The perils of the silent killer known as COVID-19 hitting close to home

The late Bob Williams, refereeing the Ferris vs. North Arlington girls' soccer game

 at Bergen County Park in Lyndhurst on October 5, 2019

By now, everyone has had to endure the pain and sorrow of losing someone dear due to the COVID-19 coronavirus outbreak. Just in New Jersey alone, there have been close to 3,000 residents who have died. The number is even higher in New York.

In this corner, I’ve had to say “good-bye” in a distant form, with no wake or funeral service. It was just a prayer or two at home to remember how important they were to me.

The first great person to die recently that I care to recognize did not pass of the COVID-19 virus, but she did die fairly suddenly, much to the chagrin of all who loved her.

Raye Ferullo was the secretary to the athletic director at Weehawken High School for about 30 years. If you wanted to talk to a coach or the AD (for the most part was my friend Rich Terpak), the first voice you heard was Raye’s.

Raye was also the wife of the late Lou Ferullo, the long-time councilman and deputy mayor of Weehawken. Raye was also the mother of Rob Ferullo, currently the principal at Weehawken High. Their other son, Louis, works in the Weehawken Public Safety Department. Needless to say, the Ferullo family represents Weehawken in the best way possible.

And Raye was a huge supporter of Weehawken athletics, all teams, all levels. It didn’t matter if it was high school or Little League or Pop Warner or kiddie karate. Raye Ferullo, who also operated on Facebook under the pseudonym “Marvyn Lane,” was always there, cheering on the kids that she got to love and know so well.

Raye was an amazing woman with a bundle of energy and a wealth of knowledge that not everyone else had. She was also a huge fan of my writing, complimenting me on hundreds of different news and sports articles over the years, even ones that didn’t even pertain to Weehawken.

If I happened to write something good about Weehawken, Raye was the first to reach out, even at ungodly hours. But Raye Ferullo loved me and I loved her. We communicated almost daily on Facebook. She was an amazing woman and will be so sorely missed by the community she loved.

The next three people I will mention all died from complications caused by the COVID-19 virus – and this person is also from Weehawken.

Rich Barsa served the public as the finance director in Weehawken as well as the president of the Weehawken Board of Education. The man was all over the place in Weehawken, making sure that the kids of the town were being cared for and were always receiving the best.

Barsa always had to make sure that anything he did for the town fell within budgetary guidelines. His running joke to me over the years was the same line, “We run a very lean budget.”

Barsa always had a good sense of humor as well. Whenever I would attend a social event in Weehawken and I was asked to speak, like at the annual Weehawken Elks’ “Salute to the Press,” Rich would become the brunt of some of my jokes and he took them all with stride. Never once in 15 or so years did Barsa complain about the level of my jokes. He just laughed along with everyone in the audience, proving how good of a sport he was.

Anthony Causi was a brilliant photographer for the New York Post for the last quarter century. He was shooting away all the big events, but especially all the big sporting events, his true love.

Tony loved shooting sports events and found angles and shots that no one else did. You would constantly see him lying on the floor of Madison Square Garden while other photographers would be perched on their knees.

Causi would sneak behind the end zones at MetLife Stadium, trying to capture the miraculous touchdown pass. Eventually, he got a big one – the one-handed snare by Odell Beckham, Jr. that made Beckham a household name.

As talented of a camera dude that Tony was, he was an even nicer guy. We spent many a meal together sitting in the Prudential Center in Newark or the Barclays Center in Brooklyn, talking about families and such.

There was one special incident that comes to mind. One photographer was constantly physically bumping into me while I was trying to conduct interviews. One can imagine how tight the quarters are in an NBA locker room, so as a sportswriter, you try to find a spot where you can equally hear the player talk and then try to scribble notes on a steno pad. Well, in later years, after I got sick and lost use of my legs, balance also became a major issue, so the slightest nudge when trying to decipher what the player is saying and writing notes could be disastrous.

Well, one time, that was exactly the case. I was interviewing Brook Lopez, then the Nets 7-foot center, when the late-arriving photog comes motoring over and crashes into me. I went down, my notebook went flying and laughs ensued. There was no apology as Lopez and another Nets player helped me to my feet.

About three weeks later, the same thing happened again with the same photographer. Collision, notebook and pen become flying machines and sure enough, the big man finds himself on the Nets’ locker room floor. The interview subject was Deron Williams and he didn’t make a move to help me. A couple of fellow writers helped me to my feet. It wasn’t easy to get me up. Again, there were the grammar school-like chuckles, as my withered left leg tried to collect the strength to stand.

I went right after the photographer, confronting him to say that I had fallen twice in the last three weeks – and it was because of him. Now, I thought it was on purpose. Jockeying for locker room position is one thing. Causing the same guy to fall twice was no coincidence. Even Lenny Briscoe would know that.

The man denied he had anything to do with it and brought my size to his defense, saying how could a little man like him knock over a gargantuan like me. I told him he was wrong and he did it. He still didn’t apologize and I got madder. He refused to apologize, so I got right in his face. He then said, “What are you going to do, hit me?” He then called me a very unkind word that I don’t like to be called. It begins with an “A”, ends with an “E” and has a “hole” in the middle.

At that point, I was fuming. Security guards came into the press room and broke us up. Two seconds later, Tony walks over and broke me up again.

“Don’t worry, Jim,” Causi said. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll take him out.”

He then winked at me and made a gun gesture with his hand and index finger. Tony instantly turned my anger into laughter.

That was Tony Causi. He made others laugh while providing the Post with a ton of back page and front page quality shots. I marveled at his talents. He was a maestro and the athletes were his orchestra. Because I’ve stopped covering major events, I lost contact with Tony. I certainly didn’t run into him often. The last time, I believe, was at Giants training camp last August.

Tony was only 48 years old. He had a wife and two very young kids. I hope they can remember their father or capture his brilliance in his pictures. He also will be sorely missed.

My last tribute to a COVID-19 casualty is for the late Bob Williams. Although Bob was 79 years old, he still officiated high school and youth soccer matches all over the state.  He had more energy and excitement than anyone I knew that age. He didn’t act like he was approaching 80. He acted more like he was coming up on 50.

Bob certainly loved the sport of soccer. He was a season ticket holder for the New York Red Bulls at Red Bull Arena in Harrison and loved going to those games. He was a diehard fan of Tottenham Hotspur in the British Premier League and always asked me if I knew about the latest acquisition “the Spurs” signed. I thought he was talking about Tim Duncan.

Bob and I talked many times over the years about life and our difficulties living. He was nice enough to come and see me perform in a play with the West Hudson Actor’s Theatre (or WHAT) on perhaps the coldest February night known to mankind.

Bob and I had a major disagreement in January, one that I thought was going to be the end of our friendship after seven years. A fellow member of our group called me from Florida to see if I could patch things up. As a favor to my friend in Florida, I went out of my way to approach Bob. Before I could utter a word, Bob had his hand out to me, apologizing, saying he was wrong and would never do anything like that again.

Less than two months later, Bob contracted the coronavirus and died 10 days after being admitted to the hospital.

I’m glad that we ended on a positive note, but it doesn’t mean that I won’t miss his guidance, his personality, his intelligence and his zest for life. It’s so totally irreplaceable. There was only one Bob Williams – and I know that there are hundreds of people in the state and all over the country that feel the same way. He also will be sorely missed.

It’s truly a tumultuous time in our country, with almost 3,000 dead in New Jersey and 30,000 dead across the country. I just wanted to pay tribute to four personal friends, three of whom died because of the horrific pandemic. Rest in peace Raye and Rich and Tony and Bob. It’s amazing to think all four of you are gone so quickly.