By the time Neil was born, the backbreaking work of cutting stone had become too difficult for the aging Nunziato, and the family business had shifted entirely to flowers. Neils mother Nikki, who went to forestry school, eventually took over the business and still lives in a small house behind the shop, in which she designs arrangements for christenings, funerals and every occasion in between.
The phrase "say it with flowers" is normally associated with a gift-giving idea. But for the Gioia family, the history of Woodside can truly be told in the carnations, marigolds and geraniums that have filled their flower shop on Roosevelt Avenue for 75 years.
"People used to have their own gardens, so they would come out in droves to buy plants," recalls Nikki Gioia, 83, who was born on a farm across the street from where her fathers business, Nunziato Florists, still stands today. "My father grew the plants in a greenhouse on the farm, and I used to help him out as a kid," said the family matriarch.
Her father, Aneillo Nunziato, a stonecutter from Naples, Italy, came to Woodside around the turn of the Twentieth Century and began carving headstones for nearby Calvary Cemetery. His wife made floral arrangements for the grave plots. "People used to come over the 59th Street Bridge on horse and carriage, stop and get flowers here, and then go on to the cemetery," said Neil Gioia, 51, who helps his mother run the store along with his five brothers.
"Its a family thing, so everyone comes in and helps and says Hello," said Neil. His siblings take turns caring for the plants, selling, making deliveries and taking orders. "Theres tradition here, and satisfaction, but you have to be prepared to work seven days a week, with no holidays to yourself. But were used to it."
The hard work has paid off, considering Nunziato Florists remarkable longevity in a sea of strip malls and fast food chains. And as a result of the shops fixed presence, Neil Gioia has seen the neighborhood change over the years. "When I was a kid, there were still a lot of woods around here where you could build a treehouse. It wasnt rural, but it was very suburban," he said. The City eventually bought up the farms in the area and paved them over with roads, pushing the family business farther and farther back from its original greenhouse.
The biggest change to come to Woodside was the #7 subway, which brought new residents to the area, and drowns out conversation in the stores outdoor nursery every five minutes. "It used to be Irish and German, and now its a league of all nations," said Neil, noting proudly that his family now makes flower arrangements for the Spanish and Korean churches in the area.
The changes in Woodside havent only been ethnic. "Memorial Day used to be a huge holiday," he said. "People bought flags and flowers and took them over to the cemetery. Now its just an excuse for people to go away for a long weekend."
Perhaps respect for the fallen has become ingrained in the Gioias after so many decades of arranging funeral wreaths. Their compassion is evident both in the nursery, where there are two silk flower wreaths in red, white and blue, and in their service to Engine Company 325 down the street, a firehouse that sustained heavy losses on Sept. 11.
"It was terrible," said Neil Gioia. "So many people wanted to send sympathy arrangements and fruit baskets, and you couldnt tell people no." With airports shut down in the days after the attacks, the Gioias couldnt get their flowers, which are mostly imported by air from South America and Holland. The flowers arrived eventually, and the family rushed to fill orders for funerals. "It was very depressing," said Neil, but it felt good to help.
The Gioias have not only born witness to the history of Woodside, but theyve helped to shape it. Nikki Gioias niece, Lucy Nunziato, recently retired from her post as executive vice president of the Queens Chamber of Commerce.
City Councilman Eric Gioia, 29, is Neils son, and said that Nunziato Florists serves as a second district office. "My grandma will call me and say things like, Mrs. Walsh came into the store today and said that a tree needs pruning on 50 St. So Ill send a truck over. Its like a town hall."
Councilman Gioia and his sister, an advertising executive, have struck their own career paths instead of becoming florists. "I am allergic to flowers, so it was Gods way of making me do something else," he quipped. Still, there is the question of succession, to which Neil Gioia responds by looking straight at his mother Nikki. "It looks like well be here a long time. Its in the genes."