I graduated High School.  They paid a great personal cost for this decision, and the two once-close families were estranged for many years. One of my most treasured photos is me in my high school cap and gown with Uncle Frank standing beside looking so proud of me.  The years following high school were difficult for me, but Uncle Frank was always there when I really needed him.  If I found myself in a tough spot, I would find Uncle Frank and he would give me a job in one of his restaurants, until I got back on my feet.  There were other times I was homeless, and again, he and Gloria were there, however long or briefly I needed them.

I'm 51 now, no longer a teenager in need.  The Carchedi's and Condatore's have long since reconcilled, the love between them being much to strong to allow a permanent separation.  I have my college degree, and I counsel women in a Virginia prison.  Not a day goes by that I don't think "but for the Grace of God go I" for being on one side of the desk instead of the other, in my prison office.  The Grace of God was actually in the form of Uncle Frank being my lifeline when, without it, I could have ended up in a much different place.  My gratitude and love are profound.  My story is from just a tiny example of his love for family, and how it can truly change the world.  I will always think of you as my hero, Uncle Frank.  Love Toni Close

Fond Memories  / Robin Roberson (Grandaughter-in-law)
I had the priviledge of meeting Frank about 13 years ago.  From the first time I met him, he always greeted me with a "Hey darlin'" and a big hug and kiss.  His gruff voice still resounds in my mind.  I did not know him as well as many, but what I always saw was a warm heart, a loving smile, and a face that lit up every time his grandson and great-grandsons walked into his presence.  He was a very talented man with many friends and a legacy that will have us telling stories for years to come!

I am thankful that my children know their great-grandfather and will have him in their memory.  May you rest in peace, Frank and forever make music for the Lord!  We miss you. 
All my love,
Robin Close