Pedro Moreno, a Fixture in Sag Harbor, Dies at 64

Pedro Moreno hung out so often at the old Conca D’Oro pizzeria in Sag Harbor that after a while he just blended into the background, and you didn’t notice him standing there, leaning against the counter, a New York Yankees cap on his head and a backpack resting at his feet.

The same was true of his other haunts around the village — Goldberg’s, Sagtown Coffee, the Sag Harbor Laundrette, or the John Jermain Memorial Library — where he could be found regularly, if not exactly like clockwork.

Pedro, who died Sunday, January 29, at the age of 64, could be described as having fallen through the cracks just because he experienced homelessness for long stretches, hadn’t held a regular job in years, and alternated between sobriety and drinking binges.

But in reality, Pedro — nobody ever called him by his last name — was supported by a largely invisible web of locals, from business owners to police officers, who kept an eye out for his well-being.

Perhaps the most prominent of them was Frankie Venesina, whose family ran Conca D’Oro for years. After selling the business in 2017, Venesina made it a point to check in on Pedro almost every day after dropping his sons off at school.

“He was family to me,” said Venesina, who met Pedro about 30 years ago.

It was Venesina, along with two of Pedro’s other friends, Jenny Doud, the manager of the Corner Bar, and Carrie Garypie, who works for the Sag Harbor Village Building Department, who drove to the Suffolk County medical examiner’s office in Hauppauge on Monday, where Venesina identified his body.

Pedro had been found on Long Island Avenue in front of Choppin’ Charlie’s barbershop a little after 8 p.m. on Sunday, suffering from “a medical emergency,” according to Sag Harbor Police Chief Austin J. McGuire. He was taken to Stony Brook Southampton Hospital, where friends said he was pronounced dead after having suffered a massive heart attack.

Before the medical examiner’s office would agree to release the body, it told Venesina it would first make an effort to locate his next of kin.

Venesina said that will probably prove difficult. “He never spoke about his family,” he said. “I used to ask him, but he never really wanted to talk about it, so I left him alone.”

This much is known: Pedro was born in Cuba on September 3, 1958, and moved to Miami with his family when he was an infant. He was apparently on his own by the time he decided to move to eastern Long Island in 1980. He lived for a few years in Springs before moving to another rental in Noyac.

“He was a great painter,” said David Falkowski, owner of Open Minded Organics, who also knew Pedro for years. “He would go in, he was neat and tidy, and he made something look nice quick.”

But Pedro also drank. “He was such a sweet man and so nice — when he wasn’t drinking,” Falkowski said.

Eventually, Pedro found himself out on the street, or searching for temporary lodging wherever he could. “He had all his little spots,” Falkowski said. “He probably knew more about the nooks and crannies in this village than any village employee, including the police.”

In time, Pedro found himself living in a shed behind Conca D’Oro, where he created a serviceable living space out of plastic storage box lids, wood scraps and cardboard. The shed was out of view from the street, but everyone knew he lived there — and everyone pretty much left him alone, including village officials and the police.

The cops did pick him up from time to time, especially when it was too cold for him to sleep outside. Sometimes, they’d charge him with disorderly conduct and give him a warm cell in which to sleep it off before dismissing the charges the next day.

Venesina said he would try to find him odd jobs to do at Conca D’Oro or at his own house. He said just last week was looking for him to do some painting at his new pizzeria, Slice, on Shelter Island.

On cold nights, he would let Pedro sleep in his house, as did several other people around the village. Some, including Falkowski, provided him with other accommodations. Friends said some business owners intentionally left their buildings unlocked so he could have a safe place to spend the night.

“We’d sit up and talk,” Venesina said of those times when Pedro stayed with him. “He loved sports, but he also loved watching classic movies and reading.”

“Pedro was exceedingly intelligent and well-versed about world events,” said Doud. “It was almost like he was a savant.”

Catherine Creedon, the former director of the John Jermain Memorial Library, said of Pedro: “He knew more about movies, especially foreign films, than anyone I’ve ever met, and his suggestions brought diversity and discovery to our DVD collection. His regular use of the library helped me to rethink our operations, including hours and the types of ID required to get a library card.”

Pedro had a reputation for being a great soccer player. Venesina said he had played on a semi-pro team when he lived in Miami. After moving to the East End, he played in a number of weekend leagues through the 1990s.

“He was a very good player. He lived for the game,” said John Czeladko, who works for the South Ferry and played both against and with Pedro. “He had great ball control. He liked to dribble. That’s what he loved to do. When he was playing on the other team, we knew he liked to hold the ball a little longer and that gave us a chance to get back on defense. He was good — and he was the nicest guy on the team.”

Venesina said Pedro typically started his day at Java Nation, which later became Sagtown, where he met a group of regulars for coffee, or at Goldberg’s, where he sometimes did odd jobs in exchange for breakfast.

Brianna Ottati, a real estate agent with Douglas Elliman, who used to live in the village, said she would see him most mornings sitting on the wall in front of Matriark, a women’s boutique on Main Street. “He was one of the first people I met in Sag Harbor,” she said.

Pedro was fond of her dog, Ellie, a pit bull mix, and often he would invite her to sit down and chat. “He always knew if I was having a bad day,” she said.

He often could be found under the Lance Corporal Jordan C. Haerter Veterans Memorial Bridge, where he enjoyed fishing, Venesina said.

Ottati also remembered seeing Pedro at John Steinbeck Waterfront Park, lying in the midday sun, his cap over his face.