In the heart of Bridgeport, Connecticut, on a quiet stretch of Frank Street, stood a little electronics shop with a big soul. For over 30 years, Albert J. Kaufman, my grandfather, ran that store with tireless dedication. He took only two days off in all that time — not out of obligation, but out of love. Love for his work, love for people, and love for creating.
Albert was a man of many talents: a technician, musician, inventor, and family man. But before the shop, before the shelves filled with radio tubes and resistors, there was Charcoal Pond.
Where It All Began: A Lifeguard, A Pond, and A Love Story
In his younger days, Albert worked as a lifeguard at Charcoal Pond in the North End of Bridgeport — a place where summer memories were made and, for Albert, where his life changed forever. It was there he met Anna Petrus, a beautiful and spirited young woman who would become his wife and lifelong partner.
Their meeting was serendipitous — a splash of fate and a shared smile on a warm summer day. That connection blossomed into a loving marriage rooted in faith, loyalty, and community. Anna would go on to become deeply involved in the founding of St. Andrew’s Parish, while Albert built his legacy on the steady hum of soldering irons and the melodic sounds of music.
A Family Built on Love and Legacy
Albert and Anna raised two daughters:
-
Elaine A. Kaufman-Norkawich, my mother, born on October 19, 1945, whose life carried forward her father’s compassion and creativity.
-
Arlene J. Vigilone, known for her sharp wit and lighthearted humor that could brighten any room.
Albert was a devoted grandfather. He had the joy of watching his oldest grandchildren, James A. Norkawich (myself) and Deanna M. Norkawich, grow and flourish in their unique paths — especially in music, where his influence resonates deeply.
He also had three other grandchildren — John Vigilone Jr., Michelle Vigilone, and Stephen Vigilone — whom he saw less often, but always held close to his heart.
The Maestro of Machines and Music
Albert wasn’t just a music lover — he lived and breathed it. He had 15 organs in his home, each one a voice in his personal symphony. He played entirely by ear, never needing sheet music to express what was already alive inside him. His house was often filled with warm tones, chord progressions, and the unmistakable joy of discovery.
He founded the CVTOS (Connecticut Valley Theatre Organ Society) — a hub for like-minded enthusiasts, musicians, and lovers of the organ arts. The group would gather regularly for potluck parties that were less about food and more about fellowship, harmony, and shared appreciation for music that moved the soul.
Albert wasn’t just a local fixture — he was known and respected by legends. He was good friends with organ greatslike Rosa Rio (renowned for her silent film performances and long career in radio and television) and Larry Ferrari, the beloved organist of Philadelphia’s “Sunday With Larry Ferrari.” That level of respect didn’t come from fame — it came from authenticity.
Weekends, Wanderings, and a Shared Love of Sound
One of my fondest memories is how he supported my career in music from the very beginning. We would go to organ concerts together, both of us wide-eyed and deeply inspired. Those experiences were more than outings — they were bonding moments, a shared love that shaped my path.
On weekends, we would scour flea markets and tag sales, hunting for rare sheet music, vinyl records, quirky electronics, or just some good conversation. It wasn’t about what we found — it was about the joy of the search, and the way he taught me to always keep my eyes open for magic in the mundane.
His Hands Built More Than Machines — They Built People
Beyond his musical and mechanical gifts, Albert had the rare ability to make people feel seen and valued. He fixed what was broken, not just in devices, but sometimes in spirits too. He’d welcome customers and friends alike with a mix of quiet wisdom and gentle humor.
Need help but short on cash? He’d still help you. Need advice on your stereo, your project, your wiring? He had time. Need to just talk? He’d listen. He was that guy — reliable, kind, and brilliant.
A Grandfather, A Teacher, A Legend
For me, Albert J. Kaufman wasn’t just my grandfather — he was my first teacher. He showed me that it’s okay to be curious, to tinker, to create. He showed me that passion doesn’t need a degree, just heart. And he proved that a good life is built not only with tools and talent — but with love.
This blog is my tribute to him, but also a celebration of how one man’s quiet legacy continues to echo across generations.
Thank you, Grandpa — for every organ played, every wire soldered, every heart inspired, and every note that still plays in memory.
Add comment
Comments