Synopsis

Synopsis:

Drawing from the Sinatra family's private archive, Frank Sinatra: The Family Album vividly chronicles the private life of an iconic American star. Accompanied by unique firsthand recollections and stories from Nancy Sinatra and other family and close friends, these color and black-and-white images are bound in an elegant package designed in the form of a family album. Sinatra fans will see the star clowning with his accompanist, relaxing on the sets of his movies, vacationing with his family on the beach—and those are just a handful of more 100 other images, many of them taken by Sinatra himself. Intimate, comprehensive and elegantly presented, Frank Sinatra: The Family Album follows Sinatra from infancy to 80 with the pictures and behind-the-curtain stories that only a family can provide—and that fans love.
Charles Pignone, the author of The Sinatra Treasures, is the archivist for the Sinatra family. His duties include organizing and maintaining the enormous stores of photographs and memorabilia collected over the course of Sinatra’s life, as well as producing liner notes for several Sinatra albums. Pignone has been the president of America’s largest Sinatra fan club since 1984.

Sample Chapter

SAMPLE CHAPTER/THE SINATRA FAMILY ALBUM:

INTRODUCTION

Close your eyes and think of your most wonderful dream. Maybe it’s the dream that you had when you were young, and life seemed endless; or maybe it’s the dream you have later in your life when it’s quiet at night and you finally have time to think. Think of the dream that could get you through anything. The dream that, one day, would cease to be a dream—one day, it would become a reality.

My grandfather had such a dream: He wanted to be a singer, and to live a life through music. He wanted to make all of our lives better through that music. He wanted to live large and see the world. He wanted to love and help people. My grandfather’s life exceeded his dreams, and this is a rare gift. He was someone who changed the world. Changing the world came with a price, as those whose lives become bigger than their dreams will tell you. When we had time to spend together, he was so happy—he loved to be with his family. Unfortunately, those times were few and far between. He worked so hard to make all of our dreams come true, and I will never be able to thank him for all that he has done for me. He was always there, even when he wasn’t.

As you have moved through your life, whether you are young or old, I bet my grandfather’s voice was there, drifting in the background of your most precious moments. Perhaps it was your wedding, or your graduation. Your first kiss? Your first heartbreak? It could have been a lonely dinner for one, or just a passing moment of sadness. His voice is everywhere. When I hear it coming through the speakers at a shopping mall at Christmas time, or at Yankee Stadium, I feel a little sad. Then I smile because it is wonderful to be reminded of someone who you love, and someone who loved you with all of their heart.

I was not around for the majority of his life, so I suppose my memories of my grandfather will be different from those people who knew him before 1976. What I know is that he was loving, funny, hardworking, a bit moody, and amazingly neat. He loved to sing—he did it all the time in private—and he loved to paint. The art studio was my favorite place to be in his house in Palm Springs. All of his paint tubes were lined up and sorted by color and shade. His brushes were in jars according to size and shape, and rulers hung by the sides of the easels. Rolls of masking tape in various widths were lined up in a box. My grandpa taught me how to paint in that room, and I am happy to say that today I am a working artist. When I was in college, I gave him a painting that I did for him. He hung it on the wall in front of his bed so he could look at it all the time.

His dressing room was my second favorite place. All the clothes were lined up in perfect stacks, organized by color. His most treasured photographs were in lovely frames in rows on the countertops, and mixed in were keepsakes from the trips he had been on and gifts he had received from my sister and me over the years. He had a tray of colognes, and drawers full of the most beautiful handkerchiefs and ties in all the colors of the rainbow. He always had cherry Life Savers, and Wrigley’s PK chewing gum. The room smelled of him: like Yardley’s lavender soap, and Aqua Velva. As a young kid, I would sneak in to his dressing room when everyone was at dinner. I loved to be in there, and to mess with his cuff links. He had a lot of those.

His house in Palm Springs was exactly how he wanted it: It was always warm, and it was decorated with accents of his favorite color, orange. The house was very comfortable, and it was never lonely. My grandpa ate breakfast in the den, and did the New York Times crossword puzzle in pen. He was a creature of habit, and I liked it. I always knew where he would be at all different times of the day.

The reason I am writing all of this in the introduction is so that you will look at these pictures from a different perspective. I hope you look at them through the eyes of a granddaughter who loved her grandfather. I didn’t see him as a superstar; he was Grandpa. He liked maple bars and loved to dive in the pool. He liked to watch Jeopardy! and play with the dogs. He loved the sun and had a bad temper sometimes. He wasn’t very good with money, and he wanted us to succeed in life. He always said, “Stay in school, go to college, and make me proud. Finish.” I did. I called him to tell him I had graduated with honors. Three days later, my Grandpa passed away.

I miss him every day, and I know that his spirit is always with me. I hope you enjoy the book, and that you look at my grandfather with new eyes.

Amanda Erlinger
February 2007