At 91, troubadour creates Old World ambiance at Tamaqua restaurant

Oct. 9—TAMAQUA — Judging from the music, the dining room at La Dolce Casa-DiMaggio's might have been a café at Place Pigalle in Paris or Piazza Navona in Rome.

In a black beret and striped polo, sporting a thin mustache, the house accordion player lent a European flavor to the packed dining room on a recent Saturday night.

Louis "Luigi" Belovich serenaded diners with a repertoire that included "That's Amore" and "C'est Si Bon," enhancing the restaurant's Old World ambiance.

At 91 years old, the last troubadour of sorts, he continues a tradition set down by vaudevillians and street musicians.

Largely self-taught, Luigi has been playing accordion for 70 years.

A crowd favorite on Friday and Saturday nights, the Coaldale performer has become as much a part of the restaurant as its signature Tuscany lasagna and shrimp scampi.

"We love him," said Alfonso "Alfi" DiMaggio, 51, the restaurant owner. "He has been with us for about 13 years."

Romantic balladeer

Luigi was around 20 years old when his sister brought an accordion from New York to the family's home in Allentown in the early 1950s.

Intrigued by the instrument's sound, he began taking lessons at the former Titlow's Music Store on Hanover Avenue.

It wasn't long, maybe a year or so, until Luigi stopped lessons and started performing.

Installing drywall by day, he spent nights playing at Pasta Bella, Carmine's and the Alpine Villa restaurants in Allentown. He also did gigs in the Poconos.

Unlike the upbeat, bouncy tenor of accordionists in polka bands or the showmanship of Lawrence Welk's Myron Floren, Luigi adopted a softer style built around romantic ballads like Bing Crosby's "Let Me Call You Sweetheart," Perry Como's "I Wonder Who's Kissing Her Now" and Dean Martin's "Arrivederci Roma."

When 9-year-old Ann Forster, of Allentown, recently dropped a bill in his tip jar, Luigi played a song and challenged her to name it.

Turns out, Ann recognized "Bella Notte" from "Lady And The Tramp."

Ann was with her parents, Scott and Cynthia, and 12-year-old brother, Scott, who were celebrating dad's 48th birthday. Grandparents Bruce and Patricia Householder were also at the table.

After he led the family in "Happy Birthday," as a birthday present he did the dad's favorite song, "New York, New York."

The Forsters confided that Luigi had played at their wedding 15 years ago.

"We were married right here in the banquet room," said Cynthia, a reading specialist in a Lehigh Valley school district. "He's amazing. We love his style."

It's tributes like Cynthia's that nurture the energy that keeps Luigi going long after others might have quit.

"I think God wants all of us to use the talents he gave us," he said, crediting his Croatian parents with instilling his strong work ethic.

"It gives me a good feeling when people come to see me and say I made beautiful music," he said. "That's better than getting tips in the jar."

What will be

Luigi knows he's no youngster.

The old bones aren't what they used to be.

Lugging a 20-pound accordion around can get awfully tiring awfully fast. Of late, he mostly sits while performing.

Luigi loses sensation in his left hand, the one that plays the bass buttons, and has to take a break every now and then.

"I'm wondering," he confides, "when it will get to be too much."

Still, he has no immediate plans to give up performing.

His music is his passion, it's what keeps him young of heart.

"Somehow, I've got to keep going, I can't give it up," he said. "When you retire, you give up life, in a sense."

Perhaps Luigi's philosophy is best summed up in one of his favorite songs, Doris Day's "Que Sera, Sera" — whatever will be, will be.

Contact the writer: rdevlin@republicanherald.com; 570-628-6007