Jack Sapia, 86, of State College, died Sunday, January 20, 2013, at Elmcroft of State College.
Born January 27, 1926, in Charleroi, he was the son of the late Salvatore and Mary Territa Sapia. On June 5, 1958 he married Doris Virginia Arnold, who died on November 9, 1999.
He is survived by two sons, Mark Sapia and his wife, Clare, of State College, Tony Sapia, of State College and five grandchildren. He was predeceased by a son, Arn Sapia on May 24, 1983 and three sisters, Constance Sasko, Virginia Villella and Caroline Dulack.
He served in the Navy in WWII.
Jack was a graduate of Pittsburgh Academy High School. He graduated with a Bachelor’s degree in Hotel Administration from Penn State University in 1959.
He was a member of Our Lady of Victory Catholic Church. He was also a member of the Knights of Columbus, State College, Veterans of Foreign Wars, American Legion, Elks Lodge , all of Charleroi and the Presidents Club of PSU.
Visitation will be 5-8 p.m., Wednesday, January 23, 2013 at Koch Funeral Home, 2401 S. Atherton St., State College.
Funeral service will be 10:30 a.m., Thursday, January 24, 2013 at Our Lady of Victory Catholic Church, 820 Westerly Parkway, State College with Monsignor David Lockard officiating.
Entombment will be in Centre County Memorial Park.
Memorial contributions may be made to ¬¬¬¬the American Diabetes Association at 300 Penn Center BLVD#602, Pittsburgh, PA 15235.
Arrangements are under the care of Koch Funeral Home, State College. Online condolences and signing of the guest book may be entered at www.kochfuneralhome.com.
WITH OR WITHOUT MUSTARD? BY DORIS SAPIA
Explain My-O-My? Simple as A,B,C. It looks like Ellis Island on Sunday Afternoon: “it’s a bar Hong Kong”…..ham ‘n cheese and chicken wings: Chesty or Ahmid or Sam from Siam. Throw in upstairs or downstairs….Servello’s murals….”it’s either a plus or a minus, do whatever you can afford”……”where celebrities come to meet people.” It’s all of this and yet---it could not be without Jack. It is not candlelight dinner with muted music: it is not mellow surroundings for urban entertaining; it is not Early American. T.G.I.F., beat, weird, or paid for. The spirit of Jack’s My-O-My is reflected in his life and by its mirrors; at times smudged, finger-marked, bright, clear, square, dark, cloudy, brilliant, chipped, whole. And so, I ask myself: do the mirrors reflect the habitués or does the habitat ape the images? Does the neighborhood make the bar, or does the bar dictate the neighborhood? The answer is insignificant; My-O-My, the place, is unimportant except as a common exchange for thought, refreshment, ideas, and friendship. When the last “last call” no longer shrills and the smoky draught clears, the myriad clamors and sounds, customs, mores, and faces return to echo their differences as well as their similarities. The need to find yourself as an individual is here: Six kinds of beer on tap and someone to listen to you is here! Companionship and camaraderie is here! Friendship but with proof of age! Freedom of action and speech but no trespassing is here! Businessmen, professors, taxi drivers, poets, plumbers, students---all of these and many more come to this place, a place and persons freer in thought and feeling than most allow themselves to be, to dispel their common loneliness, share their joys, and together unwind and rebuild again from a fast-moving and oft times frightening world. The My-O-My could be any bar, but it is not; its diversified types of people, are member of a larger community….often eager, attentive, amused, enthusiastic, refusing to leave at the end, calling back its players again and again---this is the community of us all. Last call! Lock it up, boys…there’s a party on Waupelani Drive.” Last call jack…Thanks Jack! What a life Dad, My-O-My!