Long before the world knew him as Tony Soprano, James Gandolfini was just “Jimmy” from Park Ridge: a lanky,

over-six-foot teenager voted “best looking” and “biggest flirt” in his 1979

high school class. Friends recall a “happy, cute little boy”

with quiet confidence, a smile that “felt like the sun was shining,”

and an easy charm that made girls and guys gravitate toward him.

His parents worked modest jobs, and he studied theater while juggling academics

and activities, slowly discovering a talent that would change his life.

Inspired in part by seeing John Travolta’s photos on the wall of Travolta’s

father’s tire shop, Gandolfini chased acting with the same humility

he carried from home. Years later, as he collected Emmys and a Golden Globe,

he still described himself as a “260‑pound Woody Allen,” uncomfortable with fame,

devoted to people first. In death, as in life, he’s remembered not just as a

legend, but as a gentle soul who never stopped being that Jersey kid with the disarming grin.