By KEITH GRANT
Edmund Buscemi served the City of Long Beach for more than 50 years and leaves behind shoes that are difficult, if not impossible, to fill. The former police commissioner and city councilman died last Thursday, Feb. 13, of heart failure at Long Beach Medical Center. Mr. Buscemi was 74.
Mr. Buscemi retired from the City Council only 15 months ago, ending a 13-year tenure that included a stint as council president. Previously he devoted 20 years to the Long Beach Police Department, the last four as commissioner after rising through the ranks from patrolman to captain Ñ the highest civil-service post, which the department has since abolished.
He loved the police department, his daughter Laurie Buscemi said. He was a cop's cop. Probably one of the best police commissioners the city has ever seen. His cops loved him.
Assemblyman Harvey Weisenberg counted Mr. Buscemi as a lifelong friend, fellow lifeguard and police colleague. The two longtime public servants joined the LBPD on the same day.
His first love was his family. His second was the city, Weisenberg said. He had a dream of what this city could be. He loved not only the job, but the people and city he served.
Mr. Buscemi moved to Long Beach from the Bronx with his widowed mother in 1945. He had already come to love Long Beach after spending many summers in the family's home on Ocean View. From 1947 to 1951, he starred in soccer and baseball at Siena College. According to Jason Rich, the school's sports information director, Mr. Buscemi was an Honorable Mention All-American goalie in soccer and, known on the baseball diamond as The Fence Buster, routinely batted in the high .300s and low .400s. He is currently a nominee for the school's Sports Hall of Fame.
Mr. Buscemi earned tryouts with both the Yankees and then-New York Giants after his graduation in 1951, but was drafted into the Marines. A history major at Siena, he was assigned the task of teaching Marine Corps history to new recruits during his two-year tour of duty.
In 1956, Mr. Buscemi joined the Long Beach Police Department. Over the next 16 years, he rose through the ranks from patrolman to detective sergeant, detective lieutenant, and finally captain. In 1972, Mr. Buscemi was appointed police commissioner.
Retiring from the department in 1976, Mr. Buscemi found himself anxious to get back into action in the 80s, according to Larry Elovich, the president of the Long Beach Chamber of Commerce. Mr. Buscemi was soon appointed to a position on the Zoning Board of Appeals, began serving as the unpaid executive director of the chamber Ñ a post he held for 17 years, until his death Ñ and, in 1988, began his 13-year tenure on the City Council.
He was a remarkably good person who could never say no to anyone no matter what they wanted, Elovich said. In politics, everything's about, Who's your friend?' To him, anybody from Long Beach was his friend.
Elovich said his friend was one of the most popular bipartisan councilmen the city has ever had. They don't make people like that anymore, said Elovich. He just wanted to help everybody he dealt with.
James Moriarty, the current Long Beach Republican leader who served on the City Council with Mr. Buscemi, called his former colleague an outstanding public servant who was able to cross party lines. He had a unique ability to work with people of all walks of life, Moriarty said. He noted that Mr. Buscemi often brought a smile to council members' faces with a vocabulary that left his colleagues scrambling for a dictionary.
There was no issue too big or too small for him, Moriarty added. If something was important, he would dive right into it.
From the moment he began his half-century of service, Long Beach was Mr. Buscemi's life, his daughter Laurie said. Through his service to it, residents from all parts of town came to know how special Mr. Buscemi was, she said. People all over town all knew what kind of person he was. He was just a great man.
Marilyn Gusler Ñ a lifelong friend who noted that among his contributions, Mr. Buscemi had founded Michael Valente Lodge of the Sons of Italy Ñ said, He was the best. If you were his friend, you were his friend. And there was nothing he wouldn't do for you.
He was just a big ol' gentle bear, Weisenberg said. He had a great sense of warmth. He was a kind, caring human being who cared about all people. As big, strong and tough as he was, that's how gentle he was.
He also had a terrific sense of humor, friends noted. As any of his buddies from Shine's could attest to, Mr. Buscemi not only was a good jokester, but could also handle being on the receiving end of a prank.
His love of his home and family were serious subjects, though. And Mr. Buscemi handled both with honor and dignity. We were very lucky as a family, Laurie Buscemi said, and he instilled that in us, how lucky we are. He brought us up with a strong sense of family values and loyalty. All the lessons he learned in life, he taught to us.
He was a wonderful man, she added. No one will ever fill his shoes. We're proud. We're proud because he gave us so much to be proud of.
In addition to his daughter Laurie, Mr. Buscemi is survived by his wife of 48 years, Harriet; a son, Vincent, a lieutenant in the Long Beach Police Department; daughters Valerie Buscemi and Patrice Sacks; a sister, Gloria Wiesen, of Far Rockaway; and two grandchildren.
Following services Tuesday morning, Feb. 18 at St. Ignatius Martyr Church, Mr. Buscemi was buried at Calverton National Cemetery.
