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Michael Bevers/O’Collegian OSU electrician Mike Vitone’s apartment is filled with a drum set rather than typical furniture. Vitone spends afternoons playing the drums and other instruments. | Courtesy photo Vitone poses with musician Woody Guthrie’s son, Arlo Guthrie, whose hits include “Alice’s Restaurant” and “Last Train.” |
Jenny Redden
Staff Writer, ocolly.com
By 5 p.m., most of the OSU community has abandoned the hallowed halls of campus, retiring to dorms, roommates or families.
Not Mike Vitone.
He stays behind to turn off the lights that faculty, staff and students have forgotten.
He works from 4 p.m. to 12:30 a.m., some nights turning off as many as 5,000 lights.
Steve Cookerly, the electrical manager at the Physical Plant and Vitone’s supervisor, said the university’s savings are many-fold thanks to Vitone’s efforts.
“It’s not just the electricity; it’s not just that cost,” Cookerly said. “The lights actually produce heat. That heat raises air-conditioning costs during warm weather.
Furthermore, Cookerly said Vitone is able to increase public awareness about energy conservation by talking to people on his route.
But that’s all work. In his free time, Vitone enjoys music. He lives in an on-campus apartment with his wife, Cathe.
An uninviting sign on their door reads “Day Sleeper. Do Not Disturb. This means you.”
But nothing inside the Vitone home is uninviting.
The front room lacks the staples of a conventional living room, such as a coffee table or recliner. Instead, a drum set occupies most of the space.
Signed photographs from notable bands — Cheap Trick, Quiet Riot and Chicago, to name a few — are proudly displayed, littering the room’s perimeter. A few relics from the Marines dot the walls as well.
The only proof inside the two-bedroom home that it’s campus housing is the unmistakable campus phone. Otherwise, colored lights in every corner make the humble apartment look like a stage fit for a rock star.
On a typical afternoon, visitors can find Vitone at the helm of his drums, pounding rhythms while he listens to tracks from some of rock’s best drummers — Led Zeppelin’s John Bonham or Santana’s Armando Peraza.
“It’s a great hobby, and sometimes I can close my eyes and really have some rhythm,” he said.
Music is more than a hobby for Vitone, 58. It is his passion.
“You close your eyes and if everything’s working out right ... you feel that,” he said. “You just feel it. You get goosebumps.”
Even in high school, music filled Vitone’s free time. He said he worked the night shift at a funeral home.
He drove the hearse, retrieving cadavers and delivering them to the morgue.
The job wasn’t all bad, though. He said the office had a nice sound system.
Vitone spent most of his nights there listening to his favorite musicians.
The job earned him the nickname “The Undertaker” by his friend Danny Seraphine, who grew up to be the drummer for the band Chicago.
“We were expelled (from high school) on the same day,” Vitone said. The reason was simple. “I slept too much, and he banged on the desk too much.”
After he was expelled, Vitone’s parents told him he needed to do something with his life. In 1967, during the height of the Vietnam War, Vitone joined the U.S. Marine Corps.
He said he joined because everybody else was leaving, going to Canada to dodge the draft. Plus, his father was a Marine.
But Vitone doesn’t talk much about the war now. “That was then.”
He did say he recently received a letter from the Marine Corps informing him that his nominations for a bronze star and a purple heart are under review. But a tattoo of the Marine bulldog mascot lingering on his right forearm is the only visual clue to his past.
When he returned from the war, he said music filled his life again.
Seraphine, then with Chicago, offered him a job as a stage manager at a new night club, B-Ginnings.
John Bracamontes, the club’s creator, said everybody liked Vitone, or “Mikey” as they called him.
“When I needed something, he was always there,” Bracamontes said. “Never had no complaints about him at all.”
Bracamontes confessed he was a “typical jerk boss.”
“I’d get mad at him and fire him, and he’d ignore me and go downstairs,” he said. “Then I’d call him up, and he’d do whatever I needed.”
From 1970 to 1980, Vitone worked for Bracamontes, setting the stage for scores of musicians, including AC-DC, Devo, Van Halen and Tom Petty.
Music has been a major influence in his life since. In fact, he said music saved his life.
“Danny (Seraphine), in a way, saved my life,” Vitone said. “A lot of vets were getting high. I would have been one of those weirdo vets, still back in the war wondering when they’re going to get blown up.”
Instead, Vitone put all his energy into what he loves most: music.
“And I’m grateful for that,” he said.
Not Mike Vitone.
He stays behind to turn off the lights that faculty, staff and students have forgotten.
He works from 4 p.m. to 12:30 a.m., some nights turning off as many as 5,000 lights.
Steve Cookerly, the electrical manager at the Physical Plant and Vitone’s supervisor, said the university’s savings are many-fold thanks to Vitone’s efforts.
“It’s not just the electricity; it’s not just that cost,” Cookerly said. “The lights actually produce heat. That heat raises air-conditioning costs during warm weather.
Furthermore, Cookerly said Vitone is able to increase public awareness about energy conservation by talking to people on his route.
But that’s all work. In his free time, Vitone enjoys music. He lives in an on-campus apartment with his wife, Cathe.
An uninviting sign on their door reads “Day Sleeper. Do Not Disturb. This means you.”
But nothing inside the Vitone home is uninviting.
The front room lacks the staples of a conventional living room, such as a coffee table or recliner. Instead, a drum set occupies most of the space.
Signed photographs from notable bands — Cheap Trick, Quiet Riot and Chicago, to name a few — are proudly displayed, littering the room’s perimeter. A few relics from the Marines dot the walls as well.
The only proof inside the two-bedroom home that it’s campus housing is the unmistakable campus phone. Otherwise, colored lights in every corner make the humble apartment look like a stage fit for a rock star.
On a typical afternoon, visitors can find Vitone at the helm of his drums, pounding rhythms while he listens to tracks from some of rock’s best drummers — Led Zeppelin’s John Bonham or Santana’s Armando Peraza.
“It’s a great hobby, and sometimes I can close my eyes and really have some rhythm,” he said.
Music is more than a hobby for Vitone, 58. It is his passion.
“You close your eyes and if everything’s working out right ... you feel that,” he said. “You just feel it. You get goosebumps.”
Even in high school, music filled Vitone’s free time. He said he worked the night shift at a funeral home.
He drove the hearse, retrieving cadavers and delivering them to the morgue.
The job wasn’t all bad, though. He said the office had a nice sound system.
Vitone spent most of his nights there listening to his favorite musicians.
The job earned him the nickname “The Undertaker” by his friend Danny Seraphine, who grew up to be the drummer for the band Chicago.
“We were expelled (from high school) on the same day,” Vitone said. The reason was simple. “I slept too much, and he banged on the desk too much.”
After he was expelled, Vitone’s parents told him he needed to do something with his life. In 1967, during the height of the Vietnam War, Vitone joined the U.S. Marine Corps.
He said he joined because everybody else was leaving, going to Canada to dodge the draft. Plus, his father was a Marine.
But Vitone doesn’t talk much about the war now. “That was then.”
He did say he recently received a letter from the Marine Corps informing him that his nominations for a bronze star and a purple heart are under review. But a tattoo of the Marine bulldog mascot lingering on his right forearm is the only visual clue to his past.
When he returned from the war, he said music filled his life again.
Seraphine, then with Chicago, offered him a job as a stage manager at a new night club, B-Ginnings.
John Bracamontes, the club’s creator, said everybody liked Vitone, or “Mikey” as they called him.
“When I needed something, he was always there,” Bracamontes said. “Never had no complaints about him at all.”
Bracamontes confessed he was a “typical jerk boss.”
“I’d get mad at him and fire him, and he’d ignore me and go downstairs,” he said. “Then I’d call him up, and he’d do whatever I needed.”
From 1970 to 1980, Vitone worked for Bracamontes, setting the stage for scores of musicians, including AC-DC, Devo, Van Halen and Tom Petty.
Music has been a major influence in his life since. In fact, he said music saved his life.
“Danny (Seraphine), in a way, saved my life,” Vitone said. “A lot of vets were getting high. I would have been one of those weirdo vets, still back in the war wondering when they’re going to get blown up.”
Instead, Vitone put all his energy into what he loves most: music.
“And I’m grateful for that,” he said.
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