Francesco was but a lad during World War II, doing all he could just to survive. By 1949 the young boy of 17 had lost both parents and became part of a program run by Our Lady of Immeasurable Concern to relocate war-orphans to Fort Stockton for a second chance.

The long boat trip over did nothing to enhance his scrawny physique. The tall, lanky young man stuck out like a fly on a wedding cake amongst the locals. He was given a job as janitor at the Piggly Wiggly in order to help him get his feet on the ground, learn some English, and adopt to the American way of life.

He proved to be a hard worker. Weeks became months and months turned into years. He ended up staying at the Piggly Wiggly for decades. Partly due to the language barrier, and partly owing to his personality, he kept mostly to himself, but was appreciated for his efforts and work ethic. As a reward for his diligence, the local Optimist Club raised funds to purchase an old Fiat 500 Topolino and gifted it to him. He loved the old jalopy and worked on it every weekend, making the 569cc engine sing like an Italian sparrow.

As far as anyone knew, he never dated. He did have a short fling in the late 50s with an artsy female janitor that had been recently hired, but it was short lived. He found her smoking weed behind the dumpster one Saturday morning and ended the relationship. Nobody likes a high maintenance woman.

No, his only interest seemed to be working on the little Fiat and playing the lottery with every dollar he could spare. Every Friday afternoon he would be seen in line at the Eggs & Ammo convenience store picking numbers for the Texas Lotto. Most often the numbers would be versions of his mother’s birthday. If he was feeling particularly lucky, or if the line was long, he’d go with random quick-picks.

It was one of those random picks that would change his life in early ’89. His numbers hit and he instantly had more money than he had ever dreamed of.

He quit his job at the Piggly Wiggly, causing them to make sweeping changes, and drove the Topolino all the way to Austin to buy a brand new Ferrari Testarossa. He drove it all the way back to Fort Stockton the same day, and straight to Grady Brothers’ Paint & Body. (“If we can’t fix it, we’ll make sure it’s never found.”)

He called his old flame from behind the dumpster and told her to come over to Grady Brothers with her sketch pad and a full bag. Over the course of the afternoon, the four of them designed a paint job that was as creative as it was patriotic. Six weeks later, the overhead door rolled up and the Ferrari rolled out.

When he drove past the VFW post, the old men wept and nodded a knowing nod. Kids over at George Washington Elementary School saluted as it cruised past the playground. Two graduating seniors from Fort Stockton High changed their plans to enroll at Texas Baptist on full scholarship and joined the Marines instead.

And, just like that, Francesco and his star spangled Ferrari were gone. He left Fort Stockton for good.

Recently a reporter for the Stockton Telegram-Dispatch tracked him down for a 4th of July feature story. As happens with 75% of people who win the lottery, it did not end well for Francesco.

“I spent half my money on the Ferrari, the paint job, alcohol, and prostitutes. I wasted the rest of it.”

God Bless America.