Nick Caruso Sr.: My Way

Vince Romano

June 2006

 

Prologue

In Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, Plato depicts the mass of humanity chained to the floor of a dark cave.  Their only source of motivation, in addition to their basic survival needs, comes from the images cast on the wall of the cave…images created by “architects of culture” manipulating an artificial light source behind them.  In this classic philosophical dialogue, Plato describes how, from this mass of humanity, an occasional individual recognizes and responds to the lure of the light at the opening of the cave. 

 

Over two millenniums later, modern day allegories, such as Richard Bach’s Jonathan Livingston Seagull, tell seemingly parallel stories of individual odysseys by those individuals who, heeding a similar call, chose to break from the herd…timeless stories of rare individuals who did it their way.  In Jonathan’s case, it was the flock from which he broke.

 

In “Be…,” the lead song of the movie version of Richard Bach’s fabled seagull, Neil Diamond memorialized the existentialist seed that lies dormant within us…the seed that first emerged with the rebellion of Prometheus.  Defying the Gods, Prometheus gave fire and enlightenment to us mortals.  Neil Diamond’s poetic words captured the essence of Prometheus, Nietzsche, Jean-Paul Sartre, Richard Bach, and other existentialists.

 

In yet another of our modern day musical allegories (written by Paul Anka and popularized by Frank Sinatra), the journey through the life of a single individual is again used to remind us that we were neither destined to remain shackled to the bottom of the cave, nor, like Jonathan’s flock, were we destined to depend, for our survival, upon the garbage thrown overboard by fishing vessels. 

 

*****

A Taylor Street Odyssey

To begin before the beginning, Caruso’s mother, Mary, was born on DeKoven Street, in Mrs. O’Leary’s cottage.  It is here, in the southeast corner of the legendary Taylor Street’s Little Italy, that the Great Chicago Fire is alleged to have started.    Spanning over eons of time, it was the gift of fire, given to us by Prometheus, which destroyed the legendary Phoenix that rose again from its own ashes.  An omen, perhaps, of what awaited Mary Caruso’s eldest son.

 

Fast forward to today, and, for many, Nick Caruso Sr. epitomizes the quintessential Taylor Street bred entrepreneur.  Whether it was the light at the top of the cave or the Prometheus instinct that stirs within us all, Caruso weaned himself from the confines of Taylor Street’s Little Italy.  He entered what many consider to be the riskiest of all entrepreneurial ventures.  Caruso traveled a road not far removed from that of other Taylor Street bred entrepreneurs. The similarity between and among these Taylor Street alumni and Jonathan Livingston Seagull, was that each did it “their way.”  For Jonathan, “becoming all that he was capable of becoming” was his inspiration for learning to soar, at 160 miles per hour, around and over cliffs that once confined him to his birthplace. Ultimately, the price Jonathan paid was an untimely death when he crashed into those same cliffs.

 

Excelling in a world that had been defined and shaped for us by others, Caruso reached out beyond the boundaries of Taylor Street’s Little Italy to the entrepreneurial world that encompassed Rush Street, then Vegas and ultimately reaching out to the city that never sleeps…a world with its own treacherous cliffs and unpredictable winds.  Whatever it was that triggered a handful of other Taylor Street bred entrepreneurs to venture out beyond the limitations imposed upon us by the larger society, that same “piper man” called out to Caruso.  In responding, Caruso joined that small group of residents who transcended the local tradition of aligning one’s career to neighborhood and “first ward” ties.

 

When he was not in class or playing ball, Caruso could usually be found at the South Water Street Market helping his dad, Sam, with the family produce business. The entrepreneurial side of his personality developed in the hustling world of one of Chicago’s busiest marketplaces.  One could surmise that Nick’s soft-spoken and empathetic personality would have put him at a disadvantage in the “ask for and give no quarter” culture of South Water Street.  Whether it did or not, we do know that his loyalty, humility, compassion, and unpretentious behavior were welcomed traits in gaining him the trust and respect of business associates far removed from South Water Street’s produce market.  As the record shows, there are numerous attestations, from a host of friends and business associates, to the qualities Caruso possessed that inspired their association with him.  They include the likes of Tommy Lasorda (of Los Angeles Dodgers fame); George Randazzo (who participated in recognizing and honoring Caruso’s loyalty with the Salvatore Franco Award at the Italian American National Sports Hall of Fame); Frank Sinatra (including Jilly Rizzo, D’Rone and other members of Sinatra’s close knit associates); and a host of other notables too numerous to mention. 

 

Do not be misled by the young Caruso’s less than aggressive personality and the obedient responses of a son to his father’s needs and wishes.  Stories abound about escapades reminiscent of growing up on Taylor Street.  Having a driver’s license at age 14, Caruso was in demand by his boyhood friends.  Joy rides were accomplished by pushing the targeted cars out of their garages so as not to alert the owners by starting the engines too close to their homes.  Ditto when they returned the cars to their garages later that same day.  Needless to mention, there must have been other instances that reflect the adventurous and mischievous part of “growing up Taylor Street.”

 

His athletic talents and leadership skills offer yet another dimension of him.   St. Ignatius, the prestigious college prep school, which anchors the south end of Taylor Street’s Little Italy, preserves in its trophy case, for posterity, a reminder of Caruso’s superb athletic gifts.  As the starting guard, he led their basketball team to the co-championship of the largest catholic school athletic conference in America.  His genetic link to Giuseppe Paolo DiMaggio, the great Joe DiMaggio, apparently had not lain dormant. The Carusos and the DiMaggios, sharing the same blood lines, emigrated from Sicily to America at the turn of the 20^th century.  One eventually settled in a west coast fishing village with “tiny cable cars” and the other emigrated to the city that anchors the “bread basket of the word.”

 

Other, not so visible, qualities he possessed were apparently recognized by his high school teammates, long before he made the decision to venture beyond his Taylor Street confines.  His teammates elected him to be their team captain.  Of course, one could also make a case that Caruso’s inspirations, dreams, drives, and leadership talents were also due, in part, to his ancestral links to the likes of the Caesars, DiVincis, Michaelangelos, Galileos, et al.   If history has taught us anything, it was that they too, regrets and all, responded to the light, broke from the flock and did it their way.  

 

At the time Caruso was growing up, Taylor Street’s Little Italy, like many other Little Italies throughout America, abounded with 15 and 16 year-old high school drop outs.  (Federal studies showed that Italian-Americans had fewer students enrolling in college than any other European ethnic group--not an unlikely result when one considers the impact the media had upon the opportunities available to Italian-American youngsters.)  Caruso, contrary to the path followed by most of Taylor Street’s first and second generation Italian Americans, attended Loyola University.  His employment as an instructor at both Sheridan Park and the CYO, two of the institutions that anchored the Taylor Street community, followed shortly after his tenure at Loyola University.   Both institutions complemented the now legendary Jane Addams’ Hull House in serving the needs of its Taylor Street residents.  (Bowen Country Club, a summer camp affiliated with Hull House, is memorialized elsewhere in these Archives.)

 

The defining moment of the business enterprise Caruso led came in 1971, when he met for the first time with Jilly Rizzo, Sinatra’s best friend and bodyguard, at Caesar’s Palace in Las Vegas.  There were frequent consultations and meetings with Jilly before Caruso finally orchestrated the opening of Jilly’s Rush Street Lounge in 1981.  Its meteoric success was sparked, in no small part, by the Sinatra influence.  During the turbulent eighties, social, political and demographic changes began to impact the Street.  Eventually, Rush Street succumbed to those changes.  Jilly’s, along with other anchor tenants that had given the Street its glitter, was forced to close its doors. 

 

Like the perennial seasons, Rush Street once more reinvented itself.  As we entered the 90s, the Gibsons and the Carmines began replacing the Sweetwaters and the Adolphs that were the Rush Street icons of the 70s and 80s.  Reminiscent of a climax forest, the street awaited the Caruso/Sinatra ingredient to complete its resurrection and restore its lost glitter.  Like the legendary Phoenix, Caruso’s Jilly’s responded.  On May 6^th 1995, Jilly’s opened its doors once again on Rush Street.  The Caruso/Sinatra rebirth was an overwhelming success. That success spurred the expansion of the Jilly’s Entertainment Group.  By the end of the nineties, the Jilly enterprise, led by Caruso, had opened a Jilly’s in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin.  Prior to the untimely death of Jilly Rizzo, plans had been in place to open a 20,000 square foot Bistro lounge in Vegas.

 

As we entered the new millennium, the news began to spread that Jilly’s was looking to expand eastward, to the city that never sleeps.  In August 2001, the New York Jilly’s opened its doors.  Before the successes portended by the gala opening could be digested, New York was hit by the now infamous September 11^th terrorist attack. Shortly after, another crippling blow was dealt to New York’s food and beverage industry when an ordinance was passed banning smoking in public places.  That combination proved devastating to the newly opened Jilly’s Bistro.  No stranger to adversity, it was time, once again, for Caruso to deal with the aftermath of destructive forces that were beyond his control.

 

Caruso’s father, Sam, although living the last 35 years of his life blind, continued to excel at his trade and to provide for his family.  Nick battles a similar set of problems, among which is a diabetic condition that has significantly impaired his vision.  Perhaps it is again the same genetic connection to the great Joe DiMaggio that enables the Carusos to take the blows and, through it all, to continue fulfilling their responsibilities and to meet their obligations.  I share with you this excerpt from Ernest Hemingway’s novel, The Old Man and the Sea.  I quote from memory:  

 

The old man, struggling to fight off sharks eating away at the prize fish he caught and struggling to overcome the painful burns from the rope holding the great fish to the side of his boat, renews his will and summons the courage  to endure by comparing his struggle with the struggles that faced  Joe DiMaggio during his waning years.  “His heel was so painful he could barely put on his shoe before each game. He did not give up…he did not complain…he did not make excuses!  I too will not complain…I will have no excuses…I will not give up!”

 

Not unlike his dad, Caruso’s presence and his words continue to command the attention of business associates and personal friends.  When visiting the Blue Boys’ Club at Polk and Aberdeen (as he occasionally does on Friday afternoons), Nick Caruso can be found at the center table reminiscing with his Taylor Street boyhood friends.  When the language suddenly clears up, table by table and room to room, it is a signal that his wife, Pat, has arrived.  Like the summer wind, her brief stay, prior to embarking on the return trip to their home in Oak Brook Terrace, fans the embers of memories and reveries of times gone by.  It is a welcome glow. 

 

A quarter century spent in the inner circles of Frank Sinatra have brought Caruso and his wife, Pat, in contact with numerous celebrities.  In addition to the Lasordas and Randazzos, they included the Kennedy clan and an assortment of movie stars, TV personalities, sports figures, entertainers, and other celebrities—the noting of which would exceed the limitations of this writing.  The guest list and congratulatory letters at his recent birthday celebration attest to the strength of those friendships as they endured through the years.

 

Nancy Sinatra remains close to the Caruso clan. Time will tell whether or not Caruso will, once again, take on the treacherous cliffs and the unpredictable winds of the entertainment industry.  If so, like the great ancestral navigators before him, the charts he has accumulated will inspire confidence in the crew assembled for the journey.  And even if he decides to pursue a retirement away from new business endeavors, the territory he has already charted will serve as an inspiration to others.