February 27,2026- When I was about eight, a group of neighbourhood kids let it be known that there would be a “show” in one of the back yards. The host, who was a cut-up, did a show and tell of wilted flowers, which he stuck under each of our noses, and asked who could smell anything. Then there was Swami the Fortuneteller, a skinny guy about a year older than me, who sported a bed sheet wound around his head like a turban. He made silly predictions, none of which I recall, but the afternoon passed with many of us laughing and having a good time.

Years went by, and I came to know the “Fortuneteller”, his family and their twin German shepherds, Lad and Lady. His mother made the best spaghetti, meatballs and Italian sausage this side of East Boston, from which the family moved to Saugus in 1955. It took a lot to surpass my own mother’s cooking, but Tommy’s mother took Italian cuisine to a whole other level.

Tom went into the Army, not too long after graduating high school, and ended up in an artillery unit, in Viet Nam. I recall making a tape of his extended family, with about eight people contributing their 2 cents. It meant a lot to him to get that tape. When he came back, he had bonded with people of colour and inveighed against what he saw as prejudice. There was no colour in the jungle, except blood red. I was glad to hear that from him.

He went on to get an Associate’s Degree from North Shore Community College, as did several of us in the neighbourhood, myself included. Tom then chose the path of work for the United States Postal Service, following the path set by his maternal uncle. He thrived there and was able to retire after about twenty years or so. He and his then-wife raised three daughters, and he was able to take care of his mother, in her declining years. Tom never let go of his family bonds, and became a beloved grandfather to his three “babies”.

As our lives progressed, we saw one another less and less. I attended his wedding in 1974, before I moved away. When I went back to Saugus, usually once a year, I stopped by his house and we would occasionally go up to Polcari’s or some other pizza place for lunch. He and Beverly were at the reception my parents had for Penny and me, as were several of the guys and their wives. Tom and the gang were also at my father’s wake. After that, a stop at the house on Forest Avenue was a necessary part of any Saugus visit.

Tom passed away last Sunday. He was 77.

Thomas Frank Belmonte never shied away from a challenge and was always ready for a good time. The ability to know the difference between the two was a gift he shared with us. He was also one of the most loyal friends I’ve ever had. Tommy, even from all this distance, I’m gonna miss ya.