Italians in America – Our Immigrant Stories: A career in show business took him places, but never too far from family

Written by Tanya Tecce

When Tony Lo Bianco was 9 years old, he worked for nickels by shining shoes at a Brooklyn subway station. By the time he passed away on June 11 at age 87, he had appeared in more than 100 films, TV programs and stage performances, including a memorable turn as an Italian gangster in the 1971 neo-noir thriller “The French Connection.”

Another of Tony’s passions: Cultivating tomatoes. Here he shows a 2-pound, 7-ounce behemoth. (Photo Credits: Tony LoBianco’s collection)

Tony’s grandparents emigrated from Sperlinga and Catania, Sicily, and settled in New York. His parents Joe (Carmelo Joseph) and Sally (Rosaria) met in Brooklyn, N.Y., where Joe drove a taxi. Mom Sally lived in Manhattan near Mulberry and Mott streets. They fell in love and married and had three boys:  Joe, Tony and John.

These were the days hot on the heels of the Great Depression, and in the midst of World War II. Money was tight. Tony’s brother John recalls, “I remember my dad showing me 50 cents for the day’s work. A good day was a dollar.”

(left) Gangster Sal Boca (played by Tony Lo Bianco) stands his ground against the police in “The French Connection.” (right) Tony Lo Bianco as he appeared in the play “Yanks Three, Detroit Nothing, Top of the Seventh,” by Jonathan Edwards.

As soon as they could, the brothers got to work themselves. “We shined shoes,” recalls John. “Tony made his own shoebox and he painted it orange. He wrote 5 cents on the side and he used to sit on a corner by the subway station. He was only about 9 years old.”

When Tony was 11, he fell and fractured his skull and hip. He didn’t let the limp he developed stop him. In the first of its kind at the time, he received a surgery to implant  bone that would grow. He then had to lie in the hospital for a full year to recover.

By age 12 he was getting around on crutches, racing people, and winning, John remembers.

John and Tony Lo Bianco visit the family’s ancestral home in 2016.

Joe Sr. and Sally taught their boys that they could do whatever they set their minds to. Tony took this seriously and as a teenager he became a golden gloves boxer, as well as an all-star baseball player, even trying out for the Brooklyn Dodgers at one point. He was a leader in school and president of his class. “The guys and girls all loved him,” recalls John, and his teacher Pat Jacobsen adored him.

So much so that one day she made a point to come to the house and visit with Tony’s parents. “She told my mother, ‘Your son has to be an actor,’” recalls John. “My parents took her seriously and got Tony into some contests that he won, and acting school.

“Upon graduating high school he needed $50 for the acting school in New York. Somehow my father got it together. When that money ran out, the school loved him so much they let him continue anyway. He paid them back by putting on performances once weekly.

“He landed a part in “The Threepenny Opera” play and met his first wife Dora. She helped us Brooklyn kids out a great deal, for example, correcting our grammar. She was a great influence.” They went on to have three daughters: Miriamne, Nina and Anna.

Emmy award winning Tony was passionate about acting and dedicated his life to it. Yet, he could never stay away from home too long, because home and his family were always closest to his heart. “One of the great things about my brothers and I is that we loved each other to an extent almost impossible to believe. We stayed close always. Especially after our oldest brother Joe passed away when he was just 67 years old.

“We just had tremendous love as a family. My mother used to tell us if we get cut, she bleeds. My dad’s taxi cab was covered with our pictures. Even after he retired after 50 years at age 71, people would still come up to us and say ‘I know you!’ Once when Tony was in a Pharmacia in Italy a man approached and said “Hey! I know you!” But it wasn’t from acting like we thought. It was from dad’s taxi cab!

“We came from walking around Brooklyn streets with holes in our pants, flaps in our shoes and even patches on our socks. All my clothes were my brothers’. That is how we grew up,” John said. “But our parents made us feel like with hard work, we could do whatever we wanted, so we believed it. It was a great way to grow up. Hard work doesn’t only mean digging ditches. It means to do whatever you are doing to the best of your ability.”

John fondly remembered the close bond the brothers shared as boys.

“It was just an incredible experience growing up. I wanted so much to be with my older brothers. They were such good people. They had empathy and compassion for me, there wasn’t jealousy. They were my heroes. They made me feel like I was the best at everything. If they could throw the ball 100 yards, they’d make sure I learned how to throw it 120 yards. It doesn’t matter what age, believe in whatever you want.

“Tony had a lot of influence on both our lives and always shared everything he did with us. We knew every win of his life, he wanted us to enjoy it too. He opened up doors for us and I met people I never would have met and experienced things I never would have if it weren’t for him. My big brother, Tony Lo Bianco.”

Humanitarian and National Spokesperson for the Order Sons & Daughters of Italy, Tony’s career spanned more than 68 years and was still going strong at the time of his death in June. His current project is with his wife Alyse, as co-executive producers of the film “The Shroud of Turin,” based on the novel “The Shroud Codex.” In addition to his three children, he also has two stepchildren, Tristan and Lanah.