Anthony Burnisky the 3rd

I said there would be more about Anthony Burnisky, my Uncle. What a colorful guy.

I remember we were all supposed to be in awe of Uncle “Butcher” . Tread softly in his presence.  Probably because he was the Patriarch at the time.  But I did not clearly undersand that when I was 10 years old or so.  I was raised, along with my siblings, with a fine understanding of Canasta.  I was a Canasta Prodigy of sorts… and invited to play Canasta one day when Uncle Anthony came to visit.  I was able to hold my own.  Not display my emotions. Throw my discards in a timely fashion. Place my red 3’s with the proper contained excitement. If I went out blind, nobody suspected it was coming.  We were playing for money one day in our dining room with Uncle Anthony, some Aunts and my Mom.  3$.  Wow.   Uncle Anthony didn’t want me to play because I was just a kid.  But I did just fine.  Actually I did super.  I won.  Uh Oh!  Uncle Anthony was mad… The game ended and I was confused… I was so excited because I won, Why was Uncle Anthony Mad?   He was supposed to be the winner but I didn’t know that. When he left he said to my Mom:  That girl is going places.  She is a Smart One. But he didn’t say goodbye to me.  He never did get over being beaten by a little girl at Canasta.

Anybody out there who can play Canasta?  I challenge you.

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