EXCLUSIVE: My Real Life Frank Rizzo Story

Well, Frank Rizzo is back in the news.
They're removed his statue from center city Philadelphia and sent the behemoth into hiding.
And I have to think Rizzo would enjoy all the brouhaha as he was never, ever a stranger to controversy. In fact, he seemed to welcome it.
But on the day this photo was taken there was no controversy. Philadelphia Mayor Frank L. Rizzo was in hie element -- in South Philly, among friends. It was what they called "Tag Day" on Two Street  and the Mummers were out in force. People bought and wore tags showing they contributed to Mummers-related charities. The string bands marched with the Mayor at the helm.
He was so proud and he was treated like a hero. He could not get down the street for all the people who wanted to touch him. I was one of the lucky ones who got to take a snapshot with him.
I met Rizzo again years later when he was attempting a comeback, running one last time (this time as a Republican) to try to regain the mayor's office.
It was 1991 and I was working at the Philadelphia Bar Association as Associate Executive Director for Communications and Public Affairs. We invited Rizzo to come and speak before the association's Board of Governors. Rizzo was never a big fan of lawyers but, to our surprise, he accepted. His audience was skeptical, to say the least. The bar association was and remains a liberal bastion.
I'll never forget Rizzo's visit to our offices. He was literally and figuratively, bigger than life. He strode into the building like a titan. He had no handlers with him, he didn't need them. The leaders of the association (more than 30 of them) were assembled in the board room around a huge table while others sat in chairs around three of the four walls. The room was packed.
The captains of the legal community thought Rizzo would proceed directly to their command center. But Rizzo surprised them. Rizzo saw that members of the bar association staff (receptionists, secretaries, assistants, etc.) were gathered either near the board room or at their stations and he went to them first. This was pure Rizzo. He kept the lawyers waiting while he mingled with the working people -- the people who toiled away on a daily basis; the ones who made everything happen. These were Rizzo's people and they greeted him warmly, hugging him and taking photos with him.
Then, Rizzo went into the board room -- a long rectangular inner-sanctum lined with the photos of former chancellors (presidents) of the association. He greeted various people and then turned to me. The conversation went something like this:

Welcome, Mr. Mayor.
And who are you? My name is Dan Cirucci, Mayor and I just want you to know my father was a great fan of yours.
Your father? Your father? What about you?Well, yes. I'm a fan.
Your are? What did you say your name was?Dan Cirucci.
Cirucci? Cirucci! (he looks around the room, puts his arm around me, leans in) How the hell did they let a guy like you into a place like this?

The message from Francis (Frank) Lazarro Rizzo could not have been more clear. 

 We were paisons. 

Each of us stood on the shoulders of giants who had broken through barriers to put us we were. We were in a place where, at one time, we were never supposed to be. But now, they had to let guys like us into a place like this. The barriers were down!

That was the essence of Frank Rizzo; quick, proud, indomitable.
There will never, be another one like him. And while they may remove and hide his statue they will never be hide him from us nor will they destroy our legacy!