Born on April 24, 1923 to an Irish mother and an Italian father, Concetta Carrozza started life in Manhattan. Her earliest memories are of vendors selling fish, ice and fruit from their horse-drawn wagons.
Concetta is better known as Connie, and many feel comfortable just calling her “Mom.” I first got acquainted with Mrs. Nuccio – as I call her – when her family and mine both moved to Pine Plains in the mid-1970s. We recently got reacquainted, and it’s been fun hearing stories from someone of my mother’s era.
Connie can speak eloquently on any number of subjects, including politics. (Her first vote was for Franklin D. Roosevelt.) Unintimidated by electronics, she even uses an iPad. “Mainly for games,” she admits. “But I’m learning.”
Long before iPads, Connie’s early life was defined by the Great Depression. “It was so hard. There was no work and people were starving,” she says. But her parents kept the family running. Her father, who had a variety of skills, moved the family from place to place as he took different jobs. Her mother, meanwhile, could take “anything” and turn it into a meal. “We always had soup, a main course and dessert.”
When Connie was 12, she met 15-year-old Alfred Nuccio, who was to become the only love of her life. Alfred eventually asked Connie’s father for her hand in marriage, but was repeatedly turned away. The couple finally decided to elope. Connie, a Catholic, shed many tears over their civil ceremony. But the couple would go on to have a real church wedding later in life.
Four months after they eloped, Alfred enlisted with the Army and was shipped overseas for a three-year tour in World War II. He left home as an outgoing and cheerful young man, but when he returned his personality had become darker and more brooding. Nevertheless, he ambitiously dived into work as a mechanic, electrician and plumber.
Connie, for her part, had left school after eighth grade. She remembers that reading was frustrating. She was more interested in mechanical things and learning how things worked. Always nimble-fingered, during the war, she aspired to build planes. Instead, she landed a job making clarinets. This was a fitting alternative. Music had always been a part of her family life; everyone played an instrument in some fashion. “My father was arrested in a speakeasy during the Prohibition while playing honky-tonk piano,” she says, laughing.
After Connie and Alfred moved to Pine Plains in the mid-1970s, she became an active member of the community. She was a longstanding member of the Ladies Auxiliary, and she and her husband rode on a float in the town Christmas parade for many years running dressed as Santa and Mrs. Claus.
She still lives in the home she designed herself. Longtime residents probably remember it as a ceramics store known as The Wizard of Arts, where you could buy figurines to paint and then fire to a gloss. Today, the space is better known as Moose on the Loose, the sandwich shop run by Lori and Marie, two of her five children. Most mornings, Connie can be found at the Moose, sitting with a cup of tea and a donut.
We all like the idea of living a long life, and living it with gusto. So what’s her secret? Connie the centenarian credits good nutrition, music and being surrounded by family. “Parties are good for the soul,” she asserts, then adds with a smile, “I like being happy. And I always am.”
Denise Jordan Finley is a Hudson Valley native and a musician who currently directs the choir at the Smithfield Church in Amenia. She has introduced Connie and her own mother, Lucille, who is 104, through video. It is hoped that the two ladies will meet face to face one day.