…“Mary was a wonderful person whom I am thankful to have known for the past ten years. She was a talented artist/painter, exceptional creative writer, and a gourmet cook. And in addition to all of those she was a nice person just like her son who we honor every year. She tremendously enjoyed hosting Victor's reception each year and coming to the various class of 64 functions. Mary also liked to "party down" with all of us. The strength that she demonstrated in adversity (the premature loss of her only two children and one of two grandchildren, her husband, Victor Sr., and her many close friends) is something that one reads about in fictional novels, and yet, it was true.”…Terry Bullock 5/23/2008
Mary was born in San Francisco in 1923, in mid-July I believe. She grew up in San Francisco. She told me of watching the building of the Golden Gate Bridge every day as she walked to high school. In early 1942, Mary’s father (Louis Salvo) bought a farm in Mountain View. He bought the farm from Japanese-American citizens who were being forced into a concentration camp. He bought everything on the farm; even the truck he drove them to the station with.
Here I can interject one of Mary’s stories. A few months after the Japanese family went into internment, they sent a letter to the Navone’s. In the letter they said they knew the Navone’s didn’t know a lot about the raspberries and apricots and, if they needed any help they could just write. Louis, Mary’s father told her NOT to answer the letter. He reasoned that he, being an Italian immigrant, writing letters to Japanese in an internment camp (Japan and Italy BOTH being enemies), people might misunderstand. Mary hated not being able to answer, but her father was probably right.
Mary fell in love with Vic Navone before he want with the US Army to Europe during WWII. Vic (the senior) was a truck driver with the famous Red Ball Express (trucks that made high-speed runs from the coast of France all the way to the front lines carrying ammunition and critical supplies… NOBODY got in the way of the Red Ball Express!!) Vic came home from the war in May of 1945 – they were married about a week later.
Mary and her family moved from the farm to the house on Creston in Los Altos in, I believe, 1961. She lived there until moving to the Forum in mid-2006.
I didn’t see Mary from 1969 (I spent 10-12 days at the house before and after young Vic's funeral) until the award reception in 2004… a long story, but my loss. After renewing our friendship in 2004 I haven’t missed a month without a visit. All those wasted years are other stories.
Mary Navone was more than a friend to me. She filled in quite effectively for the mother I lost over a decade ago. Even though I lived a fair distance away we have gotten together ever two weeks or so for several years now. I have come to cherish these trips. A couple of months ago we actually drove all the way to the top of Montebello Road. We traveled and talked and argued and fought, but mostly we loved - each having a hole in our heart filled with our friendship.
When I was 16-17 I used to go over to the Navone’s house late in the evening, after dates. If Vic’s room light was on I would tap on the window and go in and talk for a while. Some nights Vic would be sleeping and Mary would be in his room using a sewing machine she kept there – those nights Mary and I would talk; sometime for hours.
As much as I loved and respected the son (my oldest son is named Victor), I grew to love and respect the mother even more. Mary Navone was one hell of a lady, my shell is vastly emptier without her presence.
Bill Whitacre
