Joseph Radosti

Remembering a friend. Joey Radosti was a dear friend. How are friendship began was a result of an interest and a passion that both of us shared, FISHING. Joey and I met almost 30 years ago in a country at that time most people never heard of, Belize. Belize back then was a wild place out on the Caribbean and the opportunities for adventure were endless, not only out on or in the sea but on land as well. I was out on a dock one morning checking with a local named Alonzo Badea, on what it would cost to go out for a day's charter in what was no more than a 15 foot wooden boat with an outboard motor with a twist throttle. Along comes this Brutus looking character who was about to charter the boat out from under me. Somehow, I don't remember, but we came to agree we would split the cost and go together. From there was born a friendship that has endured and was built on to the day of Joey's passing. Joey and I after that initial day spent every day with Alonzo out on his boat. At the end of that vacation, Joey and I vowed to each other to do it again the next year. Although we lived over 2000 miles apart, we would share and replay the stories of our days fishing, diving or adventuring in the jungle. For the next 5 years we would meet in Belize, spending more time and because it was becoming more popular, expanding our reach and increasing the adrenaline rush. We also became friends with Alonzo where to the point Alonzo moved to New York and actually lived with Joey for a short time. The stories of those trips I think could fill at least a chapter of a book for every trip if not be a book by themselves. Yes those were fond memories, but one of my favorites wasn't in the tropics, it was in New York. Me being a Mid-west born and raised type and having eventually moved to Colorado, I had never been to New York. Well it must have been about 1990, I was out on a project in New England and Joe said, "Johnson, why don't you come down to New York for the weekend and I will show you the city?" So, my intention was to leave Boston on a midsummer afternoon, catch a plane to Newark and hang out with Joe. Well, I got caught in the demo derby also known as Boston traffic and missed my plane. No big deal, there was another one in an hour. Well, I get to Newark, and Joey is waiting. After getting a hug and a 10 minute rant about being late we head towards I didn't know where. Joe, being the prepared kind of guy he was, had the inconspicuous Chevy Impala, with a cooler full of beer and deli sandwiches. Soon it was apparent we were heading into the Manhattan. The only instruction from Joey was to just "keep the beers down in the tunnel, because the Port Authority was a different type of law enforcement." Whatever the hell that meant. Well traffic on an early Friday evening was backed up and Joey I could tell was getting more agitated and my missing my earlier flight was starting to be replayed, when all of the sudden, there is a siren from behind and as soon as Joey heard it, he turns to me, backhands me on the chest and says, "We may have lucked out." I'm thinking, what kind of luck can an ambulance bring? As soon as the speeding ambulance speeds by, it becomes apparent what this "luck" was all about. Joey was about to use this ambulance to run interference for us to race through Manhattan. If to put it in NASCAR terms, drafting it! Literally riding on its bumper. With cold beers in our hands! I kept asking Joe, where is it that we are going and what's the hurry? With a response of something to the effect, don't worry Johnson, I'll show you. Well in short order, I saw what it was. Yankee Stadium. As we pulled close to the stadium, Joe saw a cop directing traffic and with a beer in his hand pulled up to him and asked, if the garage full? The cops, response was "What the &#$% you think? The game started 10 minutes ago! But there is a spot right there someone pulled out from. Why don't you &#$%ing take that?" So Joe pulls a U turn and says to me,, "That is the nicest cop I ever met." I thought he was kind of rude, but it's New York. Well he proved Joe correct when we got out of our car and the COP tells us, "I'd put that cooler of beer in your trunk if I was you. Someone will see it, and break in your car." A whole new meaning of To Protect and To Serve. Well you can only imagine what it was like for me. An hour after getting off a plane for the first time in New York City and now I am walking into Yankee Stadium! Oh but Joe wasn't done there. Where do you think our seats were? I was putting my beer on the top of the dugout! As we sat down, Joey turns to me and says "Welcome to New York Johnson!" By Bill Johnson