Uncle Joe Foster

Joe with family members including brothers Bill and Bob

Joe with family members including brothers Bill and Bob

We were so lucky to have Uncle Joe in our lives for so many years. Sadly he passed away yesterday at the age of 87. Joe was the younger brother of Julia Stampone’s father, Bill.

Joe was an icon in the Philadelphia legal community. He began his career at White and Williams in 1958 and continued to work every day until his passing. He had served as the firm’s Litigation Department Chairman and was a member of its Executive Committee. He was a veteran trial lawyer who became Chancellor of the Philadelphia Bar Association in 1981. He also served as President of the Pennsylvania Defense Institute; President of the Lawyers Club of Philadelphia; and Fellow of the American College of Trial Lawyers and American Board of Trial Advocates. He was also former Vice-Chair of the Pennsylvania Supreme Court Rules Committee.

Supreme Court of Pennsylvania

Supreme Court of Pennsylvania

But beyond his many legal accomplishments he was “Uncle Joe.” A gregarious role model, who inspired many family members to go on to the practice of law. He always showed interest in what his many nephews and nieces were doing in their lives and was truly just a nice man.

No one was more respected in the family and legal community than Uncle Joe. For me, he was a mentor and friend. He personally moved me for Admission by the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania to the Bar of the Courts of Pennsylvania on May 5, 1981. He will be missed but fondly remembered.

-JPS

More Than Life Itself

"Stevie Z"

“Stevie Z”

It’s rare in life that you meet someone who changes everything.  Someone who fills your heart with joy and gives you a reason to live.  Someone you can’t stop thinking about because just the thought brings a smile to your face.  Your wife, your husband, your children, and your parents all contribute to this unconditional emotion we call love.

On October 28, 2013, the Stampone-Zamulinsky circle of love was forever connected by the arrival of Stephen Joseph Zamulinsky, Jr., a very special gift.  Stevie Z, as he is affectionately known, was delivered by my daughter Nicole and husband Steve, in a bit of a surprise, 10 weeks early.  Nicole and Steve had followed the prenatal care handbook to a “T”, but at 31 weeks, Nicole had a sudden onset of HELLP Syndrome requiring the emergency cesarean delivery of a 3 lb. baby boy.  It was a scary day for all concerned as Julia and I were in Charleston, South Carolina attending Andi’s final collegiate soccer game (Drexel University 4 – College of Charleston 1) when we received a call about the emergency.  Immediately boarding a flight to Philadelphia, we had no idea what to expect upon landing.  You know the drill, all electronic devices off, seatbacks in their upright position, table trays up.  Three and a half agonizing hours later, wheels on the ground, Julia’s cell phone lit up with the news of Stevie’s arrival as well.  By the time we got to the hospital, a waiting room full of family including great grandparents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, cousins, in-laws, and Nicole’s longtime friend Kim Fogg, were already present to support Nick, Steve and Stevie.  Numerous others would arrive within hours.  Our circle of love had surrounded Stevie before he even had a name.

Circle of Love

Our Circle of Love

The initial weeks in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit were tense and unsettling because of the baby’s weight and his pulmonary and heart issues, but these problems proved no match for this soon to be “bull” of a baby.  After five weeks in the Bryn Mawr Hospital NIC-Unit, Stevie was released into the Stampone-Zamulinsky family, and I can truly say life will never be the same.  Stevie’s escape from the NIC-Unit was quicker than anticipated – - in part due to his genetically guaranteed power eating appetite.  Doctors and nurses were overjoyed with his rapid progress.

For Bill and Mary Z, this was their 15th grandchild, veteran grandparents, wonderful loving grandparents to all 15.  For Julia and I, this was Numero Uno!  (Need to teach grandson Zamulinsky some Italian).  This was unfamiliar territory for us, with new responsibilities and lots of traditions to pass on.  Having raised 5 children, you would think this is more of the same, but it’s not, it’s different, inexplicably different.  As a grandfather, I have it easy, Grandmom is the useful one, the one who spends those first weeks reassuring the new parents they are doing everything right.  The nurse, the cook, the go-to babysitter, for all intents and purposes, the best nanny money can buy.  Me, I just have to show up, toss him in the air, snap some photos, shoot a few baskets, and buy him his first baseball glove.  Boy, I love my job!

Stevie & Grandpop

Stevie & Grandpop

Almost 16 months have now passed, and there has not been a day I haven’t thought about Stevie, looked at his photo, or wanted to hug him.  I recently reminded Julia of a post I wrote a couple of years ago about Roseto, Pennsylvania, a small town founded by my great grandfather, an Italian immigrant.  The lesson of the Roseto story is how the people were able to live long healthy lives with no heart disease primarily because of their lifestyle – the emphasis being their focus on what really matters – family and friends.  They had insulated themselves from outside pressures of a fast world and somehow had extended their own lives.  No one dies of heart disease in Roseto.  I recalled the Roseto story with Julia because most homes were occupied by 3 or more generations under one roof.  My brothers and I were lucky enough to be raised in this very type of household and I have such vivid memories of my grandparents being more than grandparents; they were surrogate parents.  It has taken 60 years, but it all makes sense now with the arrival of Stevie.  How special it would be if I could come home to him every day.  But the world has changed, and that is not the American Dream, only my dream.  And fortunately, we get to experience that same satisfaction every weekend at the Jersey shore when we have just that, 3 or 4 generations under one roof.  Cooking, eating, playing the harmonica, splashing, all in harmony, all within our circle of love.

Meatball

Meatball

Being grandparents gives you a second chance at being the parents you wish you were.  Being more patient, less distracted, more fun, more attentive and not sweating the small things.  But for me, the most amazing thing is how much you can learn from someone who has an entire vocabulary consisting of “nana”, translates to banana.  (Nicole tells me Stevie can say dozens of words, but the only discernable one for me has been his food reference – who’d a thunk it.  We are working on “meatball”).

But I digress.  My point is, Stevie doesn’t care how you’re dressed, what you look like, whether you have brought him a gift or anything else material.  He’s just happy to see you and touch you.  He reaches for a hug not a handout.  There is no better feeling in the world than this little man running across the room, arms open for a hug and kiss.  So uncorrupted, so simple, so pure.

For me, the story of being Stevie’s Grandpop has not yet been fully written, lot’s still to do.  Babysitting, going fishing, having a catch, maybe even Disneyworld; but one thing’s for sure Stevie, “I love you more than life itself”.

The Next Great Wine Frontier…New Jersey

There was an interesting NPR Planet Money podcast which talked about the next great wine frontier – no, not Spain, France, or even California, the story covered the interesting tale of New Jersey wine.

People from around the country often associate New Jersey with Springsteen, Snookie, and the Sopranos – but not great wine. Louis Caracciolo, a vintner in Atco, NJ is trying to change this reputation. Caracciolo has been making wine since 1976 at his vineyard, Amalthea Cellars. He believes that Jersey can become an internationally recognized wine capital, much the same way Napa Valley and Sonoma did in the 1970’s.

Prior to 1976, California wine got no respect and fancy wine drinkers wouldn’t touch it. To celebrate the American Bicentennial, California wines out of the little-known regions of Napa and Sonoma went head-to-head with French Chardonnay and Cabernet Sauvignon. The tasting was judged by the preeminent French wine experts of the time. To everyone’s surprise, the judges chose a California wine over the French for both the red and white flights. The tasting became known as the Judgment of Paris.

The next week, the wine stores were packed with people looking for California wines. As a result, the price of California wine went up and the number of vineyards in Napa and Sonoma exploded.

JerseyIf that was possible, any region in the world with good wine-making conditions could do the same thing – even New Jersey. There’s a big issue however, New Jersey is associated with fruity wines such as the famous New Jersey blueberry wine. As a result, New Jersey has what is known as a collective action problem; the success of Jersey wines depends on how the competitors behave. People judge Jersey winemakers not only by their product, but by the product of the rival down the street. All Jersey wine is grouped together in the consumers mind.

So how do New Jersey winemakers change people’s expectations? The first thing winemakers did was ditch the name Jersey and slap on the official geological name for the area around Atlantic City, the Outer Coastal Plain (O.C.P.).

The Outer Coastal Plain is 2,250,000 acres of the best wine-making land in the country. The area has been certified by the Federal Government as an American Viticultural Area (AVA). The Americans got this trick from the French, this is how they dealt with their collective action problem back in the 19th century.

The region, which has nearly the same composition as Bordeaux, experiences a warm growing season, spring frosts are rare, and the breezes from the Atlantic are ideal for winemaking.

But changing the name is not enough; New Jersey needs a critical mass of wineries producing quality wine. So Lou Caracciolo is on a mission. He visits wineries throughout New Jersey and gives them the sales pitch – continue to sell your sweet wine and make money that way, but make your reputation and prestige on the quality stuff. While Jersey is not there yet, if you listen hard enough, you’ll hear a rumbling in the wine world…New Jersey is coming.

This past summer my daughter Nicole, my wife Julia, and I visited Cape Mary Winery, which has 150 acres of grapes, three tasting rooms, and some of the finest wine in the world. While sipping a glass of Cab Franc, overlooking the vineyard with the bay in the distance, it’s hard to believe that you’re in Jersey.

Next time you want a fine wine, screw Napa and Sonoma, think Jersey (or the O.C.P.).