Astoria Characters

It's noon when Catherine and Frank Terrizzi walk through the front door of Terrizzi Pastry Shop. They're not here every day any more, but they can be counted upon to appear every Saturday at this time.

Every day, Jim Pignetti sees the past in the present. He can't help but be reminded of the way things were because his business, Metalmen, is only four and a half blocks from the house he grew up in.

Sylvia Ramsaywak attends to more than 150 students in her Serious Fun after-school programs at P.S. 85 and P.S. 234. Sylvia modeled Serious Fun after the things she liked to do after school when she was growing up in Alaska.

Elena Kess is wearing 6-inch lizard-skin stilettos the color of a moonless midnight. She's so high off the ground that she's tiptoeing rather than walking across 30th Avenue.

David Tepper didn't plan any of it. The universe pushed and pulled him in different directions until he found himself sitting behind the check-out desk at Nook n' Crannie, the second-hand shop that gives alcoholics and addicts a second chance.

"Welcome to Fairyland," says Maria L. Delgado. Maria does believe in fairies. Maria believes in a lot of other things, too: holistic medicine, organic foods, spirituality and mysteries.

There are some truths that are hard to take. This is one of them. There is no Santa Claus. And there is no Dave at Dave's Shoes.

It was Marion's second date with Michael M. Smith, and he asked her whether she wanted to see his cemetery. She found herself at the Lent-Riker-Smith Homestead, the city's oldest house that's still used as a private home.

Clark Gookin is long and lean like a telephone line, so he's not an easy fit for this tyke of a bike that's the color of a ripe Georgia peach.

Maki Hirose is full of promise. He just turned 26, but he looks 16. He's so proper that he eats French fries with a fork and cuts melted cheese sandwiches into bite-sized pieces.

Joe Vitale, who was born in Palermo, Italy and christened Pepino by his parents, is the fig savior. When he bought his house six years ago, the fig tree in back was all but dead. Joe nursed it back to health.

Kaman Fong, along with other gardeners, is working on a waste-to-energy project she conceived that is designed to turn compost into low-cost and clean, sustainable energy.

As Mike Barrett fearlessly approaches, a bunch of bees surrounds him. Although these guys are a little agitated, they're not up in arms -- yet. "I'm not afraid of the bees," Mike says.

When performer Jenn Wehrung got tired of serving people hamburgers and fries, she put down her tray and auditioned to be a nanny. She got the part and played it perfectly for three years.

James A. DeSoucey Jr. is a squat muscle-bound square with laughing baby blues. He looks as though he coulda been a boxer. Or a prizefighter. Or at least a contender.

You can get mad. You can get sad. You can get even. Or, like Clif Militello, you can do all three. By writing a book. Of fiction (wink, wink).

Through the years, Donna Bungo has taken in a lot of animals; right now, four five-week-old squirrels are the only rescues in her family.

Morning, noon and by the light of the moon, they sweep till they drop, gathering their rosebuds -- and mine -- while they may. Alas, don't tell them that they've already had their day.

Saving nearly a century and a half of family memorabilia is a remarkable feat. "I'm a keeper," 86-year-old Bea Frish says.

Who's that guy? The one at the back of the pool hall. See him? You can't miss him. He's the big dude, the one with the scary scorpion inked on his arm and the spiky porcupine hair.

Gil and Maria, husband and wife, are poets. They don't complete each other's thoughts or even their sentences, but they do look over each other's work.

When Larry Spacek, a Czech immigrant, was asked to manage the Bohemian Hall & Beer Garden, he jumped at the chance. "This is a payback to my heritage," he says.

This story is not about Laurie Lieberman, or at least that's what she says. It is, according to her, about Zeus, who has just hopped onto her fingers. Zeus is her 4 ½-year-old Congo African grey parrot.

London. Johannesburg and Nairobi. Fort Worth, St. Louis and San Diego. Tokyo and Manhattan. And Astoria. What do they all have in common? Well, let's see... Matthew Peipert.

The top of the piano is crowded with framed photographs of a cute little boy with big beautiful eyes. The little boy isn't here. He's in the Hudson Valley, living in a boarding school for autistic children.