Jesse got home from Boulder yesterday so we celebrated with a bottle of Francis Ford Coppola’s delicious (but headache-inducing) pinot noir. There was a time when we weren’t that picky about our vintners, but for the past few years we have been loyal to Coppola’s brand. The reason is there is a rumor that the filmmaker lives in our neighborhood.
Friends I respect have told me “it’s true” and local journalists from Rockford Register Star and Townsquare Media have written and spoken on the record about the movie mogul’s presence in Rockford. Even the Chicago Tribune published an opinion piece about it.
“…Francis Ford Coppola has been spotted in Rockford a lot lately and is reportedly eyeing property along its spectacular and underwhelming riverfront. Yes, it is both. Coppola is working on a project there. It is a place of intrigue.”
Kristen McQueary, Chicago Tribune, December 10, 2018.
Jesse and I have gotten on our feet and tried to figure out which house could be his. This is a small city; it shouldn’t be that hard but we haven’t figured it out.
We haven’t figured it out because the rumor is just that: a rumor. I am going on the record and saying that Francis Ford Coppola does not live in Rockford and he doesn’t own property here. I’m not convinced he has even visited because I’ve never seen photographic evidence or real proof from a reliable source.
But my husband and I enjoy giddily indulging in the academy award winner’s wine while acting out our favorite scenes from The Godfather. Jesse’s partial to the Marlon Brando “You come to me on the day of my daughter’s wedding” scene but I love the Talia Shire “Michael! You lousy bastard! You killed my husband!” scene. Her character’s name is Connie, something that fills me with ridiculous glee. This is how we party in Rockford in February.
Thank you for reading my blog! I’m headed to the medicine cabinet so I can take an aspirin for this headache. See you tomorrow. -Connie
Connie Kuntz 