Faces of Long Island celebrates the uniqueness of everyday Long Islanders. In their own words, they tell us about their life experiences, challenges and triumphs. Newsday launched this social media journey into the human experience to shine a light on the diverse people of this wonderful place we call home.

‘I had my children, who were in fourth and second grade, go to my graduation from library school so they could see good things happen when you pursue your dreams even when there are obstacles.’

East Northport

“I began my career after college in rehab counseling for New York City, a challenging situation with a 100-person caseload. I changed careers and went back to school for computer science, which was in high demand and cutting edge. When I got married, my husband worked for the Department of Defense, so we needed to be on Long Island. Without family and friends, the local library was my lifeline.

“I met friends at the toddler programs and my children began their love of books. I decided to reinvent myself again by becoming a librarian. There were challenges along the way to my second master’s degree, especially with two young children and during this time my husband had a terrible accident resulting in a spinal cord injury. He’s doing better now.

We knew parents were isolated and overwhelmed, so we utilized Facebook to provide programming available anytime.

“I had my children, who were in fourth-and second-grade, go to my graduation from library school so they could see good things happen when you pursue your dreams even when there are obstacles. I worked part-time at Westbury Library and Islip Library, and when my homelife settled down I started a full-time job 14 years ago at Half Hollow Hills Community Library where I’m head of Children’s Services. The pandemic has presented challenges to serving our patrons. We knew parents were isolated and overwhelmed, so we utilized Facebook to provide programming available anytime.

“Our library quickly adapted our use of social media for our community with videos and live streams for children to see their librarians every day. We wanted to be a reassuring, familiar face, so we created a daily schedule of story times and tutorials for students. We reached out to our PTAs to share library online resources to help students with remote learning and provided WiFi hotspots to every student in the district who didn’t have internet. Our book drop became a food drop donation for local food pantries. The library has had an important role in my life and I’m happy to share with families the potential of what libraries can offer in their lives.”

‘Three or four months into taking heroin, I wound up losing my job, lost my car, and had to come clean to my family.’

Huntington

“I grew up on the island and I had a normal childhood. I graduated with honors from Albany’s business school in 2012. Everything was great and then I wound up having an injury in the gym. I saw somebody at my job; he always looked a little inebriated and he said, ‘you should try this particular pill,’ which was a really popular pill back then. It was Oxycodone, 30 milligrams. That was what the doctors were overprescribing.

“Once I took the opiate, it was just game over. Once a week or once every few days led to an everyday thing. I got introduced to heroin in 2016. There were just no rules; my life turned into absolute chaos. Three or four months into taking heroin, I wound up losing my job, lost my car, and had to come clean to my family. From 2016 to late 2020, it was awful. I’ve been to double digits number of rehabs, overdosed many times, had unbelievably close calls, car accidents, a lot of situations where I should be dead.

I had a complete transformation from how I was with addiction, with my body and my health, to where I am now.

“At the beginning of last year, I overdosed twice in the same day. I got very lucky: my mom saved me, and I wound up going to rehab. Then, boom, COVID hit and everything shut down the week I got out of rehab. I wound up relapsing and had another terrible few months. I made it to the beginning of this year, and I said, alright, I’m going to die if I keep doing this. Do I really want my legacy to be, ‘Oh, he died at 30. He had all this potential’?

“I took all the suggestions from people who’ve done it themselves, such as going to meetings, joined an outpatient clinic, did therapy. What really helps me is I have a very strict routine with the gym and what I put into my body. I had a complete transformation from how I was with addiction, with my body and my health, to where I am now.

“I’m in the best shape of my life. I’m going back to school to get my certification as a nutritionist. I want to do it in the field of recovery and help people in a natural way without having to take medicine, without having to numb the pain of their feelings. I have a YouTube channel about addiction, and I am an NA sponsor. There are so many people on the island who have suffered through this and I’m trying to change the stigma of what an addict is.”

Interviewed by Hannah Fusaro

‘We met and were literally with each other for two months and got married. We really wanted to find love and found it in the most unexpected place.’

Lynbrook

“My husband, Steven, and I went to Oceanside High School together. He was dating a friend of mine. I knew of him, and he knew of me. We went to school in the ’90s. It was not usual for Italians, Irish or other Caucasians to date Spanish, much less Indian people. That was foreign. He was dating a nice Italian girl who happened to be my friend. We never spoke. We ran into each other on the last day of school as he was leaving and I was just coming in, which was very coincidental.

“Fast forward to 2009, we were both finishing up being 29, met at a restaurant in Oceanside and both didn’t want to be there, but very glad we were. We met and were literally with each other for two months and got married. We wanted to find love and found it in the most unexpected place.

I never felt racism until I got married.

“I came to this country in 1984. My parents wanted to come here like everybody else—for more freedom. My parents didn’t want us living in India where arranged marriages happen. Unfortunately, we lost our visa after six years. I decided to be very honest because we were getting serious with each other. At that time, I was considered a Dreamer under DACA. He wanted to help me because he loved me. I got my citizenship through this man that also gave up the world for me.

“His parents didn’t take it so well. They said ‘this girl was no good, was using him and was going to ruin his life.’ He said ‘this was what he was going to do because he was the happiest with me.’ I never felt racism until I got married. I didn’t know what the problem was. They made sure I knew I wasn’t Italian or American, but I certainly felt American. I was here long enough and had been working since I was 14. I did what I was always supposed to do.

“After I had my son, I didn’t want to go back to the city to work in television because the hours were grueling. He pulled $5,000 from his annuity to start Gourmet Ghee Company—the ideas were mine, but the money was all him. I said I wanted the business to be like our marriage. We wanted it to be the best of both worlds. I think we kind of changed the world. After us, so many people we know got into interracial relationships. It was actually a good thing. I hope we set a good trend.”

‘Every time the body of a firefighter or police officer was located everyone stopped, stood up and saluted while the body was escorted to the morgue. I think it made me want to help others even more so.’

Sayville

“I was 16 when we suddenly had to call 911 for my mother. She had been ill for a while, but one day in our Sayville home, she just passed out on the floor. There was blood everywhere. I had never called 911 before. I didn’t know what to expect, but suddenly people started pulling up in their cars and ran in to help, then the ambulance came a short time after. I realized at that moment that the people who responded were just regular people who came running in to help a stranger that they have no connection to. It made me want to learn emergency medicine and help others like those who came when my family needed it.

“I went down to the local ambulance company and joined the youth squad. When I was a senior in high school, I went Saturdays for seven months to Bay Shore to take the New York State EMT class and got certified. I carried a beeper that would ring like crazy whenever something was happening! A funny story: The woman whose job it was to monitor the halls and make sure kids didn’t leave the building used to keep an eye on me—well the next year after I graduated, I responded to a 911 call about someone in pain and it was her! She sees me walk in and laughed, saying, ‘Oh my God, I should have known you were going to show up.’

“When 9/11 happened, I was 17. Someone said a plane hit the World Trade Center, and then another plane hit, and that our company might get the call. I didn’t believe that. We had responded to Nassau County a couple of times, but not to the city, that just didn’t happen. It was when a neighbor responding to Ground Zero asked to borrow my blue emergency car light so he could get into the city, did I realize that I needed to go.

“I walked up to the pile, just looked around and could not believe what I was seeing. So much destruction, so many first responders and the smell of burnt flesh in the air. It was nauseating. Every time the body of a firefighter or police officer was located, everyone stopped, stood up and saluted while the body was escorted to the morgue. I think it made me want to help others even more so. All these heroes who passed by me had given their lives to help complete strangers, that definitely was life-impacting.

At one point early in COVID, it was put out NOT to do CPR, and when that came up during a meeting I was like ‘This is insane! How do you not do CPR on someone who calls 911?

“My parents were police officers, and I always wanted to be a cop like them. I got hired after 9/11 as a civilian with the Metropolitan Transportation Authority Police Department. I was going to school during the day and working at night in the MTA dispatch room. After being hired as an MTA cop, I was promoted to detective. My medical background informed how I treated everyone, even those I arrested. I investigated more people hit by trains then I can count. Every victim who passed away, I treated them, their family and friends with empathy, compassion and respect—always making sure they knew that I would investigate the death no matter where it led me and would present all the facts to give the family closure. To this day on the anniversaries of some victims’ deaths, I get text messages from their families thanking me. I’ve learned a lot about people and life from this.

“When COVID started, I was asked to join an Emergency Management Think Tank for Suffolk County, where would discuss scenarios and how to handle all kinds of issues, from how to operate emergency services to how mass burials would be handled and what kind of PPE should be worn, we came up with all of that. I wanted to lend my experience to the people of Suffolk and ended up realizing 9/11 prepared me somewhat to deal with the pandemic. I always think of emergency management as “lessons learned.” You learn lessons from the last thing and try to apply them to the next one.

“At one point early in COVID, it was put out NOT to do CPR, and when that came up during a meeting I was like ‘This is insane! How do you not do CPR on someone who calls 911? EMS comes in wearing full protective gear, how do you tell them they can’t save someone’s life? We’re here to save lives, that’s what we do. We don’t let people die in their homes.’ After that, the idea was scrapped.

“I can say these kinds of things because I don’t have a stake in the game, they don’t pay me, they don’t pay my bills. They know my heart’s in the right place, and I say these things so I can lay my head down at night. This is why they use me, because they know I’m going to give an honest response. All I care about are the people of Suffolk County.

“I have cancer. It’s a rare type, only affecting around one in 1.5 million people. I go for blood transfusions a lot; I think I’m on number 30. They removed any organs I didn’t need to get rid of as much of the cancer as they could see, then poured hot chemo into my stomach. It’s called HIPEC. It sits in your body for like an hour, then they suck it out, reconstruct your stomach and seal you up.

“My health has slowed me down. I can’t work—I share my knowledge, but I can’t be the guy who carries someone down the stairs anymore. I had to retire at 38, not by choice. They call me a Deputy Fire Coordinator, but I don’t get paid. It really started with the pandemic, they appointed me right when COVID hit. I don’t get paid, just give my advice. I get paged for major emergencies and try to help however I can.

“If I could go back in time, I would do it all again. Is it hard on my wife? Absolutely. We are trying to have children and it’s difficult. At 37 years old, I get a rare life-altering cancer. Being told I most likely would die, going through one of the worst surgeries a human can go through, chemo, over 30 blood transfusions, it sucks, life is not so easy for me, but not every life goes as planned and is perfect. Sometimes you’re the bat and sometimes the ball. I stay positive, and always have a smile on my face because of the support of my wife, family and friends. Of course, I have bad days, but I always look out for people out there a lot worse off than me—then I try to find them and help if I can. I am very blessed and grateful for the life I have and everyone who supports me and my wife. Every day when I wake up in the morning, I ask myself how I can pay it forward.

“By the way, this is not just my story. There’s a lot of people like me, who responded to 9/11 and lot of them are going through difficult stuff: PTSD, medical problems, and there’s a lot of people way worse off than me. Do I have it bad? Yeah. But everyone has adversity in their lives we have to get through. There are a million other people going through things because of 9/11, 20 years later. I’m just one of them. But do I believe one person can make a difference in the world? Absolutely.”

‘For those of us that were there, it’s an anniversary every day. Each day I think about something from that day. I tell everyone to live their day as if it is their last.’

Lynbrook

“On the morning of September 11th, I worked on the 87th floor of One World Trade, north tower, at the May Davis Group, a retail investment banking firm. I was a little late that day because Monday Night Football was the night before. I got to work at 8:30. There were 13 of us at the office at the time. I started my day drinking my coffee and checking emails. At 8:46, the first plane hit about 12 floors above us. At the point of impact, the building swayed about 10 feet to the left. I was holding on to my desk thinking the building was going to tip over. That was really scary. When it swayed back, none of us had any idea what had happened, we just saw debris pouring out from above. We didn’t see any flames, so we thought maybe a pipeline had exploded, not that a plane had hit right above us.

“After about 10 minutes, the smoke started pouring in. It was getting too heavy to stay, so a bunch of us tried to find objects to break the windows and get fresh air into the building. Finally, we decided to get out of there. We formed a chain and went out a back exit because the floor had collapsed at the front exit. As we worked our way down, there was a gentleman sitting who was having a hard time breathing. Our head trader, Harry Ramos, stayed with the gentleman, and insisted that we keep going. He said he would stay behind with him. The man’s name turned out to be Victor. Harry is the only person May Davis lost that day.

“As we got to floor 40, we started to see the firemen coming up. We were clapping and cheering them on, still having no idea what had happened. When cell service returned, we started hearing rumors about the Sears Tower and Empire State Building getting hit. It was a hidden blessing that we had no idea. It was orderly. There were times we were walking under fire, and office workers in suits and ties were hosing down the fires on the ceiling so you could walk under it.

“While we were in the stairwell, the South Tower got hit. We had no idea about that either. In the lobby we finally knew something horrible was going on. The first thing we heard was ‘Don’t look left! Go down this stairway and exit underground.’ Of course, we all had to look left.

We made our way down into the mall and toward Church Street. As we got out, we heard a loud rumble; I looked back and saw the south tower coming down.

“That’s where all the jumpers were landing, right outside the glass door. I will never forget the sounds of it. It turned out to be hundreds of people that jumped. The look of helplessness on the FBI agents every time someone hit; there was nothing those people could do but jump or burn. The floor inside by us had a foot of water from the sprinklers. Firemen, secret service, FBI were everywhere.

“We made our way down into the mall and toward Church Street. As we got out, we heard a loud rumble; I looked back and saw the south tower coming down. It was 100 yards away. I froze until it was halfway down, thinking, ‘This isn’t real.’ Then my brain said to move. I jumped under a Borders Books awning. The steel beams were landing right outside the overhang, so it turned out to be the best thing that I did. Two other people jumped under after me, and we started praying and screaming. The huge cloud buried us. It went from really loud sounds to pitch black and silence.

“We thought we were dead. We got up and walked around the debris, coughing and throwing up from the dust. I was outside when the north tower collapsed, so then another dust cloud came over. I ran a bit up north by Washington Square Park and found a reporter by City Hall. She explained what was going on and let me use her phone to call my mother. That’s when I first broke down. For the ten-year anniversary of 9/11, the reporter found me and played a tape of our conversation. I lost it again.

“I lived in Jersey at the time of 9/11, so I made my way to Battery Park where they were running ferries back to Hoboken. I was covered in dust with my clothes ripped. I took my train home and found my mother sitting at the train station, where she had been waiting for me for four hours. I lost it yet again. Later, we discovered that Harry didn’t get out. The last time he and Victor were seen they were somewhere near the thirtieth floor. They almost made it down. When they found Harry and Victor’s remains, they were still together. Their names are on panel N-63 of the memorial together. The families wanted them to be next to each other, so it’s pretty cool that Harry is still with Victor and still stayed by his side.

I felt I had to do more with my second chance. I owe it to Harry and all these other people. I’m still in banking, but instead of living off people, I help my employees and clients grow their careers and do better for their families.

“The hardest thing for me was the survivor’s guilt. I still have it, but I don’t dwell on it as much. At the time, I was a 28-year-old punk kid being a stockbroker. Why the hell did I get out and all these amazing people didn’t? Mothers, fathers, Harry… Why didn’t I tell Harry to go and I’d stay behind? He had a family, including a newborn. He stayed behind with a complete stranger. There was nothing I could have done, but the guilt is still there. Nobody got out above the point of impact.

“The media has stopped talking about those people, and they’re heroes. They made their choice how to go. My heart breaks for them. I try to turn my experience into a positive. In high school, my dream was to be a stockbroker, to be on Wall Street, and to make millions of dollars. After 9/11, I lost that fire. I felt I had to do more with my second chance. I owe it to Harry and all these other people. I’m still in banking, but instead of living off people, I help my employees and clients grow their careers and do better for their families.

“I had heartburn for years afterwards; I was diagnosed with GERD, which is when the esophagus is damaged and it can form cancer. It turns out it is the number one side effect for 9/11 survivors. I’m on a prescription that is controlling and reversing it, so I dodged a bullet twice. So many people are getting sick from it now.

“For those of us that were there, it’s an anniversary every day. Each day I think about something from that day. Twenty years went by quickly. I still carry my May Davis ID in my wallet to remember. Every year I go to the memorial and pay respects. It’s healing to me to pause and reflect, and to realize how lucky I am. I tell my 6-year-old kids that daddy worked in that building and something bad happened. I say that daddy is lucky to be here. My kids and I always thank firemen, policemen and soldiers when we see them.

“I tell everyone to live their day as if it is their last. When I went to work that day, I had fought with my girlfriend that morning. I had never told my mother how I loved her and how much she meant to me. Love your family, love your friends, and make sure they know. Do everything to its fullest.”

‘Some of the stuff that I saw I’ll never forget and I’ll never share it.’

Hempstead

“My mother and father were always for me being a firefighter, even though other people told me you have to be some kind of crazy to go into a burning building when everybody else is running out. I grew up in Hempstead in a family that’s all about serving the community. My father was a Hempstead auxiliary police officer. I always saw him giving back to the community. I thought at one time about becoming a police officer. I took the police exam, but they never called. I also took the test for corrections officer, but that didn’t work out either. I took those as signs that maybe that wasn’t my path.

“One day in the late 1990s when I was working for the Village of Hempstead, I was having a conversation with the Hempstead police chief, and I told him how I always wanted to join the Hempstead Fire Department. He said, ‘Are you serious?’ I said, ‘Yes sir,’ and he drove me to the fire department. They asked me a few questions, but they knew my father and they knew my family, and the rest is history.

“I became a firefighter in 1997 and six years later got to the rank of captain. We’ve had our share of bad fires. We’ve had guys that have gotten hurt, but none of our guys have passed away since I’ve been at a fire. I’ve been through a lot of things myself. One day I was on the second floor inside a house on fire. I had thrown a mattress that was on fire out the window, and then I picked up the box spring, which was also on fire, and threw it out the same window. The box spring hooked onto my bunker coat, and I went out the window with it. One of the firefighters working with me in the room grabbed my boot, and another gave me a hook to get the box spring off me. Then they pulled me back in. I poked my head out the window, one of the guys on the ground threw my helmet up to me, and I just kept going. What I didn’t know at the time was that my mother was in the crowd watching from the street.

“At dinner that night my mother said, ‘Can you believe it — today I saw a guy hanging out a window!’ My father and siblings already knew that was me, but I hadn’t told my mother. Everybody at the table looked at me. My mother looked at me, put her knife and fork down, and said, raising her voice just a little: ‘Don’t tell me that was you!’

I never imagined our fire department would be going to Ground Zero, but we actually got the call to respond the next day.

“I was at the Chevy dealer in Hempstead purchasing a new vehicle on the morning of 9/11 when the first plane went into the tower. Everybody in the dealership was running toward a television set in the manager’s office. After the second plane hit, we knew that it wasn’t a plane flying too low; we were being attacked.

“At the time, I was a lieutenant in the Hempstead Fire Department South Side Hose Company No. 2. I went to the firehouse and everybody’s watching TV in disbelief. I never imagined our fire department would be going to Ground Zero, but we actually got the call to respond the next day. We took a couple of our trucks with a military escort into the city. We were working with the FDNY, the NYPD and a cadaver dog to look for survivors and body parts in the pit where the World Trade Center had been. You’re down there with a lot of twisted metal, debris, body parts. It was so hot, you couldn’t wear the mask you were given, so you were inhaling the smoke and toxins that were in the air. It was so hot we couldn’t wear out bunker jackets, we only wore bunker pants with a shirt and our gloves.

“Seeing what you saw on TV, and being there, were two different things. There was a stench that you couldn’t forget, of jet fuel and everything still burning around you; people walking around covered from head to toe in soot. We were looking for human remains, for people who were trapped. Body parts we found; survivors, no.

“Some of the stuff that I saw I’ll never forget and I’ll never share it. Putting body parts in buckets or things you came across so people could be identified — that’s nothing that we get trained for in the fire service. We didn’t know it at the time, but two of our Hempstead volunteers who were also FDNY had passed away. They found one in a stairwell — his body was still intact —and there was another gentleman they never found, Mike, he was a good dude. We had no clue they had passed away. We knew they were probably there, but we thought they were doing what we were doing. Six days later, I went back to the dealer and got a Ford Explorer. They knew where I’d been. The manager came out and shook my hand and thanked me for my service. The car was still waiting there. The owner of the dealership even cut me a break on the price.

Over the radio they told us to find an air pocket and stay put, and they would be looking to hopefully pull us up, and at that time I didn’t think that was ever going to happen.

“I was with my fellow Hempstead Fire Department firefighters looking for body parts about 60 feet down in the pit where the World Trade Center had been, when Tower 7 went down. It sounded like a bomb went off. Everything went dark. The ropes we’d rappelled in on went from very taut to very loose. The people that had been controlling them had to run. I was in the pit along with a Hempstead fire captain, who many years later became a chief. The chief who was outside of the pit was screaming over the radio trying to find out where our guys were. There was actually a fire going on in Hempstead at the time, and the dispatcher made everybody in Hempstead go quiet so she could hear us at Ground Zero.

“Over the radio they told us to find an air pocket and stay put, and they would be looking to hopefully pull us up, and at that time I didn’t think that was ever going to happen. I said a prayer for everybody that was down there with me and I prayed to see my family and prayed to God to hopefully see my daughter and be able to kiss her again.

“My cell phone was in my pocket, but down there in that pit, I didn’t think of grabbing it. I don’t exactly remember how long it took to get the “all clear” and pull us back up, but it felt like an eternity. When we got out of the pit, I literally got on my knees and said, ‘Thank you, Jesus!’ The sun was sill shining. I remember them giving us McDonald’s and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. When I got home, the first person that greeted me at the door was my mother. She was so happy to see me. I just took off my stuff at the front door, that’s how dirty I was. My mother washed my clothes, but to find out that all the stuff I was covered in was asbestos — that was a little unnerving. I never had asthma issues until after 9/11, and as far as any other health-related issues, I have none that I can say are 9/11-related, so I’ve been lucky in that sense.

“Honestly, I haven’t been back to Ground Zero, although I’ve spoken at other 9/11 events. 9/11 changed the way I look at the world and the way I look at day-to-day life. Life isn’t promised to you. Anything can happen.”

Interviewed by Jim Merritt

‘I believe people with Down syndrome can do anything—really, really anything!’

Lake Grove

“I saw a video in 2014 about people helping to welcome babies with Down syndrome. I was shocked. The video says, ‘Welcome to the family. Welcome to the world.’ That’s when I realized that most parents of newborns with Down syndrome only hear, ‘I’m sorry.’ Sometimes they’re told, ‘Don’t take the baby home.’

“I told my parents my heart wanted to help so badly to tell parents it’s going to be okay, to celebrate this baby because it’s a baby. I wanted to make baskets to welcome them. We made Brittany’s Baskets of Hope with a website and social media. We hooked up with Down syndrome associations on their list of resources.

“In 2016, I delivered my first basket. Parents of little boys and girls with Down syndrome get a basket with sunglasses, bottles, pacifiers, toys, books, a Down Right Perfect onesie and resources. Some people donate knitted booties, hats and crocheted blankets. We’ve sent out 1,415 baskets. The entire world gets the baskets from us.

I’m a role model so that they know that life is going to be okay and their baby’s going to live a great life.

“When we have a local baby, we ask if we could deliver it in person and that’s the best part. I say, ‘Welcome to the family. Welcome to the world.’ I know the moms are worried about whether their babies are going to be healthy, if they’re going to be accepted and if people are going to make fun of them. I tell them, ‘You can do whatever you want.’ I’m a role model so that they know that life is going to be okay and their baby’s going to live a great life. I always say I believe people with Down syndrome can do anything — really, really anything! I’m 32. I live my life the way I want. I have a good life. I love to sing and dance. I do carpool karaoke with my staff through an adult program called Self Direction who help me. I go to beaches, movies, out to dinner and vineyards. I work at Party City.

“We want moms of new babies to know that it’s going to be okay. I was the L’Oréal Paris 2019 Women of Worth national honoree. I walked the red carpet and met celebrities. I was invited to LA to do a video and ads for their 2020 campaign. My favorite part of doing this work is when I get to hold the babies. Down syndrome is not the only part of me. I want the message not to be ‘I’m sorry,’ but ‘Congratulations. We so welcome this baby.’”

‘Every day, I wake up excited to continue to build, and everything I do is motivated by my family. I want to give them the world.’

Greenport

“I left “Corporate America” in 2008 and moved back to Greenport, the village where I grew up. It called me back, as I missed the small town feel but knew I wouldn’t miss the hour-and-a-half commute I was making from Brooklyn to Manhattan. I had done some baking in college and opened a cupcake shop called Butta’ Cakes Bakery in 2008 until SuperStorm Sandy, which wreaked havoc on the store, destroying equipment and my passion for baking, leaving us wanting to transition to something different.

“Around the same time of the storm, my son, Joseph, was born, and he spent some time in the hospital after his birth due to high fevers. During a trip to Boston, we had ended up at this cool luchador-themed restaurant. Being a wrestling fan since a young kid, I fell in love with the concept. My son’s experience and the luchador theme came together as the inspiration for my restaurant, named “Lucharitos,” which translates into “little fighter,” because that’s what he is.

They give me a reason every morning to smile and be thankful and stay humble.

“We launched in Greenport in 2013, and then everything changed. Things caught on quickly. We expanded in 2015, then opened a second location in Aquebogue in 2017. In 2019, we bought a small farmhouse in Center Moriches and transformed it into this kind-of taco and margarita oasis restaurant with its own farm, chickens and a giant sand box where we host events.

“Over the pandemic, we also launched a “burrito bar” in Mattituck, next to the Mattituck Cinemas movie theater—which led to our taking over its concession station—and now we’re working on a location in Melville, which will be opening in late August and will be a blueprint for future locations we hope to see rise across the East Coast.

“Every day, I wake up excited to continue to build, and everything I do is motivated by my family, by my three boys. I want to give them the world. I owe them that. They give me a reason to keep building. They give me a reason every morning to smile and be thankful and stay humble. Being a restauranteur makes me challenge myself and our teams to be consistent, accountable, proactive and prepared, but at the end of the day, being a parent makes being a restauranteur seem pretty easy. They also remind me to enjoy the ride.”

Interviewed by Ian J. Stark

‘The tattoo apprenticeship helped bring me back to me.’

Coram

“Tattooing kind of saved me from a pretty dark time in my life. My mom was diagnosed with cancer and passed away 10 years ago as I was starting to get into it. She was the most excited out of anybody. She wanted me to design something for her and tattoo it on her. I sadly didn’t get a chance to, so I put it on myself on my left forearm. It’s a heart with a banner that says ‘Mom,’ an anchor for my grandfather who was in the Navy, the Yankees logo because she was a fan, four-leaf clovers for her Irish heritage and Pepe Le Pew.

“I’ve been tattooing for the last 10 years or so, beginning with an apprenticeship at Michael Angelo Ink, where I work now. I’ve been doing art my entire life, I went to school for art at SUNY Purchase, got a degree in fine arts, drawing and painting. I didn’t choose this career on purpose. It kind of happened by circumstance. I happened to buy a kit on Amazon. The equipment you get is not good at all. I was a client at Michael Angelo Ink before I was an employee and I decided to go the traditional route. I learned everything I know about tattooing and am definitely a better artist because of it.

I didn’t choose this career on purpose. It kind of happened by circumstance.

“I’ve always been interested in comic book art and that’s what really got me into art, especially as a kid. My parents and grandparents would buy comics for me. I was always drawing since I could pick up a pencil. I would emulate comic book art, now I do a lot of pop culture stuff; Disney, Star Wars and superheroes.

“After college I was like, ‘What do I do now? What kind of art profession can I get?’ I was working in an office doing data entry and then got the apprenticeship. Being a client and getting tattoos as often as I was, I became friends with my tattoo artist, and he said, ‘You should actually do this for a living.’ I don’t have an exact number of tattoos that I have, probably in the 30s, I’m pretty covered. It’s all stuff that I grew up with: comic books, video games and cartoons, all pop culture stuff.

“I have matching tattoos with my wife, so those are meaningful as well. The apprenticeship got me back into art and helped bring me back to me.”

Interviewed by Rachel O’Brien – Morano

‘I remember watching Tessa battle cancer while smiling and making the best of every situation. She wanted to make every moment count. That’s how I try to live my life.’

Melville

“My mom had two young kids when she was diagnosed with Ewing’s sarcoma, which is typically found in children. Because of this, she was treated on the pediatric floor at Sloan Kettering Cancer Center; her roommates and everyone on the floor were kids. My dad was surrounded by everyone’s parents even though he was there for his wife. Her situation was very rare.

“When she was better, we would help kids with cancer by attending fundraisers and events. I’m 22, and I’m lucky enough that she got to see me graduate from college, something she was told she would never get to see. It shows that research and awareness matters.

“This led me to beginning my foundation, Whip Pediatric Cancer. In 2015, I started an internet challenge with a popular dance at the time, “The Whip and Nae Nae.” I posted a video of myself doing it and I challenged my friends and family to do the same. It exploded on Facebook with more than 10,000 videos submitted using #WhipPediatricCancer.

I have visited more than 150 kids and we’ve become like family.

“We wanted to do more, so we started the Heart of Gold program which teaches kids that you are never too young to make a difference. You visit the Website and request as many hearts as you need for your school or class, and then kids will decorate them. They bring back a suggested donation of $2. We do it every September for Pediatric Cancer Awareness month. Gold is the color for childhood cancer.

“My favorite part of my non-profit is when I get to visit with the kids. I have visited more than 150 kids and we’ve become like family. It’s eye-opening to see what they go through, how resilient they are and how much they appreciate the visits.

“We also visit with the siblings because it’s hard for them too-the family relationships’ focus is usually on the sick kids. We’ve raised more than $750,000 for research and helping families who are struggling because they lost their jobs during COVID.

“Through the kids, I have learned to live in the moment. I have lost 30 kids that I was very close to, but I always remember watching Tessa battle cancer while smiling and making the best of every situation. Even at the end of her life we were baking brownies. She wanted to make every moment count. That’s how I try to live my life.”