THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Monday, February 20, 1995 TAG: 9502180033
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: Larry Maddry
LENGTH: Long : 133 lines
EVEN IN HIS 90s, the old man loved fighting.
``Hit him! . . . Hit him!'' he shouted, swinging his balled fists in wide sweeps. Sometimes the punches he threw while watching televised boxing were so strong, he almost hurled himself off the sofa.
When Herbert Lapetina, 96, died on Jan. 17 of this year, the funeral orations spoke of his magnetism, courage and fortitude in the many ventures of his colorful life.
It was a polite way of saying that Lapetina, a gent who certainly had a good heart, was a brawler all his life.
Ocean View - which, Lord knows has seen some rough and ready types over the years - has seldom, if ever, seen his equal.
A first generation Italian whose rich kinfolk were highly successful bankers in California, Lapetina was the youngest of 15 children. He is said to have resembled James Cagney in his youth, a young man with a bit of a swagger and a chip on his shoulder that begged to be knocked off.
In the early days, he indulged his passion by boxing in ``smokers.'' The boxing matches drew their name from cigar and cigarette smoke that clouded the arenas where fighters engaged in the manly sport.
Lapetina fought in a huge room in Ocean View not far from the Rosalee Theater. He was a hard-nosed, right-hander. He weighed 150 pounds. He was 5-foot-8, with a brick hard right and a strong left hook.
A popular fighter, he got $25 a fight, a princely sum in the 1920s. Before retiring from the sport, he was earning $100 a bout.
``My dad just loved to fight,'' his son, Herbert Jr., a Norfolkian who's a maintenance employee for Bell Atlantic, recalled. ``Didn't matter much what it was about. A girl, a ball game, or someone calling him a wop. He just loved it.''
It is widely believed that Lapetina became a tavern owner both in Norfolk and Baltimore for the chance it gave him to punch someone's lights out. He did that fairly often. And seemed to like it.
``If you can pounce on him quick with a strong uppercut to the chin, you've got him nearly every time,'' he used to say.
Lapetina operated a number of local taverns over the years - Herbert's Place on Ocean View Avenue, the Arrow Club on Cottage Toll Road near Tidewater Drive, and the Motor Inn in the Thalia section of Virginia Beach.
He made a ``moongoose box'' that he placed on the bar of his taverns. It was a large wooden box with lettering on the top and sides that warned: ``Danger! Do not open!'' At least once a night a sailor, emboldened by beer, would step to the box and open the door, unleashing a spring-propelled raccoon tail that shot 20 feet across the tavern floor like a missile.
But the pleasure the opened ``moongoose box'' gave him could not compare with the deep satisfaction Lapetina got from accepting the challenge of a rowdy tavern patron and walking outside. About three punches and the fight was over. That quick strike under the chin always seemed to do it.
One of Lapetina's neighbors recalled that he never saw his friend on a Sunday morning without observing his scraped knuckles or jaw. Which is not to say that Lapetina didn't have other interests.
He was an imaginative inventor, earning a patent on several interesting creations. One was a bottle opener with a rubber rim on it preventing beer foam from splashing the drinker when a beer bottle was opened. Another, which was widely used locally, was a cardboard carton arranged for the shipment of seafood in dry ice. Another was a tire patch with steel mesh in it for durability.
None of the inventions made him rich.
Over the years Lapetina pursued other occupations. Among them were bootlegging and making moonshine booze in the woods. Both troublesome pursuits.
``He used to complain a lot about finding possums drunk in the mash,'' Herbert Jr. recalled. The elder Lapetina eluded police on motorcycles by placing boards across the canals in Princess Anne County, memorizing their locations. When his car was chased at night, he crossed the canals where the boards were hidden, eluding his pursuers.
While Lapetina was sometimes on the wrong side of the law, he was well-liked in Ocean View. His home on Bay View Boulevard was a happy one, and he had a reputation for being someone you could call on when in trouble. His friend Father Keeley, of Holy Trinity Parish, often called upon him when a family needed food, a pair of shoes or money to pay the rent. Lapetina always came through for the priest.
Lawyer Donald Grey - whose family lived next door to the Lapetinas - remembers that in the 1930s Lapetina owned the only car in his section of Ocean View. He used the car, a Hudson, to haul and sell illegal booze on Sundays, when the liquor stores were closed. He made the car available to his neighbors during an emergency. Grey remembered that many times the emergencies were late at night. Lapetina would dress quickly and drive a pregnant woman or a heart attack victim to the hospital.
Lapetina explained to friends that he had gone out of the bootlegging business because of his son. Once, when correcting his son Herbert Jr. for bad manners, his son sulked in the back seat of the Hudson for a few moments. Then he muttered: ``You old bootlegger.''
Lapetina was hurt. When they reached home he told his wife, Audrey, that he'd never bootleg again. And he didn't.
But the fighting continued. When he was in his 50s and barefooted, he was challenged by a man 20 years his junior while at Spencer's tavern. The younger man hit Lapetina with a sucker punch as he was going down the steps in back. Then his attacker kicked him with his shoe in the side. He lay still as though unconscious. When the man turned to walk away, Lapetina rose, tapped him on the shoulder and dropped him with an uppercut. Several sailors in the bar offered their shoes for Lapetina to use for finishing the job. He refused them.
``I was afraid I'd killed him,'' Lapetina later told friends. ``When I got home I phoned the bar. The bar maid said he was just coming to and there was nothing to worry about.''
Lapetina's grandson Troy, who is director of emergency services for the City of Norfolk, said his grandfather fought his last fight while in his 70s. It was brief and his grandfather won it, he said.
After that Herbert Lapetina settled down. And he mellowed some, doting on his eight grandchildren. He was well known in Ocean View for making and selling good dog houses. He also sold figs, which he picked from the four large trees in his back yard.
A good-hearted, if scrappy man, he only cried once, they say. That was when Herbert Jr. fell from one of the trees in the back yard and broke his right arm.
Gently, Lapetina carried his 9-year-old son to the car and placed him on the front seat. A neighbor's child, also 9, went with his buddy to the hospital, riding on the back seat.
After a minute or so, tears began to stream down the father's cheeks.
``Don't worry, Hubut,'' Herbert Jr. sniffled, head on his father's knee. ``I'll be all right.''
Tears continued to fall down the father's cheeks as he drove toward the hospital. The rare tears unsettled the boy in the rear. ``He's going to be all right, Mr. Lapetina,'' the boy said.
``I know,'' the father replied.
``Then why are you crying,'' the boy asked.
``Because he's right-handed,'' Lapetina replied. ``He can never be a professional boxer!'' ILLUSTRATION: Color photo
Herbert Lapetina...
by CNB