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Memories that don’t fade
I never knew any of my grandparents, but I was fortunate enough to know my great-uncle, who was my grandfather’s brother. My grandfather, Alfonso, arrived with his brother Francesco in New York around 1900. The brothers were born in Cava de’ Tirrini, a city in the Campagna region of southern Italy. The brothers didn’t take to American life; one example would be never really learning English.
My grandfather Alfonso died soon after the Depression, and his brother Francesco became my surrogate grandpa. Zio “Cheech,” as we called him along with Grandpa. He lived in Corona, New York, lived to be 86, and died in 1964, when I was ten. My memories are fading with age. However, I do vividly recall his basement in Corona. The walls were decked with the Sunday comics from The Daily News, “Terry and the Pirates, and “Gasoline Alley.” The old guy never understood the text of the comics; he loved the colors, and they were everywhere.
He had a modest garden of tomatoes, herbs, peaches and grape vines. He also made his own wine. One memory I will always remember was his smell; he smoked DiNapli cigars, short smokes we called “Guinea Stinkers,” and he wore the same old, grey sweater.
My parents would visit every Sunday for dinner in Corona. As soon as we arrived, he took me down to the cellar. I was the youngest and clearly his favorite. He showed me the latest edition of Sunday comics, and he always smiled. Then he’d sit me down and pour me some home-made wine. I was eight back then. He would slice a piece of peach and put it in our wine glasses. The wine was so strong in alcohol that it had to be cut with the sweetness of the peach. The “Godfather” scene at the end depicts Cheech in a tee, peach, and gray sweater.
He would serve wine in Flintstone jelly jars. I had a serious crush on Wilma until I was twelve.
What I would give for one more visit down his cellar, drinking wine and smelling those nasty cigars.
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5 Replies
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Great memories like these is what I call wealth where nobody can take them away from you.
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Got lotsa equity, Bruce
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Those were the great times in life. I remember when I was nine years old, my father finally got his green card through his job and my mom, sister, and baby brother immigrated to Chicago, Illinois from Buenos Aeries, Argentina. Enrolled in third grade at Hibbard School in Chicago’s Albany Park Neighborhood. They got me a Korean intrepreter since I looked Korean but I talked back in Spanish. Everyone was scratching their heads and thinking WTF is this? Remember, going along job interviews with my mom and father whenever they were called so I can write their application and sit along during their interview. Remember going to parent teacher conferences to intrepret for my folks. Those were the good old days. Life is supposed to get better as time pass with the new generation. What’s going on today? Sex operation changes for 9 year olds? Transgenders wanting equal rights versus mental illness help? Transgenders participating in high school and college sports? Viagra commercials on national TV? Creation of deadly diseases and virus for poltical benefit? Depopulation campaigns by the far left liberals and globalists? Stock market getting manipulated? Cheating during elections with dead people casting ballots? Can go on and one.
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And you are not done earning more equity, Peter. Me too.
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Just think I can vote after death, I’d probably be a Democrat voter.