Schaumburg native finds focus in Hollywood

Paolo Cascio didn't want anyone to know he had been homeless.

"The reason I didn't was that I was ashamed," he said. "The thing that haunted me was that, what if, by sharing my story, I was able to inspire somebody to move forwards to follow their dreams?

"I realized I couldn't be selfish. God pulled me through this situation and carried me so I could tell my story. I must tell it, and not hide it."

This is Paolo Cascio's story.

It's about a Schaumburg kid who grew up terrified to read because he couldn't understand the words.

In junior high, he attended remedial classes because officials thought he might have a learning disorder.

In 1981, he barely escaped from Schaumburg High School with a 2.0 grade point average. He failed the Constitution exam three times.

Prison changed all of that.

Alcatraz.

"I was 16 and on spring break with my parents in San Francisco," Cascio said. "We went to visit Alcatraz."

There, a movie camera crew had set up for a shoot. The moment that Casio spotted a Panavision camera, his world shifted.

"I found myself at that very moment," he said. "Something inside me just turned on. It hit me like a bolt of lightning. It's like when you see somebody and it's love at first sight? It was just like that. I knew in that moment that this was what I was meant to do. I wanted to be behind that camera and shooting a movie."

Cascio attended Harper College in Palatine for a while, until a friend told him about a magical place where students train to become filmmakers: Chicago's Columbia College.

"I had been reading American Cinematographer magazine since I was 16," Cascio said. "So when I went to Columbia, I was already up to speed. More than that."

How up to speed? A 4.0 grade point average.

Young Cascio had found his niche.

He became an assistant to faculty member Jack Whitehead, who had worked on Laurence Olivier's "Hamlet" and Alfred Hitchcock's "The 39 Steps." Cascio also assisted accomplished Chicago-born cinematographer and faculty member Michael Goi, who was instrumental in getting Cascio his first job.

Cascio began racking up credits on small productions. He worked on Oprah Winfrey's "Brewster Place."

"Oprah was a very, very amazing woman," Cascio said. "One day, Alex Haley, the author of 'Roots,' came by. For the next 45 minutes, Alex Haley gave us a fireside chat about the power of the industry we work in.

"(Haley said) you needed to pick your job, because what you do defines who you are. If you're doing projects that take you down a path that isn't who you are, isn't something you believe in, you're hurting yourself.

"I was like, 'Thank you, Oprah, for giving us the opportunity to hear this man speak!' because I had turned down three movies before my situation. I didn't believe in them. I decided to hold out rather than sell out. It cost me huge amount financially."

Which brings us to how Cascio became homeless.

On Sept. 15, 2008, he gave up his apartment. He planned to work on a Tyler Perry movie and a Chicago project. Four months worth of work.

"I thought, hey, I'll give up my apartment," Cascio said. "I'm going to be out of town for four months and I can save a lot of money."

The Tyler Perry project got pushed back and the Chicago project was canceled.

"It was a really scary time for a lot of people and I was thankful I just had me to take care of. No family to be responsible for," Cascio said.

If he had taken any of three earlier job offers, none of this would have happened.

"I didn't believe in them," he said. "It was a huge risk, but I was willing to step out on faith. But I believe in myself and I believe in what I do."

For six weeks, he lived at "Hotel Honda." He joked to people that it had only one room, but a great ocean view.

When a job opportunity came along, his fortunes changed. And ever since, Cascio has been building a list of accomplishments that has made him a sought after commodity in the industry.

On Sept. 13, Cascio accepted an Emerging Cinematographer Award in the DGA Auditorium in Hollywood.

His parents, Ignatius and Shirley, flew out from their Schaumburg home on Slingerland Avenue to witness their son be honored for his talents.

"I've had a blessed career," said the 46-year-old cinematographer. "And I feel like I'm just starting."