Jim Pagano had a pea-green Ford Maverick in high school.
Nothing special. Just enough to get him around town.
Unless John Cooney was borrowing it. Or Stanley Glick. Or Mike Coleman. Or Paul Kopech. Or Marc Adler.
Or any of a circle of three dozen friends who knew they could
skip class at Cranston High School West, stick a random Ford key
–– or screwdriver –– into the ignition and take off for lunch.
Truth was, there were more people driving the Maverick than Pagano knew.
“But even when he found out there were dozens of us, he didn’t care,” said Cooney, now 44.
That’s
the way it was for the Garden City Boys, a crew of Irish,
Italians and Poles who took their name from the neighborhood of trim
ranches and tidy lawns at the center of their childhood.
A crew of Protestants, Catholics and Jews who came back to
Cranston last week to bury Pagano, a city firefighter allegedly
shot and killed by next-door neighbor Nicholas Gianquitti last
Sunday in a spat over a child’s stray tennis ball.
The “GC Boys” are angry. They’re devastated.
And like so many in this city of close neighborhoods and extended
families, they are grieving deeply. But they find comfort in
shared memories of their childhood friend and their unbroken ties
to each other – ties even the Boys can’t fully explain.