OUR GIFT FROM GOD
by Anita L. Culosi

My brother, New York State Trooper Salvatore J. Embarrato, was taken from our family on July 6, 1961. He had been asked to work for a fellow officer even though he had just worked the July 4th holiday weekend and that fateful Thursday was to be his day off. As he was making a u-turn on the NYS thruway not too far from the Tappan Zee Bridge Barracks his car malfunctioned and he never came out of the turn and went over an embankment. The old adage that the good die young is too often true in this profession.

Our parents had three children; my brother, the eldest, was born on Sept. 29 (the feast day of St. Michael, the patron saint of those who would protect and serve) in 1931. Sal was the pride and joy of my parents'life. He was a loving, kind, considerate, respectful and handsome son, very intelligent, extremely well read, had a great wry sense of humor, played the clarinet, enjoyed softball, handball, fencing, chess, opera, the make-believe ballroom (radio's mid-1940's answer to the airing of that generation's popular music), and had just enough teasing expertise to be a typical big brother to my sister and me.

Sal was raised on the lower east-side of New York. He attended St. Joseph's Catholic grade school and Cardinal Hayes high school. Upon graduation he entered Fordham University in the hopes of studying medicine. Financial constraints put that dream on hold and Sal found himself drafted into the Army during the Korean Police Action. When he came home he decided to pursue a career in law enforcement. He joined the State Police in 1958 and was proud to be a part of that organization. His fellow officers all knew him as a very likable, bright and compassionate human being -- an officer who was sure to rise to the top of the ranks. In our neighborhood Sal was a positive role model for many of the guys and everyone always described him with superlatives and had complimentary opinions regarding him. At his funeral, the townspeople and shopkeepers that came told our family how Sal would find out about a needy family in the area and then dig into his own pockets to send an Easter, Thanksgiving and Christmas basket to them.

The young present-day troopers from his Tarrytown barracks knew his face from a picture that hung on a wall in their office from years prior but didn't know anything about him other than he was one of them and passed away long before they were even born. Unfortunately there was no one of Sal's generation on active duty and so no one could shed light on who Sal was as a person. As fate allowed they learned about Sal when a tragic accident took the life of another of the officers from his troop. In wanting to memorialize the young trooper they had currently served with, they decided to track me down and then invited our family to the dedication where Sal too would be included and honored as the first trooper to be lost in the line of duty from that troop. Long overdue but back then those kind of tributes fell through the cracks. I welcomed the opportunity at the ceremony to tell them about my wonderful brother and I also felt an appreciation for what he must have experienced by being a part of their brotherhood. When I finished speaking all of those in attendance applauded because as they made known to me "it was finally a face that had a story and personality that they could now relate to after all those years." They assured us that they would never forget Sal and his name would always be remembered and honored.

Sal was 29 when he shared his final birthday with his one-year old nephew (born on the same day), the only one he would know. Almost forty-four years have passed; changes have occurred in our lives and world. Our parents have gone to join Sal (that is the cycle of life and we hope they are happy again). Losses are always difficult and sad but must be accepted and with time they are endured. And yet, my sister and I still feel the pain of "his" absence as though it was yesterday. When the trooper came to our parents door with the life-altering news of Sal's accident our family was forever changed. Our parents spent every Sunday for the remainder of each of their lives going to the cemetary to be with Sal. They were robbed of their joy. They loved their grandchildren as our family expanded but it was never the same. Our children (his four nephews, three nieces) and grandchildren (his eight grand-nephews and six grand-nieces) would have been privileged and honored to have known their very fine and decent uncle.

You were God's gift to us but we were blessed with you for too short a time -- but for having had you in our lives at all we are forever grateful. Sal you were and continue to be the very best of us. May you rest in peace knowing that you were and are loved, missed and always in our thoughts and memories.

Until we meet again.B Anita