Margaret Petrella

Friends may visit at the funeral home on Monday June 15 from 4pm to 7pm. A prayer service will be held at 6:30pm

Entombment will be held on Tuesday June 16 at Rosewood Mausoleum in Ferncliff Cemetery Hartsdale, NY (anticipated 12 noon arrival)

Joe’s “Rita!” has taken her final trip. She was born Margaret Ann Frattellone on August 16, 1935 to Philip and Isabella (Sanchirico) Frattellone, “Whitey and Bella,” at Fordham hospital in the Bronx, two blocks from her favorite stomping grounds, Arthur Avenue. Rita’s mom worked full time in a sweatshop, while her dad was a glazier, leaving Rita with her beloved Grandma Anna, unless she was out playing ball in the lot next door, riding her bike, or roller skating on Hoffman Street. A force to be reckoned with from day one, she was the apple of her father’s eye. When Rita was nine her only child status was upended by the birth of her sisters Ann, and quickly thereafter, Marie.

As a teenager Rita was a bit of a rebel. She enjoyed cutting school, smoking, hitchhiking to Orchard Beach, and on a dare sitting on a strange boy’s lap at a basketball game. That boy turned out to be the love of her life. Rita married Joseph Petrella, in 1954. They were young, had the hots for each other, and that’s what people did back then. They had no idea what they were doing, so Joe joined the army and dragged Rita to Tacoma, Washington, where he was stationed. They lived off base, and it was Rita’s first opportunity to do what she loved most, cook for a crowd. Every weekend, fellow soldiers from Joe’s unit went to Sunday dinner to feast on Rita’s Italian fare. In between meals, Joe and Rita made their first baby, Phyllis.

After Joe’s discharge from the army, the little family returned to the Bronx. Rita was thrilled to be back on her home turf and would brag for the rest of her life that she was a Bronx girl through and through. By the time Rita was 25 years old, she and Joe added two more children to the family, Eugene, then Rose. At that point, more space was needed for the family, so Joe and Rita bought a house in another Italian section of the Bronx. This was also around the time that the pill became available and Rita learned to drive. While Joe went back to college, and worked multiple jobs, Rita was a homemaker, including all the home maintenance on their little house: plumbing, painting, repairing, and electric. Rita was in fact taking care of two homes, because they had also partnered with Joe’s family buying property in a remote rural town, Cochecton Center, NY where Rita spent her summers with the kids and her in-laws.

Rita was tireless, a devoted wife and mother. She was a girl scout leader, joined the PTA, volunteered at her kids’ school, and even did childcare for some of Joe’s colleagues, but was always standing at the stove cooking dinner when her children got home from school. As Joe advanced in his career, Rita was truly the wind beneath his wings. Even with all of this going on, Joe and Rita made time to make another baby, Joey, ten years after Rose. The warnings about the dangers of the pill precipitated this joyous event.

As Joe’s salary increased, so did their social life and travels. Joe and Rita enjoyed Broadway shows, concerts, cruises, and multiple trips to five out of the seven continents. They could also now afford a house in the suburbs and moved out of the Bronx into a spacious house in Hartsdale.

Once the four kids were grown, Rita dipped her toe into feminism, became Margaret, and got a job! She was very proud and respected in her role as a receptionist and the go-to-gal for a large medical consortium. Rita, now Margaret, would still regularly drive to Aurthur Avenue, buy the ingredients and host large dinner parties for Joe’s colleagues and friends, cooking for everybody as usual. People still talk about her lasagna, sausage bread, cream puffs, lemon cookies, apple pies, “dadalls” and struffoli.

When Margaret’s beloved Joe passed on, they had been married almost 67 years.

Her’s is a story hard to capture with mere words. It was a rags to riches tale with many bumps along the way. She overcame hardships, never complained, chose to stay in the shadows, yet left an indelible mark on every life she touched. This Rita turned Margaret had a quiet strength and as she always said, “street smarts.” She made all the people that she loved better. She showed her love by feeding us in so many ways.

Margaret is survived by her children: Phyllis Rosato and her husband Thomas, Eugene Petrella and his wife Maria, Rose Petrella-Wilson and her husband Brian, Joey Petrella Wall and her husband William. She also leaves behind her sister Anna, brother-in-law Carmine as well as fourteen grandchildren and twelve great grandchildren.

In lieu of flowers, donations to World Central Kitchen are appreciated, because she always wanted to cook for everybody.