In Memoriam, Vincent Ungro.
A man who went from a regular radio caller, to an irreplaceable friend.
“Vinny in New York on Line 1.”
It was a common refrain from producer Paul, back in the days of the Breitbart News Daily radio show back in 2014, through 2016. The show was mostly hosted by Stephen K. Bannon, but often with me in either the “co-pilot” seat, or filling in when Steve was otherwise engaged. The latter were my favorite shows, because as a regular visitor to the United States, it provided the opportunity to speak with a vast array of callers from across the nation.
There were truckers, and housewives and manual laborers, and there were academics, former servicemen, Members of Congress, and pollsters. It was a cross-section of American civil society. Three hours a day of the pains and frustrations, the ideas and the hope, the questions and theories of the ordinary and the extraordinary of the United States.
And then there was Vinny. Always ready to go. On Line 1, or maybe Line 2. At 5:58am Eastern time.
Someone who felt at comfort with either the ordinary or extraordinary – in politics, in ideals, and in his personal life – Vinny was a proud Italian-American who laid waste to his local lefties when they came for the statue of Christopher Columbus. He was a real life, Staten Island, patriotic American family man with a heart of gold and a head for politics.
Vinny would rant off about the establishment Republicans almost as much as he would about the globalist left. He even made it onto Fox News and garnered headlines in the Daily Mail, the New York Post, and CBS News, when a wildly left-wing teacher attempted to set one of his kids some anti-Trump homework.
It was these fighting qualities amongst others that made me want to become friends with Vinny, having spoken to him for hours on end over the Sirius XM airwaves.
We would meet at the Churchill Tavern in New York City, and set the world to rights over pints of Old Speckled Hen, an English pale ale that Vinny knew would always quench my homesickness.
One time, after a rare – ahem – Twitter spat, Vinny offered to drive from Staten Island to Washington, D.C., pick me up, then ferry me to Richmond, VA where some frightful feminist had demanded to have an in-person debate. Like a true friend and a crazy bastard, he did it. Driving all the way and stopping only so that I could relieve myself behind a truck on the highway, only for the nonsensical liberal to claim she had become too busy to show. We didn’t mind. We went to a local pub and listened to The Who and drank a few amber ales. We drank a lot of ale together, Vinny and I.
We also did a lot of good work together.
In addition to being one of our first ever National Pulse Fellows – a program wherein I helped people in their writing – Vinny also became a member and supporter of the New York Young Republican Club, an organization that has enjoyed growth from just 90 paying members three years ago, to over 1,000 today.
One of my favorite memories with Vinny will be his attendance at the NYYRC gala. In his parlance, “We had a blast!”
I could go on and on about my friend Vinny – born in Brooklyn; an Islanders, Metallica, and tattoo obsessive. But for Vinny, the most important thing was always family. Man, he never shut up about his family. He was so proud and supportive of them all. His cousins, his parents Stephen and Jean, his wife Judith, and his children and grandkids: Steve, Nicholas, Gabriella, and Mia, followed by Madison, Gabriella, Natalie, and Oliver.
As his son Steve reminded me this past week, Vinny loved his job, working for the ASPCA, and taking care of animals. He would often regale me with how exhausting it was, but how it was worth it to help in every way he could. Like almost all tough, old school, New York guys, Vinny was a softie deep down.
He worked his job for over 20 years, and even had a large leaving party last week. He had just taken a new gig with VETCO on Staten Island. The day after he passed away was actually supposed to be his first day on the job.
Vinny died in his sleep, last week, at the young age of 52. I cannot tell you how much I will miss that crazy bastard. He was the ordinary, and the extraordinary. He taught me so much of what I know about America. And I know America learned so much from him, too.
Vincent Ungro was born on March 14th, 1970 and passed away on September 5th, 2022 at the age of 52.
Thanks for reading this, folks. As an aside, and one which I know Vinny would not mind at all in this comments section, I am raising money for 9/11 charity Tunnel to Towers in their 5K run in a few weeks and it would mean the world to me if you would consider sponsoring: https://runsignup.com/raheem
What the hell, man. This is the second In Memoriam from you in a very short period of time for a well respected friend who died WAY TOO YOUNG. Your tribute was lovely but the trend is disturbing and occurring way too often these days.