Tribute to my father

Salvatore Leonetti (May 12th, 1937 - February 2, 2026)

Losing my dad has been difficult. But if there’s one thing I keep coming back to, it’s how incredibly lucky I am to have had him for as long as I did. I’m so grateful that I got to have him in my life into my 40s - that is a gift I will never take for granted. I keep thinking about how he was 44 when I was born and I was 44 when he passed. I was around for exactly half of his life - but this is my first time experiencing life without him

Having an older dad always made me feel special. I understand references other people my age rarely did. Including so much pop culture from the 1940s (which makes me dangerous at Jeopardy). He taught me about music, movies, and sports, and about appreciating the things that make life fun. He was fiercely proud of his Italian heritage and made growing up in a small apartment in Brooklyn sound like paradise.

He introduced me to the most incredible music at such a young age. Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald, Nat King Cole… legends that became the soundtrack of my childhood. And somehow, when I was a kid, I even got to see Sinatra perform live. Who else gets to say that?

Our yearly trips to Las Vegas are some of my favorite memories. My sister and I would sit in showrooms watching iconic performers, almost always the youngest people there, sipping Shirley Temples while my mom was usually the next youngest in the room. Those trips weren’t just vacations — they were traditions filled with laughter, music, and the magic he loved so much.

My dad was brilliant with numbers and proudly taught me how to gamble (responsibly, of course). But beyond that, he just had this sharp, curious mind that made him fascinating to talk to about anything.

He also loved movies and shared that love with me early on. He introduced me to so many classic films and actors, and he thought it was the coolest thing that I ended up working at a movie studio. Seeing his pride in that meant everything to me. Although he always seemed a tad disappointed that I couldn't put him in the movies!

Sports were another language we shared. Some of my favorite memories are going to NY Giants football games with him and his friends, watching him in his element, and just getting to be part of something he loved so much. During baseball season his entire mood was informed by the highs and lows of Yankees baseball. He adored Joe DiMaggio (who he had the opportunity to see play in person numerous times during his childhood) and was always nervous if any player came close to his hitting streak.

One of the things I’ll miss most is how funny he was and how easily he connected with people. He could talk to anyone, make them laugh, and make them feel like they mattered. He had that rare ability to turn everyday moments into something memorable just by being himself.

What feels hardest to accept is knowing that every new person I meet and every new experience I have from here on out is something I won’t get to share with him. That thought breaks my heart. But I’m comforted knowing that so much of who I am, what I love, and how I experience the world is because of him.

More than anything, my dad gave me experiences, traditions, humor, and a lifelong appreciation for music, film, sports, and living life fully. I feel truly blessed for the time we had together and for every memory that now lives in my heart.

I intensely miss him, but I carry him with me in so many parts of who I am...even the bizarre quirks he was known for :)