A Man Bigger Than Life

It was the start of a New Year in January 2019.  I was looking back at a successful past year of tours and thinking about a person who I owe so much to for the very existence of my tour business. You see, although my mother was born in Sicily and my father was the son of Italian immigrants, I didn’t come to Italy until 2012.  I was coming on a 50-year-old birthday and my son had just graduated high school. Something called me to bring us to visit Sicily, to see the birthplace of my grandfather, Frank Gaglio, in the town of Montelepre. The experience was amazing, a subject for another blog article. I shared that experience with my boss at that time, Kurt Younker, at Comerica Bank, who took great interest in my discussion about the visit.

We both found ourselves in the post “Great Recession” Florida banking world in positions we weren’t best suited for, or at least I wasn’t for sure. I was in a wealth management office, but with responsibilities over the retail bank and Kurt, an extremely successful wealth lender and manager, took the responsibilities of the small branch banking network in Florida for the big regional bank. The bank had taken huge losses in Florida; it was pretty clear its future growth plans didn’t include Florida.

After getting to know Kurt, he was a big traveler, which was probably why he took interest in my story about meeting my family in Sicily for the first time. He took such great interest that after learning I was to return the following year, he insisted I spend a week with him in Tuscany with his family. I was blown away with his offer and at first thought I couldn’t accept it. He said “It’s a big house in Chianti and there is an extra bedroom and bathroom just for you.” I said, “Did you ask your wife about inviting a 50-year-old divorced guy to your family vacation?” (I’ve learned over my life, husbands don’t always ask their wives things in advance from time-to-time). He laughed and said “Of course.” I accepted with one caveat. I requested “Only if you will let me be the cook for the week!”

The following summer, it was the last part of my Italy trip, driving down from Venice, to the beautiful villa the Yonker family had rented on a large hill overlooking Greve in Chianti. The stone villa was something out of a movie surrounded by lush woods on one side and a spectacular view on the other side. Summer flowers weaved their way around the grounds as they soaked up the afternoon sun.

The next morning, I was excited to start cooking, so Kurt and I took off for a little town called Panzano, just over the next hill. We made a list and Kurt handed me a pasta recipe to cook. He was such a well-traveled individual, he researched everything down to the foods favored in locations he visited.

It was a Sunday, and we took our list to the meat market, which several years later I learned, was the very famous Antica Macelleria Cecchini, owned by the European celebrity butcher, Dario Cecchini. Knowing nothing about his fame at the time I looked up at the towering man, wearing an apron over his dress shirt and slacks and sporting Italian shoes and began to read my list to him. I first asked, “Do you have any chicken?” Now, he was already a tall man, but the counter and floor he stood on was raised about a foot from the store floor and from this advantage he looked down at me with disgust and said “No, just meat!” Seeing his dissatisfaction with my silly question, I then asked, “Oh, do you have any pork?” Now his dark eyes began to pierce through me as he said “NO, JUST MEAT!!!”. Then it hit me: meat in English to him meant only cow meat. I said “Oh, OK, can I buy some steaks?” To which he said “Did you place an order?” Which of course I hadn’t. So I bought a 4-pound chuck of meat, which I cut up back at the villa, and some Tuscan salami called Finocchiona.

I soon brushed off my feeling of Italian culinary ignorance after stopping for the other grocery items on our list. It was such a joy, visiting the little shops that presented their goods in an artistic way. We gathered the food I would use to create the dinners for this lovely family. It was a little challenging, since their son didn’t eat any vegetables or fruit whatsoever, and their daughter was a vegetarian. I managed my way around the challenges and was in complete glory cooking in this amazing villa in the Tuscan countryside. If this wasn’t enough, the family included me on some of their daily excursions. We visited San Gimignano, famed for its many Medieval towers and Florence with a wonderful guide who presented her city over the day.

The kitchen in the villa had a sturdy table to work on, and in spite of being an old villa had plenty of counterspace. The massive wood beams in the ceiling and stone walls created a pictured ambiance to prepare the meals. It was a perfect situation and by Wednesday, I got the feeling Suzanne was happy I was doing the cooking and dishes. I loved every minute and it gave me the idea to rent a villa with some friends the following year.

This is where I first learned to create an amazing villa experience and I am forever grateful to Kurt and Sue for allowing me to be part of their vacation. If that never happened, I would have never started the tour business I so enjoy today. I’ve had hundreds of guests who have experienced this special part of Italy and I owe all to Kurt for reaching out to me at a time in my life I needed the most.

As I look back at having my best year ever, I first called Kurt, and although I had thanked him a few years before, I wanted to thank him again for that family vacation he provided me seven years earlier. The cell number was no longer working, and thinking that was strange, I decided to email him.

Several weeks passed, and I didn’t get a reply and I again thought it was strange. Then I received an email, except it wasn’t Kurt. It was his wife, Suzanne, who had access to Kurt’s email account.

“I am sad as I write this to you because I remember fond memories of our time in Tuscany as well,” she wrote. “Kurt always spoke very highly of you and enjoyed your company. He was excited that you started your company after being inspired by our trip. Heartbroken, I must tell you that Kurt passed away from a sudden accident in June 2018.”

My stomach turned upside down after reading her words. How could this be? Kurt was bigger than life. I remember his stories about travel, especially about running with the bulls in Spain. Although he was just a few years younger than me, he was in perfect shape. If you ever met Kurt, he was the kind of man you remembered. This amazing man was taken from his family, his son just finishing high school and daughter, just starting college. My heart ached from the news; I’ve been so blessed by the people God has placed before me. Kurt gave me the biggest gift a person could ever give: a path to find my purpose in life at a time when I was most disenchanted by life itself.

I asked Sue if she would mind me sharing my story about Kurt and if she would provide me with any photos and thoughts about her husband. At first, I thought I’d take excerpts from her words. However, I was revived by her beautiful description of Kurt, and want to share with my readers just who this amazing man was. I’ve provided her entire response in her words below:

One of the most attractive things about my husband Kurt was his desire to travel the world and experience things that were a little off the grid of a typical tourist. He would always seek to have the best life-experiences over owning any material goods. There was never a touring group involved; he purposefully researched and planned each and every trip often involving taking planes, trains, boats and automobiles to reach our destinations. After carefully vetting cities to visit, places to stay and restaurants to savor he was very happy and excited to share the fruits of his labor with his family, his reward being our enthusiasm and gratefulness.

As a family, we traveled to Europe quite a bit - Spain, Italy, France, Belgium, Germany, and Switzerland, but our favorite was Italy. So much so that Kurt and I traveled just the two of us to the Amalfi Coast for his 50th birthday where one of our adventures included renting a boat and cruising around the island of Capri for the day. Several years later he and I pursued another "just us" trip to Alba, Piedmont for the tartufo bianco (white truffle) season where we toured a forest area with a truffle hunter and his truffle sniffing dog who found a few tartufo bianco. At the end of the day, we purchased one from the hunter and promptly had it delicately shaved onto our Tajarin dinner, a traditional golden yellow pasta made from 70% farmhouse eggs. As far as Kurt's second favorite place, it was definitely Pamplona, Spain, where he ran with the bulls seven times. One day with all of us, anxiously looking down at "dead man's curve" from a rented balcony and at which time Kurt actually got "Zorro'd" by a bull's horn on his back, three days with "the guys," old work friends, and three days with our son. The favorite of all those times, of course, was when he and our son took this trip together to celebrate his high school graduation. They both ran with the bulls and into the bullring where bulls chase foolish men for sport...three days in a row!

One of our favorite family trips was definitely when we spent 2-weeks in Italy with one week of that stay in a 4-bedroom cottage named "IL Cinghiale," (wild boar) in Greve, Tuscany. From then on, Kurt was aptly nicknamed Il Cinghiale by me for the rest of the trip. The renovated home boasted an old-world feel with modern comforts and was situated somewhat isolated on a hillside with a large swimming pool blending into the backyard like a painting. Gazing out onto the surreal hillside immediately brought us to another dimension in time and emotion, a true escape into serenity.  The grounds were lush with patchwork of green foliage and grape vines that seemed to meander around the hill crevices in an organized fashion. It was our perfect remote decompression after long adventurous journeys to nearby cities, vineyards, and tourist sites. In addition to the uniqueness of this setting, it was there where we as a family met Robert for the first time, who accepted Kurt's invitation to use the spare room and enjoy that part of Italy with us. It is also there that Robert introduced us to really fabulous heart-felt, home-cooked-but-eloquently-presented Italian dishes for our evening meals. Admittedly, as an Italian-American wife known for my meatballs and gravy, I couldn't decide if this pampering made me feel appreciatively impressed or confusingly jealous. Would Kurt like his cooking better than mine? Of course, he did! And so did I. Hands down, I was appreciatively impressed, as it is definitely Robert's attention to the finer details that quantifies his style of fine-dining.

It is no wonder that Robert has followed his passion so sincerely and completely, able to demonstrate his unique craft and skills though Italian Culinary Tours. Bravo to Robert for fulfilling his life's dream to share the wonders of Italian life, landscape, and bounty through personalized experiences for his guests. While Robert tells me on numerous occasions that he gives credit to my dear, beloved late husband, Kurt, for giving Robert his inspiration, it is Robert who honors Kurt by doing what Kurt believed he could and should do. I know if Kurt was here today, we would be there every September, every year knowing that each visit would be completely different and completely memorable. Cin Cin to Robert and all of his guests who become a part of the past, present, and future of Italian Culinary Tours.

Appreciatively, 

Suzanne Younker

As you can read from Suzanne’s elegant words, Kurt was a man who lived 10 times the life in half a century, then most men live in a full lifetime. I look back on my life since those days in Tuscany with Kurt’s family and I cherish every moment and thank the universe for placing this larger-than-life man in my path.

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