Because Bono Cares for the constituents in CA 50th District "FIRST"
A Clear Vision for a Stronger Community
All About Bono
Hello to my friends, neighbors, my veterans world-wide.
This is my Story, & I’m sticking to it!I was born in a farming community in Staunton, Illinois, my father Peter Bono Sr. Worked in the coal mines close to our farm. My mother , Eunice Mae (Blume) Bono, stayed at the farm, raising four children, Joan Margaret, Jean Marie, Peter Joseph Dominic Bono Jr, Mark Louis Bono. Our family was quite poor, my father, had a garden planted in our front yard, it was my mothers job, to pick the vegetables, to provide food for us kids. My mother also had the task, of feeding the livestock, and of course, the chickens, ducks, geese, and we had a nanny goat.After my grandfather passed away, from the BLACK LUNG Disease, from working at the coal mines for nearly 50 years.My father decided to find different employment. He traveled 45 miles to East St. Louis, Illinois. To seek employment. After a few days, going to different places, he was denied any employment because he was Italian. Italians couldn’t be trusted because of the stigma that Al Capone placed on Italians., that all Italians were Gangsters.Finally, my father applied for a job at Swift & Company, at the St. Louis National Stockyards. In 1957, my father and mother saved enough money to purchase a house, in East St. Louis, Illinois.East St. Louis, at that time was segregated, the Afro American Citizens lived in the downtown area up to 69th street, from 70th street to 89th street only, Italians and some Irish, and German Citizens resided in that area of town. No Asian Citizens were allowed to live in town.Unfortunately we lived on 63rd street. All we had were Afro-American neighbors. Me being a little squirt around 6-7 years of age, I usually got along with my neighbors.I attended grade school, in a predominantly (white school). This caused me hardships, because after school, i was never allowed to bring my school friends home to play.I would routinely be picked out by the Afro American friends, I would get beaten up, every week, I would have to give up my nickel lunch money to those ruffians. At one point the ruffians even took my clothing. So after living in that sort of environment, my father decided to re-locate and purchased a property in a small community, called Fairview Heights, Illinois.
Living here, in a predominantly (white) neighborhood,was supposed to be a better environment to raise their children. I assisted my father with building a 3 bedroom, 1 bathroom, single family home. It took my father three years to build this house. I remember carrying those heavy concrete blocks to make the foundation for our house, plus the cement mixing in the wheel barrow.In 1963, our dream house was completed, we finally was able to live quite comfortably. I started the six grade at St. Alberts the Great School. The school was located about a mile from or home.I thought by going to this grade school, I would be in a better environment, but it wasn’t. Once the area school children discovered that I came from East St. Louis, that I was lower than Scum. The local school kids abused me, beat me up, again stealing my dime for lunch money. Everyday after school, the bigger kids that were the ruffians, would give me a five minute head start, to run home. The ruffians would generally catch up to me,when I was half way to my house, they would humiliate me, telling to kneel in front of them, to praise them as my God.My father who was angered by the treatment at school, reported the problem to the Principal, the ruffians were punished by their parents, but the abuse continued, threatening me with more black eyes and bloody noses, if I reported them again.My father then taught me how to fight back, daily he would take me to the backyard, and after several months of training, I became a pretty good fighter. One day after school, I challenged the biggest ruffian to a fight. We went behind the school house, drawing a big crowd of kids, I beat the crap out of him, literally had him crying and saying “please don’t hit me any more.” After that episode, the kids called me “Bono the Terrible.” None of the school kids bothered me any more.Starting High School, I was enrolled at Assumption High School, in East St. Louis.
Living here, in a predominantly (white) neighborhood,was supposed to be a better environment to raise their children. I assisted my father with building a 3 bedroom, 1 bathroom, single family home. It took my father three years to build this house. I remember carrying those heavy concrete blocks to make the foundation for our house, plus the cement mixing in the wheel barrow.In 1963, our dream house was completed, we finally was able to live quite comfortably. I started the six grade at St. Alberts the Great School. The school was located about a mile from or home.I thought by going to this grade school, I would be in a better environment, but it wasn’t. Once the area school children discovered that I came from East St. Louis, that I was lower than Scum. The local school kids abused me, beat me up, again stealing my dime for lunch money. Everyday after school, the bigger kids that were the ruffians, would give me a five minute head start, to run home. The ruffians would generally catch up to me,when I was half way to my house, they would humiliate me, telling to kneel in front of them, to praise them as my God.My father who was angered by the treatment at school, reported the problem to the Principal, the ruffians were punished by their parents, but the abuse continued, threatening me with more black eyes and bloody noses, if I reported them again.My father then taught me how to fight back, daily he would take me to the backyard, and after several months of training, I became a pretty good fighter. One day after school, I challenged the biggest ruffian to a fight. We went behind the school house, drawing a big crowd of kids, I beat the crap out of him, literally had him crying and saying “please don’t hit me any more.” After that episode, the kids called me “Bono the Terrible.” None of the school kids bothered me any more.Starting High School, I was enrolled at Assumption High School, in East St. Louis.