STATEN ISLAND, N.Y.—On a frigid February morning, when Staten Island’s air nipped at the skin and the sidewalks crackled with ice, the Todt Hill Friendship Club held steady at a toasty 85 degrees. About 50 seniors and staff moved through the building like a warm current—a serious-faced card game in one room, an intense pool match in another. In the main recreation hall, a full-blown festival was underway with painting, singing, dancing, and laughter. Every doorway offered a different pocket of camaraderie and pure happiness—and running through all of it was food.
Pink-frosted cupcakes sat beside an ice-water station. In the kitchen, another engine hummed toward lunchtime.
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A Day Inside the Todt Hill Friendship ClubPamela Silvestri
A mission built over 43 years
The Friendship Club—officially the Todt Hill Friendship Club Older Adult Center—has been operating for 43 years. It’s one of five centers on Staten Island run by Staten Island Community Services. Open to adults 60 and older, the clubs work to combat isolation, offer nutritious meals, and provide a safe, social environment for older New Yorkers. Funded by the NYC Department of Aging, they serve daily meals and offer case management, health screenings, and cultural programming for those who need extra support.
The mornings are filled with mahjong, line-dancing and a visit from guests like the Wagner College student nurses. (Advance/SILive.com | Pamela Silvestri)
And on this Wednesday, the place was running on full energy.
They celebrate everything here—Groundhog Day, Ramadan, Lunar New Year, Black History Month, birthdays, a super bingo, a murder mystery, stained‑glass workshops, tech talks, belly dancing, pickleball, and ballroom and line dancing—plus pop‑ins from Wagner College student nurses. Caseworkers and nutritionists move through the halls, while a bereavement group and a book club offer quieter moments. Family Feud showdowns, on the other hand, qualify as a quiet riot. Every corner of the place is abuzz.
Marie Bertone has been coming to the club for years as a volunteer. Now, she joins each day alongside friends. (Advance/SILive.com | Pamela Silvestri)A center powered by people
At the center of it all is manager Maria Anselmo, moving from table to table while her staff coordinate Access-A-Ride pickups and the day’s entertainment—Moonlight Productions, DJ Joe, anyone who knows the line-dance-friendly tunes. She keeps the place running with a mix of precision and warmth. Volunteers are always welcome; she can be reached at todthill@friendship.nyc or 718‑698‑7979.
Anselmo oversees the daily swirl: Wii bowling, mahjong, music and memory games, constant movement and line-dancing with Rod Del Rosario. Activities can straight into sing‑alongs.
And then there’s 89-year-old Marie Bertone, who glides through the Friendship Club with bright, sparkling blue eyes, peony-pink lipstick, and a purple ensemble she chose specifically for her day here. She’s been part of the Friendship Club for years, first as a volunteer and now as a regular, where she finds structure, laughter, and a room full of people who know her name before she even sits down.
Marie’s social life doesn’t stop at the club’s doors. When she’s not here, she’s out with her family at Bella Vita in Dongan Hills or Corrado’s Cucina in Greenridge. She keeps a standing date with her longtime card group at Lorenzo’s at the Hilton Garden Inn, where she greets owners Lois and Richard Nicotra like old friends. Marie moves through Staten Island with the ease of someone who’s spent a lifetime building relationships. The Friendship Club is one of the places lucky enough to catch her.
In the middle of all this motion—and all this borough‑wide connectedness—is the kitchen. Chef John Cascio works quietly with a crew of three in a space that runs like an engine room. A Staten Island native and veteran of institutional food‑service operations, Cascio and his team turn out two meals a day—breakfast at 8:30, lunch at noon. Wednesday’s was fajitas.
All stand for the Pledge of Allegiance. (Advance/SILive.com | Pamela Silvestri)A moment of reflection
As usual, before lunch, everyone stood for the Pledge of Allegiance and sang “My Country ’Tis of Thee,” voices rising over the clatter of chairs and the shuffle of feet.
What grounds this place isn’t just the meals or the music—it’s the routine of being together. No TVs blaring, no noise competing for attention. Strong fingers work the diamond art and beaded jewelry, people sitting side by side in easy focus. The loudest it gets, Anselmo says flatly, is karaoke.
On this Wednesday, Wagner nursing students were in the building, taking blood pressure and vitals and earning applause from the crowd. Their instructor, a nurse practitioner of 26 years, addressed both her students and the seniors with warmth and humor, praising the club’s energy and promising to return. One student, Mike—also in the Army Reserves—drew a cheer when he mentioned his service. The room erupted again when Steven Gross called out a summary of the Michael Ollis award.
And for a group that listens closely during daily current‑events discussions and reads the newspaper pretty much together, that’s where the day’s ebullience met something deeper.
Staten Island knows the name Staff Sgt. Michael H. Ollis—a New Dorp native who, in 2013, placed himself between a suicide bomber and a Polish allied officer during an attack on Forward Operating Base Ghazni in Afghanistan. He absorbed the full force of the blast, sacrificing his life. Witnesses say his actions saved not only that officer, but more than 40 military and civilian personnel on the base.
More than 12 years later, the nation is preparing to award him the Medal of Honor—the highest military decoration—after years of advocacy from his family, veterans’ groups, elected officials, and the Staten Island community. His parents, Robert and Linda, said in the Advance/SILive.com the announcement brought a sense of closure. “We’ve been hoping for it for a long time,” Linda said. “We’re overjoyed.”
Inside the Friendship Club, the news wasn’t just a headline. It was a reminder—voiced by seniors in the room—that the freedoms they enjoy in this warm, bustling place were earned by people like him. The right to gather. To dance. To mark every holiday. To age in community. And every day before lunch, as part of the routine, they recite the Pledge of Allegiance with gusto, followed by a patriotic song at the piano.
So, as DJ Joe pumped up the beat and the chef prepped peppers and onions for Fajita Day, people took to their feet. Someone grabbed the mic and announced with great ceremony that someone from the Staten Island Advance was in the house. The room cheered, entirely unfazed. This was just another Wednesday in a place where celebration is the default setting. And a good, hot meal would be waiting at noon sharp. What else would you expect?