Memories of Joe...

His name is Joseph Anthony Bernini....Joe to everyone who knew him, and there were many.
I don't know a lot about his life before coming to the small mining town of Eureka Utah. I know he was born it Italy and came to Utah with the C.C. Camps in the 1940's. I heard he was a street cop in NYC before coming here. But then talks talk and who knows what is true or not. What I do know is the impact he had on my life for many years. Truth is he touched so many lives along his journey and what I share is only a small portion of it.

This may be a longer than usual post, so hopefully you'll have time to sit back and be a part of my memories. Joe passed away three days ago....

He started his job as City Marshall the same year I was born. I spent a good portion of my growing up years staying with my Aunt and her family in Eureka. If you read past posts you'll hear me tell of some things with my cousins. Now I'll share some others that involve Joe. Both in good and not so good situations. I'm sure he saw enough of it all.

My first memories of him are around age 5 or 6. My Mom and Aunt Marie had an older sister, Aunt Ella. I loved her dearly, but she was an alcoholic. I only say this because I remember Joe bringing her home and she could hardly stand up. She stayed with us off and on. And as I got older, there were times when we'd get a call from "up town" for someone to come get Ella. So it was usually one of my cousins and I that would walk up to the bar and help her back home. If Joe was driving down the street he'd make sure we got her home ok. There were some times when it was just me helping her home and he'd stop and give us a ride.

My first big memory involves a mud puddle. I was 9 years old. My two cousins and I were on the mine dump playing as usual, and it had rained through the night. Of course there were mud puddles and what do kids do when they see one? Well, Steve and David were standing by a big one throwing rocks into it. I was squatted down at another one with a stick, just poking at the water. Steve said something to me. I didn't understand what he said so I turned around to say "what?" and something knocked me backwards into the water! I sat up and felt my forehead hurt. Then when I realized one of the boys had thrown a rock at me, I was MAD! So I got up out of the water and started chasing them. Guess I thought I'd punch one of them in the nose or something. What I didn't know is that Steve had said "Move so I can throw this rock".

Down the mine dump we ran, me trying to catch them and them staying as far away from me as their legs would let them. They knew I was as tough as they could be...
Up the main street they went with me right after them. I had my hand up to my forehead cause it still hurt. But not enough to make me stop chasing.

Then Joe came down the road in his Cop Car and saw us. He probably would have just chuckled and kept on going, but when he saw me he stopped the car and called my name. I hollered "hi Joe" but just kept running. Next thing I know Joe grabs me around the waist asking what was I doing and what happened to me. I told him as he was putting me in the car and driving to my Aunt's house. But I kept saying I needed to find the boys. What I didn't know is what Joe saw as I was running after them. The rock had made quite a gash in my forehead and even though I had my hand there, the blood was spurting out and my whole arm, clear to my elbow was red with blood. Needless to say, Aunt Marie was worried when we got to the house and mad at the boys. Course it really wasn't something they meant to do, I just didn't move in time!

As it turned out, that was my first stitches. Joe drove us to the nearest hospital, about 35 miles away. I remember it so well, I hated needles! It took Joe, Aunt Marie and another nurse to hold me down so the doctor could stitch up my head. I also remember Joe stopping to get us an ice cream cone on the way home. Guess I should say at that time people only had one car and my Uncle was at work. And that the 3 younger cousins got to come with us. No babysitter...

When we got back home, Steve and David were sitting on the steps waiting for us. I think they were both scared and worried. And then mad cause they didn't get to go when they heard what happened. But then I was the center of attention for a day or two. I mean, how cool to have stitches that someone could actually see. And I got to ride in Joe's Cop Car all the way to the valley! Then of course they got scolded for throwing rocks....

On that note, I'll tell of how we lived right next to the Court House. There were big tall windows on the side that faced the house and for some odd reason, they got broke a lot from someone throwing rocks at them....hummm. So Joe decided the city needed to put some iron screens over them so that wouldn't happen. And speaking of iron bars, the jail was also in the back of the courthouse. Whenever there was someone in there, the light outside was left on. Bet you can guess what we kids use to do :) Ya, it was fun talking to whoever was in there. We would just find an old box or something and if it wasn't tall enough, we'd lift each other up to peek through the bars on the window. Sometimes we knew who it was and that made it funner. Usually someone sleeping off the night before. I don't think Joe ever locked anyone in for that, just closed the bar door, them go sleep it off and leave when they woke up.

As the years flew by and Joe went through all the things he did with us rowdy kids, he was there as we were teenagers....still being rowdy! He'd put up with a lot and usually just sent us on home unless it was something real bad. Like when my cousin and a friend broke into the Catholic Church and took the wine....

As for me, I got married at 16. Not to anyone I was in love with, (who knows what love is at that age?) but to someone I'd met when I was made to live 60 miles away with my dad and his new wife. She didn't like me. So after knowing him 4 months, we got married and moved to Eureka. He worked in the mines and I tried to figure out what a wife is suppose to do...
He drank and was mean when he did, so Joe was protecting me from him a lot. There were times when he'd just take me to my Aunt's and I'd sleep in the back of the camper, then go back home in the morning. Joe did not like him. And now I think it's safe to tell about this.

One time the husband was on a good drunk one night and it turned into quite a ruckus when he came home. Joe had heard about it and came to the house, ordered the hubby outside and me to stay inside.
Next thing I knew, a car was screeching out of the gravel driveway and Joe was calling my name. I wondered if he was ok and ran out the door. He was standing there madder than I'd ever seen him. The husband hadn't gone too far and was sitting in the car about a block away. A pistol was taken out of a holster, put in my hand and these words were said to me "What I don't see I don't know about and I'm turning my back". Well, I may have been tough, but I didn't think the jerk husband was worth being locked up for.....
He left town that night and didn't come back.

Then there was the second husband, who was from town and everyone knew and liked him. He was the life of the party. Ya, same ol' same ol'. And he was a nice guy...as long as you weren't his wife. Won't go into all of it again, but there were many, many times Joe would come and haul him down to "sleep it off".

Oh and I could tell of the time my first son and his cousin were throwing rocks at cars!
They were 4 or 5 at the time. We found out and yes, they got sat down and told why they can't be doing that. We even had Joe talk to them and then they didn't do it anymore. Instead, they saw how dogs were chasing the cars so they thought that might be fun! So this time Joe took them down to the jail, put them in the cell, shut the door and walked away. When he brought them back home they were 2 humble little boys that never threw rocks or chased cars again.

So many more things Joe did through the years, too many to put in one post. But I want to share a funny one, a sad one and a bittersweet one before I end this. Hope you're still with me...

The County decided the town needed a new Deputy Sheriff living there to "help out the law enforcement a little better". Sure...
We had old Pete but he didn't ever do much, Joe took care of things fine.
There was a family who'd moved in town and he was quite the drunk. Mean one too. One time he had a shotgun and was threatening to shoot his wife. She got out of the house and called the Sheriff's Dept. Well, the new County guy got all excited and called in the S.W.A.T. team from 50 miles away. First time for everything I suppose. My best friend and I were standing by her Dad's house which wasn't far from there. Guess I better say I was about 20 then. Here came Joe in his car and parked by where we stood. We could see guys dressed in black with helmets on and guns and hiding behind trees and some old sheds. The Deputy had said the man was up in the attic with the gun.

All Joe could do was shake his head and wonder what all the fuss was about. As we stood there talking, he finally said "ok, I've seen enough". He called to another man from town who was standing nearby. Joe gave him some money and told him to run down to the liquor store and get a pint of whiskey. When he came back, Joe took the pint and walked toward the house. You could see the guys in black ready their guns and one shouted for Joe not to go in the house. Joe just waved him off, said he'd be fine and would have it under control in a few minutes, walked in the front door and closed it behind him. Needless to say, things were a little tense. After about 20 minutes the door opened and Joe came out telling the boys with the guns to put them down and go in to get their man. Then he came back over to where we stood and said all they had to do was give the guy something to drink and he'd pass out. I guess Joe did just that. He stood there talking up into the opening of the attic as the guy drank the whiskey Joe handed him. Then he passed out. The guys in black with the big guns loaded up and went home........

There were also times that weren't so happy. Like the time my Uncle took Joe by the shirt collar and threatened to throw him down the mine shaft they were standing by. Long story, but it involved us renegade teenage kids and my Uncles tools that Joe was mad enough to threaten to throw down the shaft, till he saw my Uncle coming up the mine dump....

As I got older and my kids grew, they knew Joe too. In fact all the kids in town loved to go talk to Joe when school got out for the day. He would be parked there making sure they all got across the highway and down the sidewalk ok. And he'd give them all a piece of hard candy.

When my oldest son Kevin died, I wanted Joe to Dedicate his grave, but he didn't know about it. He'd gone to New York to see his Family and didn't get back in time. He felt so bad...

He touched so many lives in so many different ways. And I know others have their memories of Joe. We should get together and talk about them someday...
He saw me through my good and bad times. Was there to help and protect me, even to listen to me yell at him if I thought I needed to.

I haven't lived there for over 20 years now, but I'd still see him when I'd go there for whatever reason, or I'd see him in a store somewhere in the valley shopping for groceries or waiting for his wife to come out of a store in the mall.

Last year when my oldest daughter Lori died and I was there at the courthouse making arrangements for the cemetery plot, who should walk in to pay his city bill.....
He hadn't heard about it yet. It's like he was meant to be there at that time. I asked Joe to say a prayer over her at the grave and he did. It was in the cold of winter, snow all over and he was 87 years old. But he was there for me, like always.....

So this is my farewell to a dear old friend. I'll miss you Joe..........
Thanks for sharing my journey.


Love 'em while they're here, life is short.