little bit of history, He worked on the rail road when he was young,
then in his moms pet shop. Also Served in the Coast Guard.
He married Florence Miglorie (my mom) in --- They had thee kids, Jill,
Myself and Kelly. At that time I believe he was working at a service
station, then he was a fireman, then somehow he bought a service
station. That didn't pan out so we moved to San Jose and he drove a
truck for Meadow Gold Dairy Products. Here he is in his old army
jacket. He would ware this when he got a chance to go hunting and
It was when he was most happy.
This was the look I always got from him, like...what are you doing now?
Here is a cool
shot of him standing in front of his 1908 Reo.
I think this was
his first real nice collectors automobile.
This had to be taken in the sixtys. I remember a time when I was about
5 years old he took me on a day trip in this car. (just me, not my
stupid sisters) I had a great time.
People were pointing and smiling. It was a great day.
|In the seventys his hobbie was
racing Volkswagens. He had a light blue
bug he called ladybug. I remember he would come home from the track
with a trophy every couple weeks. They would go up on the mantle.
day the guy he was suppose to race had engine trouble and couldn't
race. My mom had a red convertible Volkswagen and was at the track. He
told her to register her car and they would race. Of course it was a
joke because her car was stock but he wanted to run his bug. Well he
blew the engine and my mom won! The trophy she got was taller than any
So he continued to race until he
got a trophy that was bigger
than hers and then quit and never raced again.
he decided to go into Real Estate in 1974. He had a passion for hunting
thats how he made his money, He went out every morning hunting for
people who wanted to sell there house. He didn't care to find houses
for clients, he got listings and let others sell them for him. It
worked extremely well for him. In 1984 he got his brokers license
and made his first million.
He got the
house of his dreams. It was an elegant three-story Victorian mansion
built in 1898 with widows peak and all. Counting the full basement
(that was turned into a speak easy durring prohibition) and the attic
(that held his gun
collection and a pool table)
It had 4 floors and a widows peak. This was perfect for my dad, While
he restored the home he added secret passages ways. He was a big time
collector, Guns, Coins, Cars, and all types of antique furniture. I
would need a whole page to show you all the cars. Bently, Merecdes,
Jaguar, to name a few. And guns? forget about it, he had over a
thousand. Not automatic assualt weapons but old Colts and Winchesters.
A few modern Hunting rifles he used for big game hunting. I swear the
place was like a museum. In 1987 The Mercury news had a full page
artical about the house. Actually I have it. Thats where I got this
picture.I scanned it and touched it up the best I could.
He hunted in California for Mule deer and wild bore. I went on a couple
trips with him when I was young. I think I was 12 or 13
when i got my deer. It was a fork mule deer. I remember they stuck my
head in the carcuss after I gutted it. said it was tradition.
Then he took several hunting trips to Alaska. Here is a shot of him
fishing for samon while he was up there. He wasn't much of a fisherman.
He did it but he prefered to hunt.
The game he took there was Kodiak Brown Bear, Black Bear, Doll Ram,
Mountain Goat, Moose and Caribou.
I am sure there was more but thats what I recall. Its kind hard not to
remember them, You see when a hunter gets a trophy like that he takes
it to a taxidermist and has the animals bust mounted. Then proudly
displays them on the wall. We had then in every room of the house. I
have pictures of a couple of them I posted below.
when he did go fishing he did it right. Here he is in Hawaii. Thats
a Marlin ... A big one. we had fishsticks for days.
I said, He did things in a big way. His car collection of antique cars
included a Bentley, Mercedes, and a MG. all late 40's early 50's with
the big flared fenders and all convertibles. All in pristine condition.
He had several other cars that he would display in car shows as well
but those were my favorites. Well, I liked the mustangs too.
His coin and bottle collection was extensive however his collection of
antique fire arms was the largest. I would say when he died he had over
3000 pieces. Not to mention modern day hunting rifles. He was very
private about his collections and would not allow any pictures taken so
unfortunately I have nothing to show you. I wanted his current wife to
donate his colt collection to a museum but that never happened.
However I do have
some pictures of his trophy hunts. Be aware these are pictures of
animals killed in the wild so if that bothers you maybe you should stop
He never liked reporters.
I will save
the best for last,
of all here is a picture of him and his world record size Caribou.
This was taken in Alaska, he went for two weeks I think. I remember he
told me that they took a helecopter out to the area that the heard was
in and spotted them from the air.
Then they dropped him off they made camp and went after the heard the
next day on foot. He spotted the big bull from the air the previous day
and didnt want any other one. It took a while but he got him.
He was asked to do an interview for a hunting magizne but he turned
them down. I guess he felt it was his accomplishment and the hell with
Wouldn't you know
exactly what happened to him. He was crossing one about a mile wide and
all of the sudden about 30 yards to his right the ground started to
move. it was pulling him into it. He turned and ran the opposite
direction but he wasn't going anywhere fact of the matter is he was
losing ground and about to be sucked into the hole until a huge boulder
about the size of a house went in the
hole and plugged it up. The man got his goat.
|The Alaskan Mountain goat.
it was dumb to kill a goat but after I talked to him I understood why
he wanted it for his collection. You see the hunt for a mountain goat
is the most difficult hunts you can ever make
The animal is not that dangerous its the terrain. They live in the
mountains. To get to the mountains you need to cross a lot of ice.
that are several years old are very unpredictable. They are not solid,
they have streams of water running through them. This melts the ice
from the inside out and forms creators in the shape of a pyramid under
the ice. So you could be walking along what seems to be a perfectly
solid earth and it just gives way.
|The Legend of Broken Tooth,
the seventys there was a large Kodiak brown bear in Alaska that was
terrorizing the natives. My dad had read about this bear. He followed
storys about hunters that went after the bear only to be killed by it.
There were eleven men, hunters, guides and one photographer that fell
victim to this single bear. After examine the carcases of the dead men
they realized the reason this bear was a killer. The bear had a broken
tooth and had grown a custom to pain. When a hunter shot it, If the
shot wasn't fatal it just pissed him off. Then the hunt turned around.
It turns out the bear would duck for cover, sneak around behind, attack
and kill the hunter. The natives call the great bear "Broken Tooth"
It took my
dad a couple years to save up the money and to find a guide who was
willing to go after the bear.
He finally did.
There is a
recorded story of the hunt in his journals however his second wife will
not release them to us. From what I remember he was armed with a Bolt
action Browning 300 mag. His guide had a shotgun with solid shells for
protection. The terrain was of small mounds of frozen earth about six
feet tall and 50 yards long. Several of them creating natural hiding
places. I believe they call it The Tundra. He was guided to the general
location of the bear, Spotted him about 150 yards away took a shot, hit
the bear. The bear shook his coat like it was wet and looked in his
direction. The guide ran. Then the bear disappeared into one of the
small valleys. Dad knew the bears strategies so he did the same thing.
As he circled he spotted the bear again. He shot it again, the bear
didn't seem to be hurt. It came at him. He thought since the first
couple shots to the center of the bear didn't seem to affect him he
would shoot his limbs and break the bones to slow him down. After all,
he didn't want to be number thirteen. As they circled he took his
shots. First the powerful forearms, then the rear legs, Believe it or
not the bear kept circling to get a chance to attack. He found it, from
about thirty yards away the bear surprised my dad and lunged at him. He
took a heart shot, then ran a few yards and took another. The bear
dropped face down in a small valley not 10 yards away. As he watched
the bear from the top of the small hill for half an hour the bear
didn't move. He had two shots left out of the twelve cartridges he
carried and was not in any hurry. Finally he decided to get a closer
look. He stepped down into the small valley towards the bear. All at
once the bear raised from the ground and lunged bearing his teeth and
claws. dad stepped back and shot the bear again almost point blank. The
bear went down again, this time his head was in a puddle of melted snow
and dad knew he had stopped breathing. He did it. The bear was dead.
Brokentooth was no more.
The locals were extremely pleased,
there was a festival in his honor. They presented the great hunter with
several gifts, relatives of the people of whom the bear killed gave
him there hand carved mementos. The celebration went on for two days.
The chief gave him his daughter for the
night. He was their hero... yea not the kind of guy you want to
1934 to 1991