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Tag Archives: family history
He was my brother, and the country of childhood was a tangled one, fraught with discord and shadowed by mystery. Dangers loomed, whether real or imagined, and tranquil moments could not entirely be trusted, for they were as delicate as … Continue reading
In the course of doing research about our family history, my brother recently managed to locate some relatives who sent him the above photograph of our great-grandmother. Her maiden name was Filomena Rossi. She was born in Italy, and came … Continue reading
When I was a little girl, about four or five years old, my father went away on a trip to Florida. I only vaguely understood the purpose of the trip, but it was related to the construction or remodeling of … Continue reading
We went on a road trip with our friends Kit and Beverly and spent two nights in a pair of Airstream trailers. The one Monte and I stayed in was like a tin can, its interior metal walls left mostly bare except for … Continue reading
My father aspired to be a doctor. I still have in my possession a letter from St. Francis College outlining the requirements for a pre-med course of study, sent in response to his hopeful inquiry. The 1920s were drawing to … Continue reading
Shortly after the end of World War II, one of my grandfather’s brothers sent a letter to him describing impoverished conditions in Southern Italy and asking if my grandfather would send a decent pair of shoes for his daughter Rosaria. My grandfather had … Continue reading
Out of it all—came this moment for the soldier. The moment that in a sense was silly and yet sublime. That made him want to giggle but also to expostulate, this delicately balanced instant between the birth of a hysterical … Continue reading
This post is connected to yesterday’s blog of holiday reflections prompted by a photograph from 1962. I also shared the picture on Facebook, and two of my siblings commented. The sister who was a toddler in my father’s lap in that photo was obviously too … Continue reading
This photograph was taken in December of 1962, and my only clue that it was the Christmas season is the decorated tree behind us, a scrawny thing, but it represents an effort. (I note that there are even a few wrapped presents at the … Continue reading