June 13: Everybody's Aunt and Uncle

Today's post is a reminder that every leaf on every branch of a family tree is dependent on the others. I am co-authoring today with my cousin, Kurt, whose shared pictures and story are gifts I will always treasure! 

I'll start with my Aunt Anne, fifth born, in my Dad's family who grew up to be my Dad's teacher in the one-room schoolhouse on their farm. At one point my dad and a friend tried to skip school for fishing. Clearly that does not work out when your teacher is at the dinner table asking how you are! Yet, I cannot tell the story of Aunt Anne without Uncle Bill as they were iconic in Montgomery, NY.  In addition to being a teacher in a one room schoolhouse and later in the local public school, she was for many years in between, the Postmaster!  As the only family branch that stayed local, their home, always open to everyone. was the the site of frequent family visitors! 

I cannot talk about Aunt Anne without talking about Uncle Bill, one of a kind. He could fix anything (I mean anything) and knew, was related to, or was owed money by many people in the area and was as honest as they day was long! One time, he showed up at our trailer home with an early television he had repaired. It was about 3'X3' and our living/eating area was 6'X8' but my dad was so excited, our first television stayed with its 8" diameter screen to offer the Yankees and Howdy Doody Time.

Aunt Anne and Uncle Bill were Godparents to a bevy of nieces and nephews (including me) and friends in part because everybody knew they were the kind of people who loved with their whole hearts. They were everybody's generous and kind aunt and uncle. (pictures with cousin Kurt's children)

Kurt shared this wonderful story that really sums up the gregarious and generous people they were. One time, my grandmother came to visit and was up early making coffee when there was a knock on the door. She assumed it was a friend of her grandson, Billy, and asked the stranger if she wanted coffee and then they shared breakfast while everyone else was still upstairs! When Uncle Bill came downstairs, Grandma got him coffee and our Uncle Bill, who could talk to anyone about anything, assumed the girl was the granddaughter of one of Grandma's friends. They, too, had a nice breakfast together before he headed off to the barn while the young girl headed into the kitchen to do dishes. As she was heading downstairs, Aunt Anne heard Uncle Bill say, "Have a nice day," and could smell the fresh pot of coffee available to her! She assumed the you lady was a relative of Uncle Bill and they shared coffee. Billy came down and assumed his mother knew the girl and headed off to basketball practice! Mid-morning, the girl indicated she had things to do and thanked grandma for breakfast.

During dinner, Billy asked about the girl who had made him breakfast and they realized they all treated the perfect stranger as if she were a friend. Friendly, open, gracious pretty much sums up this family which is a reminder, to me, to live and serve with an open heart.

(Aunt Anne and Uncle Bill on the left at my cousin Kurt's wedding)

                                                                                         (With a smoke!) 

June 12: Jer

 

His mother kept a 12X18 version of the picture (left) in a place of honor all of her days leading some to call this image of my baby brother, Chairman Mao (no disrespect to the real guy). He was, according to my mother, pretty much a perfect child who rarely, if ever, made mistakes. Even if he wasn't really perfect, he "rocked the boat" far less than his older sisters! 

Jeremiah III was born in Nyack, NY, a nine-pounder who grew into a 6"8" adult!  He had at least six residences before graduating from HS in Yorktown Heights where he ultimately put down roots. 

Growing up, he inherited collies, Floppy and then JJ, who were faithful companions. During HS, he lived with me one summer and attended RPI offering a chance to know him in a unique way. I can still hear him singing, "Don't it make my brown eyes blue." in the shower as I drifted to sleep. Even before graduating from HS, he was the proud uncle of his first niece, Minnie, (left and below), the first of a bevy of children who adored him. 

He followed his HS sweetheart, Patricia, to Cornell and married her before completing law school at Pace (He was in the class just ahead of RFK Jr and they both had a focus on environmental law). While he and Tricia were not lucky enough to have children of their own, they were generous with time and talents to their nieces and nephews. My own children worked at their family farm making doughnuts and cutting Christas trees. One time, he secured two tickets to an NBA playoff game in the late '90's (I think it was Jordan's last game!) leaving me to choose which of my children would get to go! Another time, he passed on his beloved Cornell-Columbia game to stand in the bitter cold (with his parents!) at a Cortica Jug game where his nephew was playing!

Jer had minimal interest in playing basketball, but loved skiing, tennis, and golf. He did all of them with his dad over the years. 

Sadly, Jer's lifeline was shortened by cancer, devastating family, colleagues, and friends. I often think of him and wonder how life would have been different if he had been granted more time on earth.  I also wonder what one-liner he would add to all the stressful situations!  He was an Abe Lincoln fan who often quoted “The best way to destroy an enemy is to make him a friend,”  in dealing with family and local politics! His years were shortened but well lived as Lincoln said, " And in the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years.

(Jer and Tricia's wedding, me wrangling my son)

June 11: Kitty

Sometimes, people become family even when the bloodlines have not merged. Kitty embraced me as member of her family even before marriage and taught me about love and tenacity.

Caterina, was born and bred in Brooklyn and raised by her single mother from her preschool years.  Her only brother, still a baby when their father passed, went into the Foundling Home and she learned to cook, clean and keep the home fires burning (literally as well as figuratively) from her earliest of memories. 

She was fortunate to actually graduate from high school in NYC, a rarity for girls of her time who typically left early for marriage or jobs.  For all her days, she was proud of her prowess with French and math! She changed her legal name to the more American sounding Catherine and began as an operator with NY Telephone, a career she continued until retirement years later after moving to Poughkeepsie. 

Kitty, to friends, married and moved to the Bronx where she raised three sons before heading to the country when her oldest two sons were establishing lives as her youngest began school. As a survivor of the Depression, Kitty was always careful with money; however, she liked nice things and enjoyed a bargain more than anyone I have ever met. Sales at Macy's and a clearance rack at Marshalls were regular haunts for all of her day. When I was a new mom with a new mortgage making do, she would encourage me to, "Buy yourself a little something because nobody knows what makes you happy like you do!"  Kitty also had a soft spot for little girls in patent leather shoes and my daughter, her last granddaughter even had a pair of red shoes thanks to her careful watching of those sale racks! 

Kitty passed many years ago when my own children were still very young (picture above with her youngest grandchild) ; yet, her piles of farfellette sprinkled with M&Ms and her ready in a minute fritattas are memories that have been maintained through stories and living examples.  

Kitty had retired from a long career outside the home and was already an established mother-in-law and a grandmother when marriage brought me into her circle. I learned many life lessons from her words and examples, such as her vow to never judge parenting or life decisions and her promise, when we moved close, "My house is always open to you any time you are in the area, no need to call!  But I will always call before I come to your home as a sign of respect for you and the many challenges of raising a young family and working outside the home!" I was blessed to have known her and still take her words seriously. 

June 10: A Strong Woman Among Strong Women

In addition to The Aunts who lived together throughout their lives,  three other sisters survived childhood without electricity and running water, a feat in itself in those days. (Gert, Jo, Helen and Mary, left, I think)   

Aunt Jo (Josephine) was the shortest of the sisterhood is stature, but not in personality or persistence.  She was considered a bit of a tomboy in those days and appreciated the opportunity to avoid some of the many indoor chores in favor of chicken coop or garden duties. She was also a smart cookie (my term), valedictorian of her class and really wanted the opportunity to attend college that was not afforded to her either for reasons I could speculate but will never understand. I wonder, now, if there was a little bit of her seething inside when the farm was sold a few years later so her baby brother could attend university? I also wonder if my dad, especially as he had daughters and grew more sensitive to gender matters felt a bit of guilt? Those were days when gender discrimination, even in families who valued education, mattered! 

Jo did trade school in nearby Newburgh before heading off into the city, with sisters, supporting herself and parlaying her independence and strength into a career that would serve her for a lifetime where she would intimately land married and raising a family in that far away state of Florida (picture left outside her Florida home; below with husband, Ken)  Her independent streak as well as her strength served her well. 

Aunties Jo did visit the family annually offering my cousins, Kurt and Linda, an different relationship with The Aunts as well as her sister Helen, on Long Island and Aunt Anne who lived all of their days in the old hometown of Montgomery.

One summer, (left) Aunt Jo and her children even spent part of the summer with my family (after we had a house) offering us all a chance to develop a lasting relationship. My Dad took my cousin, Kurt, to a Yankee Stadium game as well as on a rocking and rolling open water fishing trip that were lasting memories for both, and supported a bond after my Aunt Jo passed away.  I count My cousin Kurt among my closest relatives and friends, and his contributions of memories and pictures has helped shaped this memory trip. 

As I look at this image of many of them gathered I think in Long Island, I see lots of strong women holding the family together!  

(Top row Aunt Jo, next row,

Aunt Lora, Aunt Helen, Aunt Gert holding cousin Sean, bottom row, Aunt Mary holding cousin Kurt and cousin Linda)

 

SOL26: June 9: Piles of Love

It's Tuesday and I am sharing a little slice of life. Lately, I've been pouring over and writing about old family photos like this image of a lonely house with a snow-stopping driveway!. This photo journey, like this image, dredges up wonderful memories and brings tears at the same time. This picture took me down memory lane to the messy, imperfect, and priceless celebration of family.

"It's special," the brand new husband offered as I joined his family's celebration with a brand new toboggan for the kids on the car's roof. We came back, year after year, with babies, toddlers, and college kids, for that special experience.

"You're finally here," Vince would tease as we arrived 5 minutes after the designated time. We put offerings under the tree and listened to who was still on their way as we placed our shrimp platter on the table. "One down, six to go," he laughed as that shrimp disappeared and he poured his brother a glass of wine in the same breath. 

Garlic infused mussles filled the air as predictably as children grew from toddlers to teens and then parents, while their Grandparents became memories. There were years when we all had packages to wrap, toys to assemble and over-stimulated children; but, we never thought about it until after the dishes were washed and the 12 Days sung. Trays of cookies would emerge from under beds and disappear as if sugar and garlic were partners.

I am not sure I ever thanked Vince and Barbara adequately for hosting this event; yet, I am grateful we came through snow, sleet and sometimes freezing rain to join. their feast. I am pretty sure they knew it was special not just because of the magical food and memorable singing, but because the holiday was infused with love and a promise that family-love, fish and sweets can offer. 

We could not have imagined it would come to an end; yet, like every single wonderful, stressful and challenging chapter of life, it ended leaving a puddle of memories and a reminder to make new ones.

Memories

We gathered like lemmings, 

In the snow, realizing, without

Saying, the real gift was love, time,

Learning to seize the moment.

 

June 8: Love and Marriage

"

My life began on June 25th," she told doctors 50 years later as well as anyone in earshot. 

Natalie was 13 or 14, he was 5 years older, when she met my dad at a roller rink where he was working; she was smitten from the start (her words). She waited, not so patiently, until she was 19 and my dad fulfilled his college dreams before earning her Mrs. It was a wedding that not everyone was thrilled about, and only one of my father's sisters and my mom's parents attended. During the early days of their marriage, my dad continued to travel as an engineering consultant and my mom lived with her sister in NYC. 

Their early years involved lots of not-so-glamorous traveling from job to job in our trusty trailer, pulled behind our Ford!  We lived in tight quarters in trailer parks, along with other nomadic families, until we were a family of 5 and I was 8! My Dad's civil engineering career focused on water systems but his passion was environmental preservation (think Rachel Carson's Silent Spring)

My Mom's focus was on creating a spotless home, perfect pie crusts, and the ideal family. (We were far from perfect! BTW the cute kid sitting near the trailer was me!)

My sister, Kathleen, arrived 2.5 years after me, and while we were wanted and loved, life was complete when my brother, Jeremiah III arrived! The Aunts even made a mid-week pilgrimage to the country to visit the miracle through the hospital window! He was cute and all that, and his arrival altered family dynamics and my mother's status for some of the family!  Fortunately, he turned out to be a great brother who seemed to roll with the punches in spite of his status!  

My parents in later years with me!

June 7: The Aunts

They were known collectively as "The Aunts," in spite of distinct personalities as in "We are going to visit The Aunts." 

Loretta, or Lora, (in the middle) the oldest of my Dad's sisters, taught briefly in their one-room schoolhouse after completing New Paltz Normal School. She left the post to her little sister, Anne, and headed to a career in the NYS Taxation Department in Albany, a bold move for a single woman of her era, It wasn't long before she found herself living the single-career-woman life in the big city and wormed her way to the top in her male-dominated field. While she never married, she had had an active social life. As a child. I visited once, twice a year for the afternoon. One of my great memories is that Aunt Lora meticulously collected and saved articles about and Daily News collectibles about the Beatles during their debut years!  She also took me into Manhattan, on the subway once, to buy a blue, shirtwaist dress, like the ones she always wore, at Macy's. 

Three of the sisters, Josephine, Helen, and Gert, left the farm and headed, at least for a while, to her Brooklyn apartment where there were opportunities beyond Montgomery. Mary, the fourth born and second oldest sister, (pictured below with my grandmother outside my Aunt Anne's house) stayed on the farm until it was sold and then, moved with my Grandmother to Lora's apartment in Brooklyn. Grandma had been raised in the city, but Mary left her heart in the country. In time, she found a job where she worked until becoming my Grandmother's caregiver. I am pretty sure I never saw her without her sisters and that she never had her own bedroom. 

For many years, Lora, Mary and Gert shared an apartment and lives in Brooklyn, at one point lived on top of the old Ebbet's Field, where their beloved Brooklyn Dodges played before leaving for CA. After my Grandmother Anna passed, they retired to Florida for just a few years, near their oldest brother, George. 

The ninth born, youngest, and tallest of the sisters, Gert, worked for many years in banks across the city and Long Island. She was the "driver" and proud car owner whose wheels allowed them trips to the country and to visit family. After her sisters had both passed away, she moved into the condo next door to my parents, a move that ultimately allowed me to get to know her and support her in her last years. Interestingly, her life was derailed by the mother of a beau who felt her faith was an insurmountable deterrent. He was ultimately lost in WWII.  Some of my greatest memories of Gert are her requested pink bedroom in that condo and her 42-inch television to watch her beloved Yankees on ESPN. Until the very end, she watched the Days of Our Lives and completed crossword puzzles with passion. 

                                                       Aunt Gert with her 1979 Chevy, 
                                                    40,000 miles and nearly 40 years later

June 6: Montgomery Roots

Day 6 of old family pictures and stories is from the paternal side of my tree, edited* from an earlier edition, Thanks to my cousin, Kurt, for helping to clarify details. 

Jeremiah, raised on a farm in Montgomery, NY, fell head over heals for a girl from Manhattan who spent the summer recovering from serious illness in the country.  At one point, he even tried, briefly, life in the big city; ultimately, he wooed her back to the country and life on the farm. He passed before I was born, but from this one picture, he appeared short of statue, but somehow reproduced some six-footers! 

Milk for Manhattan was big business and while they were not wealthy, there was plenty of food for the ten children who would arrive like clockwork every other year. There was no electricity until my dad, the youngest, was in high school and Roosevelt's Rural Electric Act spurred such development.

Their first two boys, George and Philip, were already off to the Army and University when my father, Jeremiah Jr., arrived after a string of seven sisters and I suspect my grandfather was encouraged by the potential of someone to carry on the farm. The oldest sister, Loretta, was off at college and another sister, Ester, passed away just few weeks before my dad was born; I suspect that may have also helped earn his favored status in the household among the older sisters still at home, Mary, Anne, Josephine, Helen, and Gertrude.                                          

 

I found a few treasured photos that left me in awe of the fortitude and resilience of raising such a brood without running water! "Family lore" suggests their alfalfa fed cows produced milk that was valued  bringing top pennies even in the Depression. 

                                                                                                                  

I think, Baby Jerry, Helen and Gert

I think Little Jerry in the front, 

Back row, Anne, Mary, middle row

Josephine and Gertrude

It appears someone saw the potential of learning? They even built the local one room school right on their property (another story) It appears that most of the children were encouraged to attend college or trade school of some sort, but as in large families, the resources may have been strained at times, especially after my grandfather developed cancer.  My dad helped run the farm, even in high school, but it was sold shortly after his dad's passing so my dad could fulfill his dream of engineering. 

The house burned to the ground in the 50s, but my cousin remembers visiting with our Aunts and seeing "their farmhouse" along with the "new" owners. 

I have no memories of Montgomery other than visiting my Aunt Anne who stayed in the area, but I do sometimes wonder what adventures we cousins would have had if our family track had a different direction. That is a another story, or two!

                                                                          A sketch of the farmhouse from my Dad many years later. 

June 5: Immigrant Roots

I am writing about old family photos this month.  This is probably my oldest family picture.

Like those before and after him, Pasquale came to America in search of something, better, different, or perhaps adventure. Yet, he was not the usual late 1800 immigrant in that he could read and write both was both English and Italian when he arrived from his home village near Calabria. I have no idea how his skills were learned in a era where school often took a back seat to survival; yet, they served him well when he made his way from NYC to the Catskill Valley, and settled along the Delaware Rover in a small farming village close to the the Delaware Railroad.

Based on local history, Margaretsville was already a thriving farming and trading hub with general stores, mills, and stagecoach stops when he arrived in the late 1800s. In time, he became a shop owner who also translated messages and made sure the written word was understood. 

Maria, Pasquale's wife and my Great Grandmother, passed shortly after their only child was born leaving him the doting father of a daughter whose life was filled with books, educational opportunities, and more photographs than her peers. At some point, he did remarry a woman who appeared to have been active in the Suffragette movement.

He passed before I was born, and I never really heard much about him from relatives deeply scarred by the Depression and consumed with living in the moment. Yet, the bits and pieces that I do know suggest he was influenced by reading and thinking beyond the scope of many in his times. 

                                            Great Grandfather and his pride and joy, 

                                                       my Grandmother, 1915 ish

Great-Grandpa

In my imagination, he was a teacher, or

Son of a business-person, adventurous,

With curiosity, questions, enough money to 

Fund an America adventure, 

Ahead of his time, considering

Women as valuable,

Capable of more than sauce, 

Encouraged learning, voting, 

College, wearing pants, 

Bobbing hair, thinking 

Outside the box,  

In my dreams. 

                                                    

June 4 Carpe Diem

This month, I am taking a walk down the complex and intersection ridden Memory Lane of old family photos thanks to a push from my blogging friend, Kim Johnson, Common Threads. 

We woke up in a college dorm at Cornell University where they let guests stay before graduation. I guess there were not enough local hotels available, but I really am not sure. We showered in a giant shower room along with other female relatives and friends of graduates. I tried to quickly shower my very pregnant self, keeping my talkative and curious two-year old tucked into a corner shower area. 

Yet, she overlooked the wide load right in front of her to comment on the many other body shapes and sizes scattered around the room. I am pretty sure I scooped her slithery body up as fast as I could when she asked me why people were so fat? Fortunately, she slept through the long, hot speeches and graduation rituals where my baby brother and his soon to be wife earned life-long Big Red status. My dad was thrilled to finally have another engineer in the family. I suspect  my mom was happy her baby, Jeremiah III, would be back at home, at least for a short while. 

I am glad we celebrated that day, as schools, work, moves, and family pressures would impact and separate us all in the days and years to come. When I reflect on the photo of my nuclear family, I see loss of people I loved, through death or by choice. Only remnants, my sister, my daughter, and me, remain. I am sure that someone said something about Carpe Diem either that day or at some graduation speech somewhere! It is a wise message to graduates and their families.

Carpe Diem

Celebrate moments

You will have the memories

Moments of joy, love.