John Pente, in the springtime of his 97th year, climbed the stairs to his third-floor bedroom Friday night, and peered through the window at what he helped to create, and he saw it was good.

Below him in the street, a magnificent crowd was gathering for the opening of the ninth Little Italy film festival.

It was “Moonstruck” on this night, but it was more than that.

It was a gathering of the faithful, those who believe in the life of cities, in the importance of communities, in the joys of mingling under the stars on a summer evening.

This story continues below
Advertisement

“Nine years,” Pente said. “People say I knew Abe Lincoln, but it’s not true. I was actually a young man when this started.”

He laughed delightedly at his little joke.

“I was 38 when they put this together,” he said.

Actually he was 88, but who’s counting?

It was 1998 when some of the restaurateurs in the neighborhood got the idea for the Friday night gatherings that have become one of the community’s great feel-good events and a model for similar outdoor evenings around the metro area.

Once they figured out where to put the big movie screen — on the parking lot for DaMimmo’s Restaurant, on the side wall of Ciao Bella Restaurant — the big issue was: Where do we put a projector?

It came down to one man, Pente, who lives at the corner of Stiles and High streets.

The perfect location for that projector? His third-floor bedroom window.

Without his cooperation, the whole thing would never get off the ground.

Would he do it?

Are you kidding?

“I told them,” he said, “if it’s good for the neighborhood, you can do anything you want.”

He gazed through his little bedroom window, with the projector sitting nearby.

The clock said 7:15, still two hours until movie time.

But the parking lot was filled with chairs and so were the streets around it.

Some of the chairs were filled with people who’d brought dinner and drinks with them and were picnicking and listening to live music until the movie started.

Some had set up their chairs and left them there. They were dining in one of the neighborhood restaurants and would return for the movie.

“They started arriving at 4 o’clock,” Roland Keh said.

He owns Amicci’s Restaurant across the street and tonight he was doing double duty, running the projector.

He’s a neighborhood guy, “born and bred down here,” he said. “Forty-three years.”

That’s not quite half the time since the 10-year-old Pente moved in here 87 years ago.

“I’m thinking of staying 20 more years,” he said. “I can do it standing on my head.”

He looked around the little bedroom, filled with pictures of the film festival on the walls and the furniture.

There were shots of Pente with famous visitors: Joe Garagiola and Artie Donovan, Parris Glendening and Martin O’Malley.

When the series started, there were a few hundred people the first week or two — now, a few thousand. The story’s been reported all over the world in newspapers and on television and radio.

Each report brings good will not only to Little Italy, but to Baltimore.

“You see all these people,” Pente said, “and it’s fantastic. You say to yourself, ‘How could it be?’ I’ve been interviewed by the New York Times, by People magazine, by the BBC. How could it be?”

“I’ll tell you how,” Keh said.

“It’s the spirit of Little Italy. It’s the neighborhood’s zest for life. I grew up, we had the church festivals down here, and the boccie ball. We like to bring people together.”

He gestured to the crowd below.

“Like this,” he said.

Along the packed sidewalk on High Street on Friday, Tony Gambino, owner of Ciao Bella, agreed.

“Unity,” he said. “This is a real unifying thing for everybody. And with unity comes prosperity.”

“More people in the restaurants?” he was asked.

“Yes,” he said, “but that’s not what I mean.

“The kind of prosperity of a community getting along, and feeling good about itself. And here we are in a time of war, and terrorism, and on Friday nights in the summer, you have everybody coming together to feel good.”

“It’s a great psychological thing for the neighborhood,” agreed Vince Culotta, co-owner of Sabatino’s Restaurant. “It’s all about what it means to be a community.”

“Look at ‘em,” said John Pente, gazing through his bedroom window. “Who could have imagined it?”

Please send news tips to Michael Olesker at olesker@baltimoreexaminer.com