Anthony Teringo

Anthony Robert Tricano Teringo, age 62, of Bethlehem, PA, by way of New York City and Massapequa Park, Long Island, passed on May 26th just before midnight, leaving a gaping hole in the hearts of all who knew and loved him. The adopted and adored son of Catherine and Frank Tricano, of Massapequa Park and Brooklyn, NY, Anthony grew up on suburban Long Island under the endlessly sunny skies that nourished his father's prized and perfectly manicured pink azalea. The Mr. Softee's ice cream truck always paid a visit, and the streets and yards were open for all-day play. Anthony and his live-in cousin, Michael, tooled around on bikes his dad taught them to ride, played games of "Army" with neighborhood kids, and hunted for (but never hurt) frogs and turtles, enjoying the idyllic lives we all desire for our young children.
Indoors, Frank toiled with his woodworking in the basement, masterfully building and painting, most notably, a nearly life-sized Santa Claus with requisite sled and reindeer, propped up year after year on a snow-covered front lawn. It was pure Christmas magic on display on that busy Massapequa corner for friends, cousins, and passers-by. "Aunt Katie" managed affairs upstairs, including keeping her boys fed, body and soul, and ensuring that their clothes were clean and faces scrubbed, something Anthony was determined to undermine at every turn. During the school year she'd shuffle her boys off each morning, tucked-in and tidy, with books, pencils, and lunchboxes full of snacks, only to greet them several hours later with Michael looking exactly as she'd left him, and Anthony covered in grime and grit and as disheveled as a small boy can get. It is suspected that he'd had more fun in grade school than did Michael.
In 1970 Michael moved back to Mineola, NY, full-time, to live with his brothers and mother, before ultimately moving to rural Pennsylvania on a job-related transfer for mom. A few years later Anthony entered a rather difficult adolescence. Young teens can be feral and mean, so when Catherine learned that her Anthony was being bullied at school and teased for how he looked and dressed, she uprooted the family, sold the house, and moved to what she prayed would be a more tolerant, open-minded California. When that failed, as well-intended pipe dreams often do, they returned to the east, stopping in, and finally relocating to, Macungie, PA, where Catherine's sister Ella, and Michael, had landed the previous year. Mercifully, the kids in Macungie found Anthony nothing short of fascinating. There was no bullying, no teasing, and not only because Anthony had grown to 6'3". He was such a kind and a gentle giant that the kids just wanted to hang out with him, riveted by the zany stories he told in his thick New York accent and deepening voice. And the girls, they just wanted to hold hands with him and skip down the street singing songs. The boys were displeased, of course, but Anthony had found peace and lifestyle acceptance in a small town surrounded by cornfields. Go figure. And after so many years, Anthony was reunited with his faithful sidekick, his loving cousin Michael. They graduated high school, together, in 1979.
Pennsylvania now became home to Anthony and his family, and soon the magnetism that had so-attracted high school girls would draw both women and men to him, young adults who found a fast friend and a sexy charisma that was palpable, even electric in the new disco era. Anthony had been going to New York and getting into Studio 54 (and other nightclubs) long before he was legally permitted to do so, and no wonder: he was a tall, shining star and a dazzling dancer. Bouncers simply smiled and stepped aside for him. He was living on his own terms now, unapologetically, from this era on and for the rest of his life. A young man, in full.
One fortuitous day a dashing young stylist from a New York City hair salon came into the shop where Anthony was now working, to demonstrate some new technique or product, and a bond was quickly formed. Anthony and Eddie Teringo would begin a two-decade romance, moving together to New York City in late 2000, and finally marrying on November 5th, 2014-as soon as new laws finally permitted such a righteous union. And it was time; Anthony and Eddie were effectively spouses from the beginning, a beautiful couple, both tall, handsome, and tattooed, so very ready for every adventure the big City would present. And it was Eddie who stood by Anthony when Catherine died in 2000. He was crushed by her passing, unmoored and despondent, and it was Eddie who helped him correct course and carry on.
Anthony continued styling hair in New York, but also found work at a Bloomingdales that was starting up in SoHo, becoming a women's fashion stylist. Yes, the wealthy women of lower Manhattan needed designer dresses and who better than Anthony to guide them? Like those girls in high school, women were drawn to him and trusted him absolutely. During that same period, he befriended a single, elderly SoHo resident named Harvey who was dying of cancer and in need of both nursing and companionship. Like his dear mother, Anthony was uniquely built for the job, bringing unconditional friendship, even levity to Harvey in the final stages of his life. Anthony was a natural; he formalized that experience and made a career of it by becoming a Certified Nurse's Assistant, spending the next 22 years doing the kind of work most of us can't or don't want to imagine. God's work, if you will. Occupational and other stresses, however, along with financial burdens, began to tear at the fabric of Anthony's marriage to Eddie and, after a return to Pennsylvania, the two parted ways, but never stopped loving or caring for each other. Theirs was a bond that would survive until the very end of Anthony's life.
Never idle, and always seeking love and adventure, Anthony was soon drawn to the final love of his life, Eric Mankowski. Six years long, their relationship included local travel, house hunting, antiquing, dancing, much laughter, and Anthony's eventual adoption of Eric's Shih-Tzu, Max, becoming Max's "mommie" and constant companion. All animals, but surely dogs, were always a mainstay in Anthony's life, dating back to Mickey, the beagle who howled loudly back in Massapequa Park, and lasting all the way to Harry, the Pit bull-Lab mix he rescued, and that Anthony gifted to Eddie quite recently. Further travels brought Eric and Anthony to Woods Campground, a free-spirited community in the secluded Pennsylvania hills. This became Anthony's self-described "happy place" where he bought and renovated a small camper, painted it pink and unfurled a matching pink awning and welcome mat. This home away from home was situated on a "seasonal site" that was centrally located, attracting many new friends, fans of the color pink, and generally "happy" campers.
Anthony lit up Eric's life and vice versa; they spent their last years together in bliss. Anthony even "spoke" to Eric's late mother, daily, and befriended his dad, calling him Daddy-o, which he loved. Eric's father, brother, and nephews, became a second family to Anthony, and he, a son, brother, and uncle, to them, loving them like they were his own. He said grace at family dinners, and in his way, kept God's spirit and Grace with the family. Eric stayed by Anthony's side until the very end, tending to every need and loving him so dearly and thoroughly. Hard as it surely is for Eric to lose his dear partner, and for Michael to lose his beloved cousin, they will find comfort in the knowledge that they were loved deeply by the most magnanimous, generous, and considerate creature to have graced this planet. While we ALL grieve with Eric, Eddie, Michael and even Max, we rejoice in our good fortune to have held him so close in our own lives. God bless you, Anthony. You are, and always will be, a giant.
-Cousin Michael