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Author Topic: FAUSTO VITELLO (1946-2006)  (Read 48853 times)
Schmitty
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« on: September 08, 2008, 03:19:03 PM »


Fausto Vitello (August 23, 1946 - April 22, 2006) was an American businessman and magazine publisher. Vitello is the creator of Thrasher magazine and co-creator of Independent trucks.

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« Last Edit: September 08, 2008, 04:13:35 PM by Schmitty » Logged

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sallythrasher
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« Reply #1 on: September 12, 2008, 08:59:19 AM »

My dad was my everything. I'm sure I'll edit this a million times because every day I am thinking about my father. I wish that I had given him one last hug before I walked out the door of our house on April 22nd,2006. When I last saw him on that day, he was laying on the couch with my mom, and they looked so happy together. A couple hours later my mom called me to tell me what happened. I didn't believe her, my dad couldn't possible be dead. He was Fausto fucking Vitello, the strongest man in the world. Nothing could kill him. As I waited for my brother to pick me up and take me to the hospital, I was shaking and screaming, not believing that the man who gave me life and taught me everything was dead. I hugged his body at the hospital, asking him to please come back. As crazy as it sounds, I thought he was going to wake up and start laughing and tell me to "fuck off" or something. But he didn't.
My dad was the best.Although he could scare the hell out of me sometimes,I knew that when he got mad it was just because he cared and was worrying about me. I'm so glad that my dad was alive when I kicked my drug and alcohol habit. He let my best friend Lorrisa come and live in our house for 2 years when I got sober because he knew how lonely I was. She quickly became part of our family.
 Every morning when I get to my desk at High Speed, I still wait for him to walk up the stairs. When I go to my mom's house, I still wait for him to come home. I've been through numerous cell phones in the past 2 and a half years, and I still program his number into my phone. I can't tell you how many times I've stared at his number and wanted to call him.
I miss my dad every day. I want to talk to him, and tell him that I'm doing ok. I even miss him yelling at me. I just want him to come home.I'm still waiting for you daddy.

To be continued...
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el ogrehound 3000
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« Reply #2 on: September 12, 2008, 09:35:28 AM »

Unfortunately, I only know Mr. Vitello through seeing him in old Thrasher's, and Indy ads and whatnot.  I do remember always thinking that he was the fucking man, and how I wish that one day I could be a fraction of what he meant to the industry.  Of course I'm not, nor is anyone else.

Wish I could've shook his hand and said thanks.
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Schmitty
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« Reply #3 on: September 12, 2008, 03:27:45 PM »

It's true, I think most that knew him would agree, we all thought him invincible. He was the fearless leader, the one that when he said it had to be one way, there was no arguing. I remember him telling me everything he touched was golden. Fuckin' awesome! Early on memories were him having Zuanich drive him to the bank and wait in the car as he ran in and got shit done, or seeing if Zuch would dress up as a cup of coffee and stand out in front of the cafe he owned. Fausto was fuckin' gnarly, but at the same time, you had to respect him, because when it all came down to it he was right, and he was doing it. When I got the call from Sally crying, the last thing I thought in the world were going to be the following words: "my daddy is dead". I couldn't even believe it. I don't think it really became real until the funeral when I saw all these people crying and kind of wandering around aimlessly looking for someone to tell them it was going to be ok. Every day I drive into work, I look for the white BMW, and sometimes when I see his truck that his son Tony now drives, I hesitate for a quick moment and think—What if... Rest in peace Fausto, and thank you for everything! —Schmitty
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« Reply #4 on: September 16, 2008, 08:45:27 AM »

I'll never forget the day I was interviewed by Fausto for my job.  I remember being so intimidated, but so psyched that I got to talk to the man I had only seen and heard about.  I remember getting on the 22 Fillmore bus to 3rd st.  I sat in the last row of the bus, and looked over and this chick was smoking crack on the bus.  I remember thing "Great, here I am inhaling second hand crack smoke, and I have to go meet Fausto".  Although I didn't know him all that well, he was cool enough to see something in me, that I may not have even seen in myself, and I thank him for that opportunity every day. 

Go fuckin skate, and do everything you want to do no matter what anyone else tells you.  It's YOUR life.....live it!!
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christo
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« Reply #5 on: August 23, 2009, 12:36:52 PM »

i'm the father of a little girl who just turned 7 and if she holds me anywhere near where  sallythrasher holds her daddy to my last breath then fuck it!! !!  i did the damn thing!! properly!!
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Slap1
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« Reply #6 on: August 28, 2009, 10:43:23 AM »

I still have his cell # in my phone.
I still think of him all the time.
I miss his fire- things are a lot different in our world without him.
He was like a second dad to me. He gave me a chance and I'll never forget that.
I find myself saying all the time, "What would Fausto do? What would Fausto think?"

Lance Dawes
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SlingzGuy
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« Reply #7 on: August 31, 2009, 03:49:45 PM »

Dunno what to say 'cept you and the family are in our prayers... always
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el ogrehound 3000
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« Reply #8 on: April 22, 2010, 01:32:10 PM »

NEVER FORGET!
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Harbinger
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« Reply #9 on: April 22, 2010, 04:24:57 PM »

Instead of the common "yer blowing it",
or obvious ignoring of the issue,
Fausto was the first person to actually sit me down & attempt a dialogue about my rampant drug use.
No one had tried it because they knew I wouldn't have engaged in that conversation with ANYONE,
but he wasn't anyone,
he's a founding father of Skateboarding, 
& if Fausto tells you to sit, you sit.
So I sat.
I sat grinning like an idiot, trying to put his mind at ease,
telling him "awww.. naww... it's all good...just a kid...just a phase..."
As he calmly tried to explain his mind being put at ease was not the point of this conversation,
the point was to get my mind uneasy.
He told me of too many freinds dead,
too many pathetic lives being lived,
how pathetically typical my current state of mind was...
All the while correctly sizing up the usefulness of the exchange as equal to him speaking to those already gone before me.
All the while I sat appreciating the concern, thinking if i had a heart, it would have been warmed,
not thinking for a second about even slowing down my intake of anything.
"Look at you. Laughing, smiling, you think this is a fucking joke, Mark."
As the futility of his efforts became clear he dropped all concern for me from the situation
(probably only there because of the meger amount of concern his son still had left for me at the time)
and left me with a warning/threat
The exact wording I can't remember, but it amounted to..
go ahead, ruin your life, that's your business.
but dont fuck with my son,
or my business,
or that's yer ass.

R.I.P. Fausto.



 
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tanner moore
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« Reply #10 on: June 16, 2010, 03:59:53 PM »

thank you for the best trucks in the world
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Fausto
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« Reply #11 on: November 15, 2013, 07:47:15 AM »

Fausto... in German folklore Dr. Faust was about a story of a man who sold his soul for a life of debauchery. Except he got it back when he tricked the devil.

What an EPIC name,  fortunately it's also my dads, mine, & hopefully it will be my sons name too.
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