Perry Como was a beloved American institution. But he didn't always have it easy. From the
illness that left his father disabled, to the sudden tragedy that took his wife's life,
here are some devastating details about Perry Como.
Born in 1912 and growing up in small-town Pennsylvania to Italian immigrants,
Perry Como was the seventh of 13 children. According to The Saturday Evening Post,
Perry entered the workforce at the age of 10, getting up bright and early at 6 a.m.
every day, ready to sweep floors at a barbershop before heading to school.
And when school ended, he was back at the barbershop, and back to work.
A mere three years later, he worked his way up to a barber position, manning his own chair.
Years later, he wrote in Guideposts that his parents instilled a strong work ethic in him.
"[They] raised 13 kids, and not one of them a black sheep. [...] We all worked."
He explained that because of his family's hard work ethic,
"it was natural" for him to start working young. He wrote that his goal was, quote,
"to be the best barber between Canonsburg and Cleveland."
And during slow periods at the barbershop,
he passed the time by singing and playing the guitar. He said,
"The singing was [...] a reflection of the joy that came from a happy home."
Working at such a young age would come in handy for Perry Como. As he explained in his
piece for Guideposts in 1953, the boy's entry into barbershop work began with the basics:
sweeping hair and polishing mirrors. Clearly, the owner must have taken a liking to the preteen,
and he eventually taught him how to cut hair for 50 cents a week.
As Canonsburg was a small mining and mill town in southwestern Pennsylvania,
Como's father, Pietro, worked as a millhand. Tragically, though,
his father developed heart problems and had to leave his job at the mill.
Como wrote, quote, "during the last 15 years of his life he was a hopeless invalid."
That meant that at age 14, Como had to assume a big part of the family's financial burden.
Pietro got his son his own barbershop, which turned out to be a financial blessing. He
wrote in Guideposts, quote, "By the time I was 20, I was making a big fat $40 a week."
Throughout it all, his parents reminded Perry to remain humble, telling him that the
meaning of prosperity was having, quote, "enough to remind you to be thankful."
Perry Como met his future wife, Roselle Belline, while he was running his own barbershop in
Canonsburg, Pennsylvania. According to The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, the pair began dating,
and she stayed by his side in the 1930s when he started "performing on stages" near his hometown.
According to Billboard, one chance vacation to Cleveland led Como to
audition for the Freddy Carlone band, and he was eventually offered to join for a mere $28
a week. Giving up the sure paycheck offered by the barbershop must have been a tough decision,
but in 1933, Como decided to give singing a shot.
He also married Roselle that same year, and according to The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette,
the couple lived on the road for the rest of the decade,
staying in different apartments while he sang for Freddy Carlone. Roselle said,
"We had some tough times. Money was tight but we were frugal and we lived on what he made."
Three years after his first big break with the Freddy Carlone band, Perry Como joined the Ted
Weems Orchestra in 1936, a well-liked dance band at the time. As revealed by Billboard,
the pay raise was a fantastic boost, too, and the artist was suddenly making $50 a week.
According to "Roadkill on the Three-chord Highway" by Colin Escott,
Como was relatively happy with the Weems Orchestra, but the endless touring proved
to be difficult for the young man. After all, Como and his wife had just begun a family:
the pair welcomed their son, Ronnie, in 1940 and eventually adopted two more kids, Terry and David.
Roselle told the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette that they, quote,
"always put family first," to the point that when Ronnie was born, Como was almost fired for leaving
a gig right in the middle of his performance so he could be with Roselle at the hospital.
As revealed in "Roadkill on the Three-chord Highway," when Weems himself was enlisted
to join the Army in 1942, the band broke up, and Como used that as an excuse to head home,
ready to settle down in domestic bliss. Roselle wasn't having any of it and urged
her husband to keep pushing forward. Como later told the Orlando Sentinel,
"If it wasn't for her I'd have the best barbershop in town."
When you think of Perry Como, the first songs that may come to your mind when you hear his name
may be "Papa Loves Mambo," or "Hot Diggity Dog (Ziggity Boom)," the former being popularized
again in both "Back to the Future Part II" and "Oceans 11," decades after it was recorded.
Those gimmicky hits brought Como fame and fortune, but they also undermined his legacy,
making him seem like less than a serious artist. The Saturday Evening Post wrote, quote, "the
greatest enemy of Como's legacy has been, paradoxically, his greatest successes."
So, how did Como feel about these catchy tunes? According
to "Roadkill on the Three-chord Highway," the singer called his biggest hits "crap."
"I'd tell the A&R [artists and repertoire] man, 'I can't sing that garbage.'"
But Como had no choice at the time, as it was those songs that made him the most money.
In later years, though, Como had more control of his career
and stopped performing his novelty hits on tour. Saying that he was
"embarrassed" to have the songs attached to his name, Como told The Orlando Sentinel,
"I don't sing any of those songs in my show. I reserve the right to say no."
While Perry Como's singing style fit in perfectly among the likes of Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra,
his crossover onto the silver screen wasn't as successful as theirs.
In fact, the singer only has four big-screen credits to his name.
According to "Roadkill on the Three-chord Highway," Como actually asked to be released
from his movie contract in 1947 because he thought he was so unsuited to acting.
"I get sick to my stomach when I see [my movies] [...] What the hell did I know about acting?"
It's not that Como didn't like being in front of the camera, however. He found
a lot more success on the small screen, hosting his own variety show. He proved to be a natural,
and his show was a massive hit. For almost a decade, "The Perry Como Show" was quite
popular in both the U.S. and England and saw the star take home multiple Primetime Emmy Awards.
However, "The Perry Como Show" didn't come without its own hiccups, as Como explained to the South
Florida Sun-Sentinel years later. As he recalled, one episode was doomed with technical problems,
quote, "[starting] out with six cameras and [winding] up with one." As he revealed,
"By the end of the show, everything had gone wrong that could go wrong,
people were running all over the place, and the audience was going crazy with laughter."
Perhaps the most tragic part of Perry Como's professional career
is that the masses didn't take him as seriously as his contemporaries.
Maybe it was the novelty tracks, or perhaps the singer was simply too laid-back for his own good,
as the public didn't find any sort of turmoil or salacious gossip in his life
to splash amongst front pages of magazines — like that of Frank Sinatra, for example.
He also suffered by being compared to contemporary stars like Bing Crosby.
When Como was starting off singing with the Ted Weems Orchestra in the mid-'30s,
record labels brushed him aside, saying he sounded too much like Crosby. Per "Roadkill
on the Three-chord Highway," Dave Kapp, the brother of the president of Decca records,
once snapped to Weems, quote, "Why are you letting him sing?" As Como later reflected,
"It was like someone was stabbing me."
The comparison to Crosby only continued,
especially when Como began appearing on television. Como later told The Orlando Sentinel,
"When I got on TV, the thing about Bing bothered me. It felt to me like I was copying him.
And I was. [...] Frank [Sinatra] admits it too. If it weren't for
Bing […] neither Frank nor I would be here."
Remarkably enough, Perry Como remained with the same woman throughout his entire life — a
refreshing achievement during a time when some respected musicians were, well, terrible people.
In 1990, Como told Good Housekeeping Magazine that Roselle was still his "best friend," saying
"Throughout our lives she has always been so supportive. And
honest. [...] She has been my anchor."
"We still talk! Well, we'd better!"
Roselle was always quick to reciprocate her beau's love, as well, and in 1998,
just before the couples' 65th wedding anniversary, she gushed to The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette,
"He was and still is the most gentle and humble man I ever met."
Tragically, a mere two weeks after their anniversary, Roselle died of a heart attack,
leaving Como devastated. During a charity event in the weeks that came,
the singer dedicated his song "And I Love You So" to his best friend and life partner.
Never appearing in the tabloids negatively, it seems that Perry Como was beloved by all,
even in his later years. A 1991 documentary segment on the singer for "Hard Copy" began,
"After 60 years in show business, they say Perry Como hasn't lost a friend."
And Eddie Fisher, Como's friend, agreed, telling "Hard Copy,"
"Any moment that I, that anyone can spend with Perry, has got to be a wonderful moment."
But did Como's family get any of those wonderful moments with him? Juggling a growing family
with his professional career proved to be difficult. Como said that touring caused a,
quote, "disruption of family life." He told Good Housekeeping Magazine,
"My only regret in life is that I didn't spend as much time with my kids as I now wish I had."
He noted that while he did try to spend as much time with his family as possible,
it was Roselle who was in charge of the house.
"I missed out on a lot of wonderful moments,
missed watching my kids grow into the wonderful people they are today."
Thankfully, the singer had one silver lining: summer vacation.
Como told Good Housekeeping that he got 13 weeks off during the summer,
and would take the whole family on trips, saying, quote, "I loved it. I needed it."
During the final few years of his life,
Perry Como's health was, sadly, deteriorating. According to Warm 106.9, he overcame bladder
cancer in 1993 was later diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease before dying in 2001.
According to the South Florida Sun-Sentinel, Como died alone,
sitting in his bedroom chair. A week later, a service was held in Palm
Beach with 700 mourners. Como's daughter, Terri Thibadeau, told those in attendance,
"He was just Dad [...] We were taught that life in and of itself was an expression of love.
Thank you for loving our father as we did."
Tragically, it looks like the Como clan were stuck in a bitter dispute during Perry's final years. As
revealed by the Sarasota Herald-Tribune, Thibadeau and her brother, Ronald Como,
were locked in a battle over who would provide their famous father with medical care.
While Perry wrote in his will that he requested Ronald to be named executor of his estate,
Thibadeau argued that her brother went against other requests made by Perry in his living will,
by doing things such as putting him on a respirator and feeding him through a tube.
Ultimately, the singer's estate was distributed among his three children and 13 grandchildren.
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