By Harry Siegel
When Louis Tramunti’s wife called 911, she wanted EMTs to save her
husband’s life after a heart attack. Instead, two policemen threw him to
the floor and broke his back. It was just one of those things; didn’t
even make the papers.
Louis, an old friend of an old friend of
mine, called me nearly a year later because “people need to know about
this, bro,” which didn’t thrill his attorney.
“I’m not typically a
PR lawyer,” said Steven Falkoff when I called. “It’s a basic fact
pattern and excessive-force case. I don’t know how much sexiness there
is for a broader story.”
To Louis—a good-natured if foul-mouthed
37-year-old Bernie-supporting son of Whitestone, a corner of Queens
untouched by gentrification or even integration—it’s the only story.
He’s
been married for seven years to Szilvia, a lovely Hungarian immigrant
whose calmness evens out his off-the-walls hyperactivity, and he’s
worked for more than 15 years as a plumbing surveyor, making good union
wages mapping out where the sleeves go as new high-end Manhattan
buildings rise up. Wherever Louis works now, he etches the name of their
2-year-old son, Marco, behind where the wall will be on each floor. The
job puts him on top of half-finished buildings, Manhattan stretched out
before him. Being up there, he says, is what made him fear thunder.
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Source: The Daily Beast
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