It's 2021, and the world is battling a deadly pandemic. I'm 70 years old, trying to stay healthy until I can get a vaccine injection. In the meantime, quasi-quarantine and of course, personal masking and social-distancing are part of my daily routine. All of which has been a terrible nuisance in what has been a life long quest to solve a mystery that began almost a century ago.

Before I get ahead of my skis as the saying goes; and it's only a saying now, because at my age, I'd be a fool to ski again. I wasn't that good at it in my twenties. Let me introduce myself. My name is Jake and I'm semi-retired living in Texas. I haven't always lived here, but I've lived longest and best here. I'm also planning on living out the rest of my days on this big Lake Conroe which is in my backyard.

This quest began for me over 60 years ago when I was a young boy living on Long Island, New York. My family is of Italian descent and my grandparents migrated to America sailing past the Statute of Liberty and walking through U.S. Customs on Ellis Island. They became proud U.S. citizens and raised law-abiding and productive families in and around New York City.

Our family began an import business for Extra Virgin Olive Oil from a family in Naples, Italy. This olive oil was so popular that we soon opened a Chicago branch which was why some of our family clan moved to Chicago in the early 1920's.

Typical of the era, families had many kids and therefore family gatherings were always large events, not to mention frequent, for almost any occasion. Holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, graduations, or you name it. Anytime was party time for family gatherings which could happen at anyone's home...usually the backyard during the day or basement at night.

I recall one party, but not the specific event, when I think I was seven years old. It was at my house so I got to stay up late and attend the basement party. A few of my Uncles were drinking and talking while I was standing close by trying to eavesdrop their conversation.

Uncle Pasquale (Pat): "Any news of the family jewels?"

Uncle Salvatore (Jack): "Not so loud Pat."

Uncle Francis (Frank): "What's the matter with you? Don't talk about such things here!"

Uncle Pasquale: "I work all week and this is the first chance I have to see both of you. Tell me if there is any news."

Uncle Francis: "Pat, you're killing me. Ok, Jack and I have some news but move in close."

Uncle Salvatore: "Speak quiet, the kid is standing kind of close don't you think Frank?"

Uncle Francis: "Who? That's my Godson Jake. He's beautiful. Come here Jake. He should hear this too."

Uncle Salvatore: "Frank are you crazy or just have too much vino?"

I looked up at my Godfather Uncle Frank as he pinched my cheek (I always hated that), gave me a wet kiss on the cheek, and then picked me up and sat me on his lap.

Uncle Pasquale: "Alright Frank, now that you got the Little Chairman of the Board on your lap, give me an update."

Uncle Francis: "Well you recall Aunt Elena's final words. 'The motor car is running in the subway and my valise is locked in the trunk.' But when Uncle Dominick recovered the car, the valise was missing and has never been recovered."

Uncle Pasquale: "Yes this is old news. What new information do you have?"

Uncle Francis: "It's been almost thirty years since that happened, but we've finally discovered where the motor car stopped right after it was stolen."

Uncle Pasquale: "Really, where?"

Uncle Salvatore: "As Aunt Elena said in her final words, the motor car was in the subway. Whoever took it drove it to the loading docks of an Italian seafood restaurant by the name Bertollini's."

Uncle Francis: "Bertollini's closed recently and was being demolished and a secret cellar with a vault was discovered. There had always been some rumors that the restaurant had Mafia connections but nothing had ever been proven. So now the police want to take a look inside the vault and have stopped the demolition."

Uncle Pasquale: "Other than being an interesting story, how does this help us recover the valise and its' contents? What's the chance the jewels were left in the vault for thirty years? Not to mention, once the police open the vault, they won't be giving away any of the contents."

Uncle Francis: "Even if the jewels are not there, any clues that the valise had been there will give us a new path to follow in our quest to recover them."

Uncle Pasquale: "I see. But how do you plan to see in the vault?"

Uncle Francis: "Brothers, I think this is enough talk for now."

With that, Uncle Frank booted me off his lap and my Uncles continued to talk and drink, as I walked away somewhere between enlightened and intrigued.

I didn't hear any more about Aunt Elena over the next couple of years and in 1959 my family moved to Florida. While moving into our new home, there were plenty of boxes to unpack. One evening, we were looking through some photo albums. On one page my Mom pointed to a photo of her Aunt Ellen.

That immediately caught my attention and I asked my Mom about her. She was Mom's cousin. It turns out that in Italian families, almost everyone is a cousin so that didn't add much clarity. I learned she had lived in Chicago until her death in 1929. When I asked how she died, my Mom brushed off the question and turned the page. Fortunately, two pages later there was another photo of Aunt Ellen. I again asked how she had died. Mom finally replied "In a robbery." That's all she would tell me.

Then I boldly asked, "What were her final words?"

"My God Jake! What on earth made you ask that?"

"I overheard some relatives at a party several years ago talking about her final words."

Mom just looked at me for several long moments and said, "I really don't know her final words."

Since Mom wasn't going to help me, I was going to have to do some research the old fashioned way. And I really mean that because there was no internet or personal computers as of yet. I went to the library and researched the name Ellen and learned that in Italian her name would actually be Elena. Next, I recalled my maternal grandmother's maiden name was Vecchione. I combined that with Chicago and 1929 to locate her obituary. It identified her date of death as August 12, 1929. I used that date to comb through Chicago newspaper headlines and found a criminal news story: "Local Italian Woman Shot and Car Stolen." This was the story about Aunt Ellen. I printed it for future reference. I also printed the obituary just because she was family. I re-read the obituary and learned that Uncle Dominick was Aunt Ellen's husband. That made me feel smart to have printed the obituary since it provided a tidbit of helpful information.

As luck would have it, the Chicago Historical Society sued the Police Department to keep them from disturbing the Bertolini restaurant as well as the secret vault. It was tied up in litigation for years. This was probably why I never heard anything further about it from my Uncles. However, suddenly, in 1986, Geraldo Rivera had a television reality news show involving the opening of Al Capone's secret vault beneath the streets of downtown Chicago. Everyone in our family was glued to television sets for the full two hours watching and waiting to see what was inside the vault. Then nothing. There was nothing inside. No valise. No jewels. I think that most of the family were actually relieved that nothing was found since that would have ended the quest in a most negative outcome with no way to recover the jewels for the family.

The final words of Aunt Elena live on as does the family quest.