He was a little league coach, a volunteer ski instructor for the elementary school, a Gra-Y Club leader, and gave the daily business report on the local TV channel. He took us into the outdoors in blue jeans and cotton shirts, got us lost, soaked us to the skin, and reminded us that even with all the mishaps, “I brought everyone home”. He was a regular fixture on the sidelines of his kids and grandkids soccer, baseball, football, basketball, water polo, and roller hockey games. He supplied 6oz Coors beers at teenager parties so “everyone could look cool but no one got drunk.” He made world-class French Toast and spaghetti feeds for the masses. When asked for permission to do just about anything, he was quick with “do whatever you think is best.” He was kicked out of USC for running a panty raid and landing on the cover of Life Magazine. He knew how to throw a party, twirl a girl on the dance floor, and to the end loved the attention of a pretty woman. And, to him, all women were pretty. If he walked into a room of strangers he saw a hundred people who wanted to talk to him. He could have a pair hanging around his neck and another on his head and still toss out a string of curses for whoever had taken his glasses. Those who cared for him the last 9 ½ years knew his smile, wit, and charm were just waiting for the right moment to pounce, and even when he couldn’t string a sentence together he would laugh at exactly the right moment in the story you were telling and do a little jig in his wheelchair to Darktown Strutters Ball. He was Joey, Dad, Uncle Joe, Grandpa and Great Grandpa. He was Joe Corsaro. Born in Redondo Beach on March 29, 1931 and peacefully left us for the adventure beyond on August 23, 2018.
