Marion A. "Mugs" Mugavero, former owner of Little Italy's Mugavero Confectionery, where he served up plates of pasta or his signature meatball sandwich, died Monday at his Northwood home of heart and kidney failure. He was 92.
"Mugs was an absolutely great guy and a legend in Little Italy," former Mayor Thomas J. D'Alesandro III said Thursday. "He was a commanding figure, a big husky guy who conveyed toughness. No one ever messed around with Mugs."
"He really was larger than life," said a son, David Mugavero of Irvine, Calif.
Mike Tirocchi, who lives in Ellicott City, grew up in Little Italy and first visited the store in 1955.
"I was 12 years old, and I continued going to the store throughout my life. When I was a sales rep on the street, I'd go there at least twice a week," said Mr. Tirocchi.
"The thing I most remember about Mugs was that he was the toughest guy I ever met, but he had a soft side. At Christmastime, he put a small tree on the counter right after Thanksgiving that he decorated with ribbons," he said.
"People would put money on the tree and then Mugs would ask the police or fire department if they knew of a needy family, and he made sure they got the money. Sometimes there would be $400 or $500 on that tree," he said.
Mr. Mugavero was the son of Italian immigrants. His father, Gregorio Mugavero, was a baker, and his mother, Salvatore Mogavero Mugavero, was a homemaker.
Marion Anthony Mugavero was born and raised in a home on Fawn Street where his father operated his bakery. He attended city schools through the sixth grade and then enlisted in 1939 in the Coast Guard.
During World War II, he served as a gunner's mate in Europe and the Pacific theaters aboard the attack transport USS Joseph T. Dickman.
After being discharged at war's end, he worked for the railroad and as a teamster before opening Mugavero's Confectionery in 1947 at Exeter and Fawn streets.
"I don't think the Navy was ever the same again after Mugs got out," said Mr. D'Alesandro with a laugh.
"You had to be tough because of the cast of characters that came into his store," said Mr. Tirocchi.
"Some people called it the Fawn Confectionery," said his daughter, Gayle Mugavero-Grimm of Columbia. "He served hot dogs, subs or whatever he wanted to cook that day. There was never a menu or a price list. Some days he charged people, and some days you didn't have to pay for the food."
Ms. Mugavero-Grimm recalled when she was a little girl watching a child come into store and then go behind the counter and grab a piece of candy. He then opened the cash register.
"I said, 'He's going to steal the money,' and [Mr. Mugavero] said, 'No, he's not, we have the honor system here. You get what you want, and then you pay for it,' " she said.
"Everyone was identified by what corner they hung out on, and we hung out at Mugs', which was a block from my house," said Mr. D'Alesandro.
Bill Bertazon of Bel Air also grew up in Little Italy.
"We used to hang out at Jake's Confectionery Store because the older guys hung out at Mugs and they wouldn't let us hang there," said Mr. Bertazon. "When we turned 15 or 16, then we graduated, and they let us come down there."
Mr. Bertazon worked at the confectionery, which also sold cigarettes, candy, toilet paper, ice cream cones and pasta.
"When I was in high school, I worked there from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m., when we closed. I'd clean up and mop the floor. Sometimes there would be a pinochle game in the back or people playing the two pinball machines he had in the store," said Mr. Bertazon.
"He was a character with so many cliches that tumbled out of his head simultaneously. Mugs would always have a wet towel slung over his shoulder, and we'd be sitting around and he'd say, 'Are you guys going to eat, or what?' " said Mr. Bertazon. "Then he'd go over to the soda case, open the lid and yell down, 'Hey Charlie, send up some menus,' and then would hit us with the towel."
Mr. Mugavero brought a certain directness when it came time for customers to pay their bill.
"Mugs would say, 'Hey, gunfighter, you're a little slow on the draw, so how about paying up,' " said Mr. Bertazon with a laugh.
"If you ever asked for mayo on an Italian cold cut sub, he'd tell you, 'Why would a person put mayo in an Italian cold cut sub? That's a total joke,' " said his other son, Greg Mugavero of Jarrettsville.
"My favorite was the meatball sub that came with lettuce, tomato and fried onions," said Mr. D'Alesandro.
Mr. Mugavero's "office" was a phone booth in a corner of the store.
"Even though it was a public phone, if you got in there, he'd flip out. The regulars who came in there knew it was a private phone and would not consider going near it," said Greg Mugavero.
The elder Mr. Mugavero worked in the store seven days a week, and only cut back to six days a week the last five years before retiring at 89.
Mr. Mugavero served as a mentor to many young men who might have turned to drugs, said his daughter.
"He kept his eye on everyone, and they would come and thank him for it. He had a stern outer shell but a very soft heart," said Ms. Mugavero-Grimm, who with her brother, Greg, converted the store after their father retired into Mugs' Bistro.
"He was like a second father to me. He was a man who had plenty of wisdom and a great sense of humor," said David W. Bercham of Little Italy. "He really was the patriarch of Little Italy."
"He never put on airs and treated everyone the same, whether it was Nancy Pelosi who came into the store or anyone else," said his daughter, who added that her father had a "wide circle of friends in Baltimore."
Mr. Mugavero enjoyed cooking and working in his garden.
He was a member of St. Leo the Great Roman Catholic Church, 227 S. Exeter St., where a Mass of Christian burial will be offered at 10 a.m. Saturday.
In addition to his children, Mr. Mugavero is survived by his wife of 56 years, the former Eleanor Parker; a sister, Helen Motto of Towson; and six grandsons.