A Tribute to Tony Pizza by Mike Bruno
In 1979, I had the good fortune of securing an intern position in the office of the Lucas County Prosecuting Attorney. It was a part-time job, while I was attending night law school at the University of Toledo.
In my lifetime, there have only been three different elected prosecutors: Harry Friberg, Anthony Pizza and our current prosecutor, Julia Bates. This sort of stability is rare and not unlike the head coaching position with the Pittsburgh Steelers.
I left the intern position in 1980 when I was hired as a bailiff to Judge Glasser in Common Pleas Court. 3 years later I passed the bar exam and secured a position as assistant prosecutor in the Lucas County Prosecutor’s office until May of 1989, when I went into private practice.
Each of the three elected prosecutors touched me in different ways. Harry Friberg was long retired by the time I got hired in 1983. He spent winters in Florida and returned to the courthouse in the spring and summer. He kept busy in his office with new technology: a personal computer. He was the first lawyer observed by me to use a computer, and he was 81 years of age.
In the early 1980s, I watched Julia Bates work some high-profile cases in Judge Glasser’s courtroom. She was as driven as she was smooth. She then continued to prosecute cases ultimately assuming the role of elected prosecutor. She has ushered the prosecutor’s office into the 21st century, while maintaining the competency and professionalism of the Friberg and Pizza terms.
When I was hired to work as an assistant prosecutor, Anthony Pizza was in charge as Lucas County Prosecutor.
He was born in Toledo in 1921. He graduated from Libbey High School, where he played varsity football and was the class salutatorian.
He joined the U.S. Army Air Corps and served as a Navigator Second Lieutenant in the Pacific theatre, during World War II.
After the war, he graduated from Kenyon College and earned his Juris Doctorate from the University of Toledo College of Law in 1950.
Harry Friberg offered Tony a position in the Lucas County Prosecutor’s. He accepted and worked there for the next 45 years. Anthony Pizza was appointed to serve as prosecutor in 1976, and thereafter ran undefeated for the elected office until his retirement.
During his 20-year stint as Lucas County Prosecutor, Tony Pizza expanded the office from 10 assistant prosecutors to 50 and increased the number of felony cases tried from 600 to 3,000.
Many of the young lawyers he employed and mentored during his tenure as County Prosecutor, became judges and distinguished attorneys. His legacy of leadership earned him the nickname “Maker of Judges”.
Over his career, he demonstrated exceptional legal acumen, arguing six cases before the United States Supreme Court.
Beyond criminal law, Mr. Pizza was a passionate advocate for public causes. In 1991, he successfully litigated in U.S. District Court to prevent the State of Michigan from constructing a hazardous waste facility that would have threatened Northwest Ohio’s waterways. He also helped launch the Crime Stopper program, and the Toledo-Lucas County Victim Witness Assistance Program.
Tony retired in 1996 and was succeeded by Julia Bates as Lucas County Prosecutor. In his Toledo Blade obituary, she said, “He was a hero. He was a tremendous mentor. He was a fierce fighter of crime… His legacy will survive as one of greatness, an advocate of victims, and truly a scholar of law.”
The Bruno and Pizza families go way back. In fact, they both emigrated here from Southern Italy in the early 20th century to escape economic despair. When my grandmother (Nonna) went to the hospital to give birth to her first child. It was Tony’s mom, Philomena, who stayed with her at the hospital. In those days, Mother and child were kept for 2 weeks!
Tony was the favorite child among the moms in the Italian American community. Even as an adult, I noticed how Tony would interact with my grandma and great aunt, among others, at Italian picnics and Christmas parties. He was a people-pleaser, and he used those skills to his advantage in the political arena.
By the time I joined the prosecutor’s office, Tony had been the boss for almost 7 years. I was 26 and he was in his early ’60s, so I called him “Mr. Pizza”. Within the office, he would sometimes call me “Dom”, my father’s name. I didn’t correct him. It was close enough to the mark.
As a prosecutor, Tony Pizza was not a difficult boss. He was more like a grandfather to me in the 1980s. He delegated supervisory responsibilities to his chief assistants. The criminal division chief then was Jim Bates, my immediate supervisor.
Of course, when things needed smoothing out, Tony was there. He was a master when it came to dealing with the police department, community leaders and the press. When trials reached the boiling point, you could count on Tony Pizza to reduce the tension and bring the parties together.
Tony Pizza was in his element among large gatherings, weddings, and funerals come to mind. My own wedding mass was typical. It was the spring of 1983 at Gesu Church in Toledo. A large church with a good amount of congregants. Or as Tony viewed them, constituents. After the ceremony, Renee and I walked down the aisle to our receiving line, which included our parents, bridesmaids, and groomsmen. Yet, before the attendees could reach the receiving line, there stood Tony, greeting everyone with a warm handshake. That was Tony Pizza.
Some of Tony’s habits have stayed with me to this day. At lunchtime he would take a walk downtown to perhaps enjoy some fresh air and briefly escape the hustle and bustle. I’ve been known to go out to stretch my legs after lunch, but, with cell phones, it’s harder to unplug.
I also tried to emulate Tony when greeting people. When Tony Pizza greeted you, he not only shook your hand, but maintained eye contact. He gave the impression that he was listening and interested in what you had to say, with his genuine warmth and empathy, Tony Pizza was that rare man who touched a great number of people and across diverse socioeconomic paths.
This Tony Pizza tribute would not be complete without mentioning Madeline, Tony’s wife of 63 years. They were married in 1944. She was his Rock, often at his side during countless
fundraisers and gatherings. She was the picture of quiet Elegance. They were truly a match made in heaven.
