REMEMEBERING MY GRANDPARENTS: G & G

by Dan Price

In the 1980’s, in the prime of my childhood, there were a few absolutes that I could always count on: Diff’rent Strokes was hilarious, the Texas Rangers were going to tank the season, and my grandparents were going to send me $20 and an inappropriate card for my birthday. And Grandma would take me to the mall when she visited even though she never drove a car and Grandpa would take us all over Los Angeles to sight see, even though he couldn’t see at all.

They were flashy, they were glitzy. If Miles Davis gave birth to “the cool”, Harry and Rita Vento took that torch and ran with it. Wherever they went, everyone wanted to shake their hands, get to know them and hear the amazing stories they had of actors, musicians and the scene which was their life. And no one, I repeat no one, could rock a purple open collar scalloped button down shirt and black suit quite like my Grandpa, whether it be at a club, a wedding or a bar mitzvah.

He was a musician and entertainer from an early age and she was a painter and lover of the arts, music and film. Their personalities were larger than life, boisterous and engaging. This is the Harry and Rita Vento that I knew, loved and will always remember. And I, along with my sisters, will continue to remember them every day. They were an inspiration to us in so many ways. From the cartoons I draw of them since college and still to this day, to this very magazine that Debra created in honor of both of them and the senior community at large.

Harry Vento was born Hyman Jacobs in 1915 in Bow in the East End of London. He was true Cockney and loved his hometown just as much as a good, strong cup of hot tea. Born into a entertainment family, Harry’s grandfather worked under the stage name Vento the Ventriloquist (Vento being Italian for “the wind”). This stage name became a mantle passed down through the family to Vento’s son, Joe Vento, who performed music at the London clubs and silent movie houses under the name Joe Vento and the Sicilians. This Italian/Sicilian thing always intrigued me as my family is as Jewish as they come and the closest my Grandfather ever came to true Italian as I knew him was the Olive Garden.

Because music and entertainment was ingrained in Harry’s life, Grandpa started playing musical instruments and performing early. By the tender age of eight, he was playing the violin with his father Joe in the orchestra pits at the movie house whenever the regular violinist was out. And while there other jobs and trades he picked up along the way, Harry was a musician first and had stars in his eyes.

My Grandma, Rita Vento, was a tougher nut to crack. Born Rita Geen in 1916, my Grandma was more reserved and private than my Grandpa. She was the daughter of a Russian immigrant and a British mother, Orthodox Jews who maintained the strictest of beliefs. She was a talented painter and had her first show in the White Chapel Gallery when she was only ten years old and continued to paint and show her work throughout her life. She was tough, smart, talented and headstrong, the perfect complement to my grandfather, keeping him grounded, safe and secure.

Rita and Harry married in 1937. They were devoted to one another, Harry taking care of the business-end of the family and Rita taking care of Harry. In 1943 had my mom during the England’s involvement in World War II. Grandpa enlisted in the Army as a Royal Signal which was the telecommunications infrastructure for the Army….of course with his passion being music, he also enlisted in the Army band. During this time, Grandpa got diabetes type 1, something that plagued his health throughout the years but never disrupted his resolve. Grandma made sure of that keeping him strong and fed with her wonderful homemade soups and stews, chopped liver and Grandpa’s favorite evening snack (or ‘seconds’ as she called it), Egg and Onion. Yes. Egg and Onion. What can I say? She took great pride in her cooking and her kitchen, hand picking her kosher meats from the butcher daily.

After the war was over, Grandpa was brought into a cabaret act called Baker and Willie after the original Baker quit and performed their act at weddings, Bar Mitzvahs and society parties and could cut up a room in minutes. After the act dissolved, Grandpa went out on his own as Harry Vento and his Music and delighted audiences including Princess Margaret. He was also a talent agent for some years, handling different acts in the London music scene and even passed on managing a small group that you may have heard of called The Dave Clark Five, citing that they “had no talent”. Oh, well. Grandpa always said that he never worked a day in his life.

Right after I was born in 1976, Grandma and Grandpa moved from London to Los Angeles to be closer to my family here in Texas. To supplement their income until Grandpa was able to get in show business, they took a job as apartment managers for a small complex even though she did math on her fingers and he couldn’t plunge a toilet if his life depended on it.

In the end, the risk of moving paid off when Grandpa landed gig after gig working with some of the top Hollywood performers such as Johnny Carson, Norman Leer, Ronald Regan, Bette Midler, James Caan and many more. He landed many commercials and musical parts in movies, which we always delighted in watching on TV and the Big Screen. The phone would ring non-stop from friends and family when his Kraft Cheese commercials ran.

While all of my Grandpa’s dreams were coming true, Grandma was making a name for herself at Neiman Marcus. She had become an accomplished sales person with an impressive client list such as Linda Ronstadt, the Gabor sisters, Tony Bennett and Elizabeth Taylor. One night, she was even asked to stay after closing to assist a Saudi Prince and all of his wives. During the course of her career, she received many personal letters from Stanley Marcus, thanking her for her services at the store.

While they loved their Hollywood lifestyle, when the Northridge earthquake hit L.A. in 1994, they finally decided to retire to Houston to be closer to us. This was a good time as I was starting college and got to see them often on the weekends, taking them to Timmy Chan’s Fried Chicken and Chinese Food, watching my Grandma paint London street scenes and spending oodles of time at the dog track with Grandpa learning how to bet the Quinella Wheel. I can still hear him hollering at me, “The smart money is the dog money!”

We maintained this arrangement for 15 or so years, with me coming into town from Dallas or Austin to see them whenever I could. By this time, they were in their late 80’s and they found enjoyment looking at photos of their great grandchildren and my Mom’s latest vacation, all while listening to Tony Bennett and Dave Brubeck albums on their tiny stereo.

While I didn’t inherit the musical gene of my Grandpa, I did become an artist and had the pleasure of showing in a gallery in Houston. It was a great moment for me as my grandparents got to see my art and passion. Their support was phenomenal and I’ll never forget it.

It’s been many years since Grandpa and Grandma have passed and we all miss them every day. But the stories of both of them are still kept alive when my mom, Debra, Lisa and I get together.