88m-A Stitch in Time-EmilyAnn’s Memoir-The arrival of Janie J., 1959-1960

Introduction

I couldn’t sleep very well that night.  Mom and Dad had gone to Parent-Teacher night during the Autumn of 1959.  I worried that Mrs. Paul, my first grade teacher, would tell them that I liked to look out the window more than at the blackboard.  I longed to be outside rather than stuck inside the building for the three long hours before I went home for lunch.  Would Mom and Dad be mad when she told them that I once said I wished 1st grade was like Kindergarten?  Just a year before I’d only been in school for 3 hours each day.  The longer school day of 5 hours spent in the classroom was not something I enjoyed.

Dad’s Aunt Betty was babysitting that night.  When I heard Mom and Dad return I listened to them talking.  I could make out the words Mrs. Paul and teenagers many times.  I also heard Aunt Betty chuckling while my parents continued to talk in serious tones.  I wondered what was going on.  I’d  never given any thoughts to teenagers until I started noticing the teens in 7th and 8th grade leaving P.S. 201 each day at 3:00 p.m.  I was sitting on the creaky second step of the stairway.  Dad told me to stop hiding and come on down.  He added that I had nothing to worry about.  He and Mom had heard from Mrs. Paul that the sight of some of the junior high school students attending P.S. 201 scared me. 

Mom and Dad encouraged me to tell them why I did not want to leave the classroom at 3 o’clock.  They explained that Mom could not come upstairs to walk me out of the building.  I was growing up and had to learn how to leave at the right time with the other students.  What could possibly be so upsetting about the teenagers leaving the school? 

I had told Aunt Betty before bedtime all my worries on this subject.  She was not helpful and did not take it very seriously.  She was as calm as always.  All she said was that a I was a member of the bigger family my Dad was from.  They didn’t worry about things like that.  They were strong.  At almost 6 years of age that did not reassure or inspire me. 

What I remember of this night never left me.  I realized my parents were more in touch with our neighborhood and that the influence of Dad’s older relatives like Aunt Betty was not always helpful.  Dad’s Aunts and Uncles in the Terry family were a highly sociable, interactive group that loved being out and about. They had great pride in the family name but rarely could explain why or where that pride came from.  On that night Aunt Betty no longer felt close to me.  She became very old in my eyes and not very helpful. My parents had often spoken about the differences between teenagers on the block who were responsible and going in a good direction.  Then there were others who imitated the rebel boys or fast, hard talking girls popular in the movies and pop culture.  Mom and Dad often said they hoped such teens woke up before they made a mess of their youth and maybe adult years as well.

I turned away from Aunt Betty and looked only towards my Mom and Dad.  I sat down and started to tell them what scared me and why I did not want to wait so long for Mom to pick me up at school each weekday afternoon.

88l-EmilyAnn’s Memoir-A Stitch in Time-First Grade, 1959-Arithmetic, Reading, Writing and unending questions

Introduction

Do you remember the time you were learning how to read?  When was the first time you felt confidence with recognizing a word and were able to read it on your own?  How about reading aloud for your parents, siblings or relatives?  By the Spring semester of First Grade in 1960, I was making progress in reading, writing and arithmetic and often devoting time to play activities that developed these skills rather than to watching TV all weekend.  I spent one Saturday with my Auntie Maureen that I still recall since it was the first time I felt, deep down, that I really was doing more than memorizing words in class.  I not only recognized a word on sight but thanks to being around my Auntie Maureen, who loved word jumbles and crossword puzzles, I started making different words with one word I had just made on the Scrabble board.  My Aunt had taken out the game board and letters for Scrabble to keep me busy.  I was told to make words and arrange them on the board.  It took some time to find all the letters, but I finally had “STOP”.   After showing Aunt Maureen, I then changed the letters to create “SPOT”.  Aunt Maureen could not resist showing me another word “TOPS”.  She then created “POST” and told me that when I got a little older we could play a full game of Scrabble.  My Auntie then insisted that I had to pay attention right now, though, to learning correct spelling, as well as do all my reading and writing homework correctly.  I was so excited I looked forward to sharing my new skills with my first-grade teacher, Mrs. Paul, when I went back to school on Monday. 

Grandma Josie engaged me in a similar manner when I spent afternoons with her.  She made me count aloud as she was cooking, asking me how many forks, knives or spoons she had used so far.  She also taught me that there were different ways to label how many of something she was using for the dish she was making.  Carrots came in bunches.  Lettuce was called a head.  More often I had to write my numbers on ruled yellow pads she had around the house while sitting in the kitchen of the apartment on 65th Street.  While my Grandmother hung clothes on the line in the courtyard or called across the way to a neighbor, I was absorbed in what she told me was a tape measure.  I had to look at it and identify the numbers.  Grandma Josie explained to me that tape measures and rulers were important tools for sewing.  They were as important as drawing straight lines, neat circles and well-defined squares and triangles.  My practice sessions with her now included marking off straight lines of 1″, 2″ or however many inches she told me using the ruler.  I still had to learn what all the little lines between the numbers meant but for now I was making progress, she said.  To keep me busy, she took whatever old trims and hem tapes she had from the shop and asked me to cut them into 2″, 3″ or 4″ lengths.  Sometimes they went all the way up to 12″ lengths.

Mom and Dad also engaged me in activities that got me to sit still and think, even if it was for a short time.  Mom opened her coin purse and would ask me to count all the coins.  Then Dad would ask me to differentiate between pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters.  I had to stack them and count how many of each were in each stack.

First grade had not started so happily.  The first six weeks or so provided so many things for me to complain about and get annoyed with that I never envisioned the happy days and times together that I have just shared in this introduction.  My dissatisfaction with first grade accelerated with the reader “Ted and Sally”.  The wall I was putting up between myself and that reader was taken down thanks to the patience and perseverance of my teacher Mrs. Paul.  She never gave up on her students.  This story will show how she finally won me over with something she said.  Something so simple but that gave me so much to think about and much later, so much to look forward to.

Relationship notes

Emily Leatrice Serrapede was EmilyAnn’s mother and Sammy’s sister.  Emily’s husband, Frank Jesse Terry* was the son of Al and Blanche Terry.  He had 3 younger siblings:  Alfred, Robert Edward and Maureen. 

Josie and Sam Serrapede were Emily’s parents.  Josie was like Mom #2 to EmilyAnn since she was very easy to relate to and was very in-tune with her interests.  After WWII, Josie returned to the workforce full-time as a sewing machine operator.  She worked in a shop located on 14th Avenue near the 62nd Street elevated line.  Her specialty was woman’s clothing and her expertise was in making blouses.

Maureen was EmilyAnn’s paternal Aunt and Baptismal Godmother.  Maureen was very close to all her nieces and nephews.  She and her husband Alex wanted, but could not have children of their own.  Around 1957 Maureen contracted the mumps.  After recovery she learned that the illness left her infertile.

Mrs. Paul was EmilyAnn’s 1st grade teacher.  She was a well-disciplined woman who carried herself with great confidence.  Mrs. Paul had a steady presence in the classroom.  She dressed on most days in the style of a businesswoman:  slim skirts, tailored jackets and blouses with a bow or fancy collar.  The impression that remains with EmilyAnn to this day is that of a woman with light brown hair that was turning silvery.  She was dressed in a grey tailored suit and walked methodically up and down the aisles in the classroom watching the children practice their penmanship or read their lessons.

EmilyAnn’s Memoir:  Who will write their stories?

I did not enjoy the experience that was the 1st grade classroom during the beginning of the Autumn 1959 term.  Gone were the little tables of the kindergarten classroom where students faced each other in a fashion similar to sitting around the kitchen table at home during meal time.  Here in first grade each student had their own desk facing the front of the classroom.  We no longer looked at each other or sat in a fashion that reminded me of home.  Because my surname began with a “T” I sat in the last row near the window.  I took some comfort in looking out the window when I was not looking at the clock above the blackboard at the front of the room.  The days in school were now 6 hours long.  We got one hour for lunch during which time, Mom came to pick me up and take me home for 45 minutes before we went back to school.  That still did not stop me from complaining to her.  I wanted to stay home and take a nap. 

There were other things I went on and on about, too, when I came home from school.  On the first day we each had to stand up when our name was called and say a few words to our new teacher and our classmates.  I had never hesitated to speak or stand up in front of family.  I enjoyed being in the spotlight, as Dad told me.  But that was family, a place and group of people I felt safe and loved in.  At school that all changed.  I felt very cold and very small when it came my time to stand up and introduce myself. I had watched the boys, seated in the rows of desks running from the entrance of the room towards the middle of it, speak their names with ease.  There were several boys that had the same names like John and Michael.  Our teacher, Mrs. Paul asked boys with the same name if they would like to be called a variation of that name.  One of the boys named John could be called Johnnie in class.  The boys didn’t seem to care and there was little disagreement.  Often Mrs. Paul made the decision as to which Michael became Mikey and which James became Jimmy.

88k-EmilyAnn’s Memoir-A Stitch in Time-Tiny Betsy and the Button Jar

Note: Continued from posting 88j-A Stitch in Time-EmilyAnn’s Memoir-Endings and Beginnings, 1958

Introduction

Patty and I looked out the front window of the sunporch watching the housewives and their children start their Saturday morning activities.  Some walked down the block with their shopping carts.  Others swept their front stoops filled with the dry, brittle autumn leaves.  I wasn’t really interested in what anyone was doing.  I was more interested in their reactions at seeing Patty looking out with me.

It was chilly in the sunporch and Mom called out to me not to stay there too long.  The cold didn’t bother me.  I was too excited by the buzz Patty created around me.  I was now 6 years old.  Patty Playpal was a doll as tall as a 3 year old.  I loved brushing her hair and showing her off.  I daydreamed about what it would be like to have a 3-year-old sister.  Would she sneak upstairs to keep me company after Mom had banished me to my room?  Or would she play up to Mom and say I annoyed her, too? 

Patty Playpal was a big seller among dolls that were manufactured and came to market in the late 1950s.  She was the exact size of a 3-year-old girl and had the ability to walk when you held her hands and guided her along the way.  I didn’t think of it so much as a walk but a waddle.  Still, even in her comical way of walking, Patty was a big hit with my friends when I brought her out on the stoop.  I felt I had arrived somehow.  I was somebody.  I had a meaning in life.  I was the owner of a Patty Playpal.

Other girls on the block were getting a glamorous doll called Miss Revlon.  Oh, how her evening dresses sparkled, her seamed stockings were so silky and her jewlery so sparkly.  My playmates were moving away from baby dolls, bottles and diapers and into the world of high fashion, like I saw on TV and sometimes in advertisements for Revlon or Max Factor make-up.  No matter these dolls were glamorous, Mom said, she thought they were very odd with their little girl faces, pre-teen bodies and grown-up lingerie, shoes and stockings.

I wondered why Mom was so annoyed with me.  Patty Playpal was a little girl, just bigger than most dolls.  Aunt Maureen and Uncle Alex gave her to me for my birthday.  At my party Mom and Dad were smiling and so happy about the gift.  But now that I was getting so much attention Mom kept reprimanding me.  She called me a stranger and asked where “Her EmilyAnn went?”  When I said “Here I am!” she replied, “No, you’re the show-off.  I want to see my EmilyAnn again.”

Whatever Mom was trying to get me to do had no effect.  I was too elated with all the attention Patty brought me.  On one Saturday, our neighbor Mrs. Koslowski from 3 doors up rang our bell after seeing me with Patty through the window.  I’d picked her up so Mrs. K could wave to her.  Mom let Mrs. Koslowski in.  She said she just had to see this doll that everyone was talking about.  She thought it was a great learning experience for little girls to have a doll that taught them how to dress and care for someone else.  When she’d finished looking at Patty Mom asked if Mrs. K wanted to stay for coffee.  She declined but said she’d be back in an hour or so with something for the doll.

Mrs. Koslowski came back about an hour later with a box filled with dresses she had made her daughters when they were about 3-4 years old.  She had been holding them for her future granddaughters but thought better of it.  Her daughters might have boys, she thought, then what?

The dresses fit Patti perfectly.  Mom and I looked at the dresses and the beautiful finishings on the inside.  I couldn’t get over the hem tape and enclosed seams and all the trims used.  In the days that followed I went to school and found settling down to homework somewhat easier but not enough.  I still wanted to go out to play and then out with Daddy for drives on the weekend.  The only time I sat still and forgot about everything else going on inside and outside was when I looked at the dresses Mrs. Koslowski made.  All the mothers on the block cooked.  Some crocheted.  Others gardened.  Some decorated and cleaned better than others.  They all had a talent to make and create in ways I just started becoming aware of.  Mrs. Koslowski amazed me with how she sewed.  Grandma Josie sewed, too.  Yet I never paid much attention to what it was she was making.  All of a sudden I had to learn what it was my Grandma Josie did and if she made the kind of magic Mrs. K did when sewing.

Mom watched me as I became more interested in the dresses than I did in Patty.  I continued to brag about Aunt Maureen, Grandma Blanche, Aunt Betty every chance I could.  I was so proud of what they could do, their cooking, their entertaining, the grand time I had with them.  Mom watched this and one day sat me down.  She asked me point blank, “Who am I?”  I said , “Mom, what a silly question.  You’re you.”

“No I’m your mother,” she replied.  “The others think they know you.  I know the real you.  Mothers know their children like nobody else can.”  She then added, “Well God knows best and the most.”

When I continued to delight in the dresses Mrs. Koslowski gave for Patty Mom told me we were going to visit Grandma Josie.  “Maybe you should learn how to sew,” she said.  “Grandma and I will take you on a whole new adventure. “

88j-A Stitch in Time-EmilyAnn’s Memoir-Endings and Beginnings, 1958

Introduction

July 1958

I was sitting in the living room after Aunt Betty arrived.  She moved about quietly and was more subdued than on previous evenings when she came to babysit.  Mom and Dad came downstairs and stood in the living room.  Dad had on a black suit, white shirt and a tie.  He also wore a gold tie clip.  Mom wore a black dress, stockings, pumps and carried her clutch purse.  She handed Dad the basket of bagels wrapped in cellophane.  It had been placed on top of the TV earlier in the afternoon.  Mom warned me not to open it, touch it or mess it up. 

Mom and Dad looked like they were going out to dinner.  When I asked Dad why he was bringing a basket of bagels to a restaurant he turned to Mom.  She sat down on the sofa with me and said, “We are going to sit Shiva with Grandma Blanche’s family.  Her mother has died.”

Aunt Betty went off to the kitchen from where I heard her taking dishes and glasses out of the cabinets.  Mom was very focused.  She told me, “What has happened is part of life. Don’t be afraid,” Mom said.  “I’ll answer all your questions tomorrow.”

It was a hot evening.  The windows were open, and I can still remember how the curtains moved only slightly.  Aunt Betty came in with a snack after Mom and Dad left.  She’d gotten some Ritz crackers and put some strawberry jam on them.  We sat together on the sofa as she reminded me that Mom was right to say I should not be afraid, and I should not worry.  She added, “Always remember, you’re a Terry!  Our family stays strong no matter what happens.”  She then quietly went upstairs to check on my brother who was sleeping in his room.

On the next day Dad did not talk in detail about what I now know was the death of my Great Grandmother Tillie Rosenbaum Flashenberg.  Mom simply told me that to sit Shiva meant a Jewish family was receiving visitors after a loved one died.  The visitors came to the home to sit with the family and keep them company.  It was not a time to be alone.  When I had more questions, Mom turned to Dad to pick up the matter.  Dad helped me become aware of the cycles of life by having me get involved with his care of the gardens in the front and back of the house. 

Summer of 1958 through Spring of 1959 was a time of endings and new beginnings for the family.  About this time my father left the importing company where he had worked for almost 10 years to start a new job in a completely different industry and in an office only 10 minutes from home.  With Dad home earlier every evening I had more time to pal around with him and get involved with him in the garden and his drives on Saturday mornings. 

Relationship Notes

Frank Jesse was the son of Al and Blanche (nee Flashenberg) Terry*.  Born in 1927, Frank grew up in Brooklyn in a neighborhood bordering Bensonhurst and Dyker Heights.  He had three siblings:  Alfred, Robert and Maureen.  Frank was an outgoing person who did his best to meet the expectations his father had for him as the time came when they would open their own importing business.  Frank loved his mother very much and was amenable to her influence, even in matters regarding how his children were brought up.  Knowing that there was recurring friction between him and Emily Leatrice after the birth of their second child, Blanche persuaded Frank to take EmilyAnn to stay with her and Maureen on Saturdays.  The benefit Frank saw was that Emily had time to rest and EmilyAnn had time to get away from the ups and downs of Emily’s moods.  At the time Emily seemed to agree that this was an agreeable solution.    

Emily Leatrice was the daughter of Sam and Josie (nee Muro) Serrapede.  She married Frank Jesse in 1950 when she was 19 years old.  Emily was a good student and graduated Bay Ridge High School with a Commercial Diploma.  Emily worked part-time beginning in her Junior Year.  Since her typing and shorthand were very fast and accurate, she secured a part-time position as a Junior Legal Secretary at the local office of an attorney.  Emily continued to work there until EmilyAnn was born in 1953.  As the years between the time she left her job and, as she later told EmilyAnn, “sunk into the role of a 1950s housewife” Emily felt more and more confined and cut off.  She loved Frank and her children but was very aware of the limits the financial situation put on her movements.  She began to rebel against her in-laws.  Even though they helped with the purchase of the house and support of the family during times of illness or by taking care of EmilyAnn, Emily felt her status was being diminished little by little.  When EmilyAnn began to form strong bonds to her maternal Aunt, Grandmother and Great Aunt Emily began to plan a way to reassert herself as EmilyAnn’s mother.

Gerry (Gerald, Gennaro) Serrapede was the son of San and Josie Serrapede.  Emily Leatrice was 7 years older than Gerry when he was born in 1938.  She took her role as his big sister very seriously.  She always made sure he had a birthday card from her even when he was 1 year old.  When Gerry passed away from pneumonia in 1941, Josie retreated to her room for 1 whole year.  Emily Leatrice also felt the loss withdrawing into her room whenever she could and remaining distant from events going on around her.  All that changed when Josie and Sam became parents of Junior (Sammy) in 1942.  The presence of a baby and all the activity around him brought Emily out of her shell and also drove her out of the apartment which was proving too small for 4 people.  Emily began visiting her cousins again and as pre-teens do, looked forward to Saturdays at the movies or out on long walks with her cousins and friends.

Aunt Betty was born in Sicily circa 1894.  Her first name was Bettina, but she preferred Betty.  She was the eldest sister of Al Terry.  She married Giuseppe Cassera in 1917 and moved with him to New Jersey sometime in the 1920s.  Giuseppe was a carpenter and while living in New Jersey had his own business.  She became a widow before 1940 and was living with her sister Edith and brother-in-law Jack for a few years.  In 1950 she went to live with her sister Mamie and brother-in-law Christopher Spinella.  Mamie was dying from bone cancer and Betty took care of her son, Frank during this period.  After Mamie’s death Christopher and Betty got married.  According to living family members interviewed, the marriage was for companionship and to make sure Frank had a mother influence after Mamie’s death.

Although she was my Great Aunt Betty, I never used the conventional terms for the Aunts and Uncles of my parent’s generation.  Since I was so close to my parents emotionally, I thought of them as my Aunts and Uncles, too.  Mom had spoken of all the relatives in such detail they did not seem old or distant to me.

Tillie Flashenberg (nee Rosenbaum) was Blanche’s mother.  Born in Galicia circa 1880, Tillie came to the United States with her parents, Pincus and Mary (Machla) Rosenbaum and her siblings circa 1900.  In 1903 she married Benjamin Flashenberg.  They were the parents of Blanche (a/k/a Bessie), Belle (a/k/a Ryfka, Rebecca and Becky), Irving (a/k/a Isidore, Ben) and David.  Tillie was an enterprising woman.  Her husband was too low key for her liking and although a hard worker did not make enough to satisfy her desires to join the American middle class.  She managed to do this by carefully managing the family’s finances so that they could afford a large house in 1930 which they purchased and which Tillie operated as a boarding house.  Tillie also worked part-time as a nurse taking care of sick people at their home or temporarily lodging them at her boarding house.

Blanche and Al Terry were Frank’s parents.  Al worked for an importer of leathers and reptile skins.  He always sought to expand his professional and social circle.  As a result, he frequently brought guests home for dinner or hosted get-togethers where his colleagues could meet and mingle with each other in an informal setting.  Al was the son of Sicilian immigrants who came to the US at the end of the 19th century.  The family were bakers and macaroni makers back in Sicily.  They continued in the macaroni business after arriving in New York.  The family also had a small grocery store which operated until the death in 1910 of Alfonso, Al’s paternal grandfather. 

Alex and Maureen (nee Terry*) Malinowski were Frank’s brother-in-law and sister.  Maureen was born in 1934 and was often described by Frank as “14 going on 40” during the time they were growing up.  Maureen was very domestic.  She married Alex in 1953.  Alex worked as an elevator operator in the building where Fleming-Joffe had their offices.  He and Maureen had hoped to become parents but an attack of the mumps in the mid-1950s rendered Maureen infertile.  As a result, they transferred the love and attention they had to give on Maureen’s nieces and nephews. 

The Strafaci Brothers became Frank’s employers after he left Fleming Joffe in the mid-late 1950s.  They shared in a family business located in Brooklyn.  The business operated within the areas of plumbing, heating and general contracting.

*Note on Surname

Dad’s family used an anglicized version of the family name for business and social purposes.  While the actual name was known amongst neighbors and close family, the preference was to use Terry.  Al, Frank’s father, wanted to appeal to as many business prospects as possible and not be limited by stereotypes commonly held about Sicilian immigrants and their descendants. 

Family Story: Endings and Beginnings

Grandma Blanche’s family was always a mystery as I was growing up.  I knew she had a beautiful sister named Belle who was married to a milliner named David.  They had a daughter named Sybil.  Her brother Irving was the second in the family, after Blanche, to create a scandal.  Irving married out; the shock was even more with his marriage which was seen as more daring than Blanche’s.  Irving’s wife was an Irish Catholic whose father was a popular Hollywood actor in the 1920s through 1960s. Having a relative by marriage who was in show business was not looked upon favorably in the Orthodox Jewish household Tillie and Benjamin kept.

88i-EmilyAnn’s Memoir- Kindergarten 1958-All of a sudden, I loved going to school!

Introduction

Why can’t 21st century educators, parents and teachers let children enjoy childhood?  Why the rush towards book learning, testing and increasing confinement in the classroom?  Why is an emphasis on playtime and creativity being diminished in Kindergarten?

I asked myself these questions as I discussed the initial stages of this posting with Uncle Sammy.  We share memories of enjoying recess time when we were in elementary school.  Those 10-15 minutes outdoors, weather permitting, were a release from the discipline and conformity we had yet to get used to in the first and second grades.  The adjustment from a 2-3-hour kindergarten day to a 6-hour school day took some doing.  The time to go outside, run around, laugh, play a quick game of “Catch me if you can” all helped revive our spirits, prepare us for lunch and make us more alert for the afternoon.

Each generation raises their children under the influences of popular trends and what the authorities on childhood development hold out as the latest, most important, most improved and best way to maximize a child’s development and the expression of their potential. When I grew up Permissive Parenting was a major influence on the society promoting an approach to education and child rearing that is not accepted or promoted by the modern mainstream society.  We read about children having their parents micro-manage their calendars and scheduling playdates.  Pre-school is no longer about play; it is about learning the skills and concepts once learned at 5 years of age in Kindergarten.  In turn, Kindergarten is now called the New First Grade since 5-year olds are expected to gain academic skills.  There is concern today that the lessening of emphasis on playtime, singing, dancing and drawing is leading to an emotional and mental overload for children.

Those who study this trend to earlier academics cite the influence of federal government programs such as “No Child Left Behind”.  Schools must administer standardized tests to make sure each child is achieving the goals set by this program.  The idea is to raise everyone’s level of accomplishment earlier in life.  The popular culture now emphasizes a college degree as the key to success, prosperity and well-being when the child grows up.  Therefore, teaching to the test has become so important.  For parents who support such programs, they see it as a way for their children to develop discipline and abilities that will prepare them for the rigors of academic studies as they grow older.  Today preteens and teens take even more tests and compete for entrance to prestigious colleges and universities than in the decades preceding the 1990s.  Schools in turn risk losing federal dollars if students do not meet the standards of “No Child Left Behind”.  Parents and teachers believe the extra year spent learning in kindergarten will help their children be at least a year ahead when they enter first grade.

For Uncle Sammy and I, the popular trends when we grew up favored letting children develop at a pace that gave them time to explore, inquire, navigate and experience the world directly through play.  Book learning was introduced gradually.  Elders, parents, neighbors and relatives were more involved in the child’s life in many communities.  They not only helped watch the children but were looked to as sources of knowledge.  Family gatherings were intergenerational and were times for socializing and learning the family stories.  The belief was that school was a part of life but not necessarily the only venue for education.  The school of experience was open to all and everyone had a lifetime enrollment.

The drawback about the past was that not everyone had equal access to a setting and stimuli that promoted a well-rounded environment conducive to a child’s optimum growth mentally, spiritually, physically and emotionally.  We believe that this is what the current programs seek to address but by limiting the free time children have for their spiritual and creative growth there could be a new crop of side effects we have yet to see manifest.

My first day in Kindergarten was one I had dreaded for most of 1958.  In this posting I will share why it became the start of my love for school.  I also learned that teachers are very special people.  After a few days in Kindergarten, I felt that I now had a place and person I could go to each day who cared about me and who I could talk to, especially on those days when my parents were having an ongoing disagreement whether it was about money or my new born siblings inability to gain weight.

Relationship Notes

Frank Jesse Terry* was my Dad.  He was 30 years old when I started Kindergarten in September 1958.  Dad had earned good money as a Supervisor at an importing firm in New York City.  In the early 1950s, he had an accident while supervising a shipment coming into the warehouse at the importing firm.  There had been some friction between him and management after that.  Al Terry, my paternal Grandfather, also worked at the same company.  He, too, had some disagreement with the owners and held himself in check until he resigned around 1957-1958 to start his own business.  Dad resigned from the importing firm mid-late 1950s.  Dad became very concerned about money at this time and wanted Mom to adhere to a strict budget.  He took a full-time day job as an office manager for a local contractor.  Dad also worked evenings for a carpenter as a sales representative promoting kitchen cabinets and custom-made furniture.

Emily Leatrice was my Mom.  She was 27 years old in 1958, overwhelmed by the illness of her second child and then frustrated by the hospital bill that had to be paid after the he was hospitalized for severe diarrhea and dehydration.  The unexpected expenses curtailed the recreational shopping Mom had gotten used to as a means to alleviate the constriction and lack of stimulation she felt in her role as a housewife.  Her in-laws had not come across with the lavish gifts they had when EmilyAnn and her cousin Jackie were born in 1953 and 1954 because they were the first and second grandchildren.  As more grandchildren came, Blanche and Al scaled back on gift giving since Al was focused on getting his business established.  Emily opened a charge account at A&S Department Store and started charging many purchases for the new baby. Her attitude to her in-laws was negative.  She had given birth to a boy and expected to be treated special.  Emily’s sister-in-law Pat, though, had the first male grandchild and was therefore enjoying the attention.  This was followed by Emily’s other sister-in-law Marietta having two boys roughly 2 1/2 years apart. 

Blanche and Al Terry were my paternal Grandparents.

Maureen was my paternal Aunt and Baptismal Godmother.  She was married to Alex Malinowski.  Maureen and Alex lived in the upstairs apartment of Blanche and Al’s two-family house.

Mrs. Perretta was my Kindergarten teacher.  I still remember her to this day.  Each day going to school became more important to me as she was one constant, along with Aunt Maureen, my paternal and maternal grandparents, that I went to.  For me, they were likes a quiet harbor amidst the noisy ups and downs at home and on the block where we lived.

*Terry was the name my Dad and paternal Grandfather used professionally.  I use it here in the hopes of connecting with descendants of those who worked with my grandfather Al Terry when he was employed at Fleming-Joffe or during the time he headed his own business Al Terry & Son.

88h-EmilyAnn’s Memoir-A Stitch in Time-1958-The Fender Bender

Introduction

Screen shots from YouTube video on the MyFootage.com channel of a family out for a ride in their 1956 car. The channel describes the car as a Chevy but a commenter states it’s a 1956 Ford.

One enduring image of summertime in the 1950s that can be seen in movies, TV commercials, TV shows and print advertisements is that of a family going out for a drive in a snazzy car with the windows opened and the breeze coming in.  The destination seems unimportant.  What counted was being seen and being admired.  Ownership of an attractive, well-kept car marked the family as having arrived in the ranks of the middle class. 

Screen shot from a 1950s Chrysler commercial (See Resources for link).  Note how the child is riding in the front seat of the convertible.  There are no safety restraints for either mother or daughter.

In this posting we will see how the popular culture had little to no awareness of an important aspect of driving: that there must be safety systems within the vehicle to prevent or lessen injuries to passengers caused by an accident.

Relationship Notes

Frank Jesse Terry* was the son of Al and Blanche (nee Flashenberg) Terry*.  He married Emily Leatrice Serrapede in 1950.  By 1958 Emily Leatrice was a full-time housewife and the family lived on Frank’s salary.  The burden of homeownership strained the family finances causing recurring disagreements between Emily and Frank. 

One Sunday after Emily objected to Frank’s criticisms of her use of a charge account, he decided to take EmilyAnn out with him for drive along Shore Road.  He thought they both needed a change of scenery.

Blanche and Al Terry were my paternal grandparents.

Josie and Sam Serrapede were my maternal grandparents.

Mrs. Robertazzi and Mrs. A.. were widows who lived in the row where our house was.  Because of their good moral character and discretion, they became trusted friends to Emily Leatrice.  Neither woman was given to gossiping.

EmilyAnn’s Memoir “A Stitch in Time”:  The Fender Bender

The worst disagreements between my parents happened during the weekends.  When they started early on a Saturday I had a sure way to get away from the house when the weather was nice.  I was almost 5 years old and felt very proud of the way I got the attention of my friends and playmates.

I sat on the stoop with a pad of and a box of coloring pencils.  When my friends came to see what I was so engrossed in I’d ask them to draw me a picture.  They were happy to do so.  I’d ask if we could continue drawing and coloring on their stoop or at their house.  When they said yes, I opened the door to call Mom or Dad and ask if I could go to Mary Joan or Joanne’s house.  Since Mom and Dad approved of these friends the answer was always yes. 

When my friends were not around I sought out Mrs. Robertazzi or Mrs. A. if they were sweeping their stoop or working in their front gardens.  Just talking to another adult away from our stoop took my mind off the unsettled feeling that was becoming very familiar to me whenever my parents had a disagreement.   

On Sundays my friends were not available for play.  The entire day was spent in the company of family.  Some families went to church early, others spent time over a leisurely breakfast.  Fathers read the newspapers while their children pored over the comics or watched TV.  The women were busy cooking the Sunday afternoon feast that included some form of pasta and homemade tomato sauce.  Sundays were the days for food, family, and long conversations for the adults, naptimes for the babies and board games for the pre-teens.  It was a day when a family either received visitors or paid a visit to their parents, cousins, or other relatives. 

Except for bouts of illness, we always visited my Grandparents on Sundays.  Both my paternal and maternal grandparents loaded us up with enough leftovers for dinner on Monday and Tuesday. Starting on Wednesday we went back to Mom’s meal plan which consisted of pan fried meats or any kind of meat that could be broiled or roasted in the oven along with some potatoes.  Otherwise we had hamburgers, hot dogs or dishes like Chicken a la Can Can or Tuna Crunch.  To these meals were added an iceberg lettuce salad with onions and tomatoes and dressed with whatever salad dressing she bought on sale that week.

My parents worked out a way to ensure that my maternal and paternal grandparents had equal chances of seeing us.  The approach my parents took was to alternate our visits for the Sunday afternoon meal.  It was possible to see both sets of grandparents on the same Sunday.   One week we had dinner with Grandpa Al and Grandma Blanche Terry.  After that we visited Grandma Josie and Grandpa Sam Serrapede  for coffee and dessert.  The next weekend we reversed the settings by going to Grandma Josie’s for dinner and then visiting Grandma Blanche’s for dessert. 

The visits to my Grandparents took place as scheduled every week, even when my parents had a disagreement over breakfast.  Right before Dad and I left for that drive to Shore Road, I heard Mom say something she would repeat many times after this:  

“Everything for this house and nothing for me!”

88g-EmilyAnn’s Memoir-A Stitch in Time-Pigeon Man, 1958

Introduction

The catalyst for EmilyAnn’s change of heart about going to school started with the newly found object of her wonder and fascination.  It was a sight she viewed from her bedroom window early each morning and evening.  From watching the activities of Pigeon Man and his flock of pigeons she started asking many questions.  Frank, EmilyAnn’s Dad, answered those questions in a way that showed why it was important to go to school.

Relationship notes

Frank Jesse Terry was born in 1927 to Al and Blanche (nee Flashenberg) Terry*.  He was the eldest of four children and always enjoyed helping his mother around the house with cooking and looking after his younger siblings.  Frank was a very organized, methodical thinker and approached the management of his personal affairs just as he would his responsibilities at work.  He was very detail oriented and conscientious in all matters of personal responsibility whether it was fulfilling a promise or paying his bills on time.  He would have been an excellent school teacher as he enjoyed sharing what he knew with others and encouraged them in their interests.  

*Terry was the anglicized version of the family surname which my family used for professional purposes.

Family story:  Pigeon Man

by EmilyAnn Frances May

My bedroom was located at the back of the house.  It had two windows.  One was directly opposite the same type of bedroom in Mrs. Anzalone’s house next door.  The view that window afforded was not very interesting as she k rarely drew the gauzy curtains apart.  Aside from that the rest of the view consisted of the back stoops of our house and Mrs. Anzalone’s house along with the back entrance to the basement of each house.

The window near my bed overlooked the community driveway that ran in the back of the row houses.  Running parallel to the strip of the drive way were the tiny garages built for the cars of another era.  Even at 4 1/2 I knew the cars of the earlier decades were small in comparison to the cars Dad liked.  I loved the look of our car after Dad had washed and waxed it so that the pink and grey Chevy Bel Air shined in the sunlight. 

Between the garages were small patches of earth meant to serve as a garden, perhaps to grow vegetables.  They were very small and some neighbors planted ground cover, put up a small gate to keep children out and for the most part did little else with the patch.  Our neighbors Mrs. Anzalone and Mrs. Robertazzi were the only ones to cultivate rosebushes that added fragrance and color to the otherwise grey driveway.  Mrs. Robertazzi was of a competitive nature and to prove herself she out-did Mrs. Anzalone by having a fig tree.  A small bowl full of the fruit was given to Mom each summer when I was small.  I never took to figs except when they were inside of cookies like Fig Newtons. 

The set-up of the garages and community drive way on 78th Street, around the block from our location on 79th Street, followed the exact same lines.  It was like looking into a mirror.  I found the sight of the back of the 78th Street row houses the perfect means to forget my anxiousness during the middle of the night.  I started pulling the shade up after my parents put me to bed.  I’d sit up, lean on the bedstead and watch as the scenes in the kitchens and bedrooms.  Of course, I did not look at the sight steadily but anytime I woke up or felt restless I’d look out the window.  I got to know which family had dinner very late, about 8 p.m. when I was in bed already.  Another family had a TV in the back bedroom above their kitchen.  That one room remained lit some evenings long after the other windows in the kitchens and other back bedrooms had been turned off.

It was during a Spring morning that carried hints of Summer weather that I heard the cooing of the kept in a coop atop a house on 78th Street.  I got up to find streaks of yellow, pink and orange working their way through the parting clouds of night.  I looked across to the 78th Street Row House directly across from ours and there it was!  The origin of the cooing sound:  a small, neatly built bright white pigeon coop.  Why it was the most amazing thing I’d seen.  A house for birds on top of a house for people.  I’d been aware of the cooing of pigeons nearby but never focused on where it came from.

88f-EmilyAnn’s Memoir-A Stitch in Time-Oscar and the Bug-a-boos

Introduction

When parents bring their new baby home, they have many major lifestyle adjustments ahead.  There are accommodations they can make that are easy and others that are impossible.  Most will agree that sleep deprivation caused by meeting the feeding and changing needs of the infant is a very serious health related issue.  Without enough sleep, parents are not able to reason things through and handle every situation in a disciplined and timely manner.

The matter is compounded once the child grows and reaches the ages between 2-5 when they now talk, begin questioning the rules their parents teach them and are curious to explore the big world around them.  The child is not fully sensitized to the needs of the parents, sometimes considering fulfillment of their own needs the first and foremost important thing in the world. 

Parents who are tired, lacking mental stimulation and the company of other adults often cannot follow all the nicely laid out techniques for disciplining a child the way childrearing authorities describe.  At their wits end they may revert to an age-old figure that many experts have serious discussions about but which gives the harried parent enough relief to get a full night’s sleep:  the Boogeyman.

In this posting Uncle Sammy share his experiences with the Boogeyman.  EmilyAnn will relate how an entire cast of characters known as the Bug-a-boos were called in when the Boogeyman failed to have the intended effect.  The harried adult who introduced these shady, questionable characters into our lives was none other than Emily Leatrice, Sammy’s sister and EmilyAnn’s Mom.

Relationship Notes

Emily Leatrice Serrapede was the eldest child of Sam and Josie (nee Muro) Serrapede of Dyker Heights, Brooklyn, NY.  She was born in 1931 and was 16 years old when she was challenged to find a quick solution so that she could sleep late on Saturday mornings.  This was not easy to do since her baby brother Junior(Sammy, Sabatino) enjoyed listening to his records and singing along.

Emily had a similar challenge starting at the age of 26 when, her daughter EmilyAnn proved to have no internal clock or sense of boundaries.    Emily had to think quickly to get EmilyAnn to stay in bed all night and understand the importance of why a house locks the doors at nights and puts gates on the stairs to protect little children prone to running instead of walking and falling when not watching where they were going.

Sammy “Junior” Serrapede is Emily Leatrice’s younger brother.  He was born in 1943.  He got his first record player sometime between the ages of 4 and 5.  Josie bought him recordings of popular songs for children.  Junior also enjoyed singing the songs from his favorite shows.  His early morning enthusiasm during his playtime delighted his parents but irritated his sister who loved to sleep until 9 or 10 a.m. on Saturday mornings.

EmilyAnn  is the daughter of the late Frank Jesse and Emily Leatrice Terry*.  Born in 1953 she never slept on a regular schedule.  Frank often called his daughter a night owl. Emily often called her a pest when she awoke to find EmilyAnn had toddled into her bedroom after Frank left to have breakfast with his parents during the week.  This was done so Emily could sleep until 8 a.m. 

The biggest challenge Emily and Frank had was keeping EmilyAnn upstairs in her room during the night.  Between the ages of 3 and 5 there were several sleepwalking incidents that doctors had no solution for.  Tranquilizers were prescribed by one doctor but Emily and Frank rejected such a treatment and searched for some other means to get EmilyAnn to stay in her room all night.

*Note about Surname

Terry is the surname my paternal Grandparents and my parents used for business and social purposes.

Family Story:  Oscar and the Bug-a-boos

Emily Leatrice was a teenager who loved to sleep late on Saturday mornings.  This was especially true when she started working part-time during her Junior Year at Bay Ridge High School.  Emily worked as a stenographer/typist/switchboard operator at a neighborhood law firm.  She enjoyed her job very much as it increased her sense of confidence in her skills.  She also derived great satisfaction from earning her own money.  Emily felt a newly discovered sense of confidence and ability to plan to the future she put some of her paycheck into a savings account each week. She also enjoyed a busy social life with Frank Jesse Terry whom she met around 1947.  Emily always maintained that catching a few hours of extra sleep during the weekend prepared her for the busy week ahead.  Of all her subjects dictation and transcription were the ones requiring a clear mind and sustained focus.  To be up-to-speed it was imperative that she have time on the weekend to rest and relax in a quiet, orderly space.

88e-EmilyAnn’s Memoir-A Stitch in time 1958-Stories my Mother told me: Banishing the Mal Occhio

Introduction

(Please see posting 88d-EmilyAnn’s Memoir-A Stitch in time-Seen and Unseen, 1958)

There was great excitement in Mrs. Peretta’s Kindergarten class in October of 1958.  Each child was to prepare a short speech about who they would be for Halloween and why.  Suddenly the excitement of this holiday became greater for me.  I watched my classmates give out hints about their costumes without revealing all the details.  All my classmates were excited.  There was a sense of having our chance to shine in the spotlight.   Oh, to be so admired!  I resolved that I had to be costumed as someone fantastic, someone everyone would want to know. 

I thought a gypsy fortune teller all decked out with a colorful scarf, full black skirt, big gold earrings and lots of glittering bracelets and necklaces was sure to be someone all the kids would gather around.  We didn’t have anything at home I could use for a crystal ball but maybe Dad would lend me the deck of cards he used to play pinochle with his own father and Uncle Jesse.

Oh what fun it would be to invite my classmates over to visit on Halloween.  We could sit on the stoop while I, dressed like a gypsy I named Madame Zara, had them pull a card I’d use to tell their fortune.  I had no idea what the characters on the deck of cards stood for but Dad explained they were Jacks, Kings, Queens, Diamonds, Hearts and Spades.  I still had no idea what I was doing but decided to use the cards as a way to make up a spectacular story to amuse my classmates and new friends from school.

One evening Mom got dead serious and took the deck of cards away just as Dad was having a good laugh about my story of the marriage of the King and Queen of Diamonds.  She told Dad to put them somewhere safe where I couldn’t find them.  There was no way on earth, Mom yelled, that I was going to be a gypsy.

This is how I learned about the Zingere, the Italian word for the Roma or Romany people.  They are commonly called the gypsy people and are portrayed in the stereotypical images of fortune tellers, tinkers, or nomads travelling from place to place in colorful caravans.  They are also categorized as thieves and criminals.  Mom explained that the only Zingere she knew of were the ones she saw in Brooklyn when she was a little girl.  Although the Serrapede family did not have any personal contact or interaction with the Roma people featured in the family story of this posting, the lore, gossip and beliefs within the Italian-American community in regards to the supposed occult powers of the Zingere  were at the heart of much mental anguish the Serrapede family went through after the death of Emily’s baby brother Gerry. 

This is how I learned the full story of the events surrounding Gerry’s death.  It was much more than Gerry contracting pneumonia while the family lived in a cold-water flat that was the source of the guilt and mental torment Josie, Sam and Emily Leatrice went through in the months after Gerry’s death.

Relationship Notes

Sam and Josie (nee Muro) Serrapede were born in Agropoli, Italy.  Josie immigrated to America as a 3 year-old when her mother came to America to join her father in a new life here.  Sam came to the U.S. in the late 1920s.  They married in 1930 and lived on in the Italian-American community of Dyker Heights.  The world in which the Serrapede family lived during was located around 10^th to 13^th Avenues in the 60 numbered streets.  Josie supported the family by doing piece work from home for women’s blouse companies.  Sam worked as a shoe shiner. 

Emily Leatrice Serrapede was the born in 1931 to Sam and Josie.  Each year on April 18^th Josie gave Emily a birthday party complete with a cake, festive decorations and the presence of her aunts, uncles and cousins.  Emily was an only child for 7 years until Gerry was born.  She considered him her baby sometimes when he was happy and loved to clap hands with her and smile.  Once he got cranky, hungry or needed a change she was happy Josie was there and very much in charge, as she was in all matters related to the household.

Emily Leatrice was Sammy’s sister and EmilyAnn’s mother.  She was married to Frank Jesse Terry* from 1953 to 1980.

Gerald Serrapede was the middle child of Sam and Josie.  Gerald was born 7 years after his big sister, Emily Leatrice.  She described him as a her “little cuddle-baby” and a joy to be with.  Gerald was born in 1938.

88d-EmilyAnn’s Memoir-A Stitch in time-Seen and Unseen, 1958

Introduction

Since the incident* with Mrs. Robertazzi the kids up the block heard about how I answered her back.  I had attracted their attention.  But instead of it getting their admiration, they looked at me as a silly, naïve kid.  They said things that caused me to see what a mess I had made by being naughty.  Now I had a big problem. 

That was the conclusion drawn by the kids up the block after I had to tell them my parents limited my activities to my side of the street and the length of the row houses. That was my punishment for being rude and disrespectful to Mrs. Robertazzi. I was to go no further.  I had no new charms to show off from the gumball machines either.  Without my allowance I couldn’t buy them. 

One morning Mom opened the door to get the mail.  Joanne was sitting on the stoop waiting for me.   She had not seen me sitting in the sunporch, waving to her from the windows that offered a view of the block going towards 13^th Avenue.  From there I could see not only Joanne’s house but the Allen’s house next door.  Their nieces Eileen and Debbie came to live with them.  Debbie was about my age and Mommy approved of her as a playmate.  But because I’d withdrawn to my room we hadn’t gotten acquainted yet.

I left my room and stood at the top of the stairs.  I could hear Mommy talking with Joanne.  It turned out she was also worried about going to school.  But that shouldn’t stop me from coming out to play, my friend added. 

When the door closed I came downstairs and talked to Mommy first.  In the evening I talked to Daddy.  I didn’t want to spend another night worrying like this.

*Please see posting 88c-EmilyAnn’s Memoir-A Stitch in time-Mischief, 1958.

Relationship Notes

Emily Leatrice was my Mom.  She did not socialize or become too familiar with most of the housewives on the block.  Like her father Sam, Emily had a strong belief that the less everyone knew about your business, the stronger the immediate family was.  She disliked gossip and idleness.  She was not a fussy housekeeper the way many of the Italian-American housewives on our block were.  Our home was wel-lived in.  It was a place where I could play in any room.  Unlike many of the children on the block, I was not told to take my friends down to play in the basement.  We watched TV or played with our toys in the living room.  My friends Mary Joan and Joanne also let me play in their homes or gardens.

Frank Jesse was my Dad.  He rejected what he called the “stuperstitions” (stupid superstitions) of the Italian-Sicilian American community he grew up in.  Since his mother, Blanche, was the daughter of immigrant Orthodox Jews from Galicia he grew up in a home that did not have the usual religious art like a painting of The Last Supper and a cross in every bedroom the way many homes in the neighborhood did.  His father’s family were more focused on things of this world, especially business and social status. Dad believed that one had to overcome negative circumstances through discipline, focus and vision for the future. One’s character and behavior were determined by sincerity.  He formed a conclusion about a person based more on their actions, especially patterns of behavior that are consistently repeated. 

Mary Joan lived two doors up from our house in the row.  She lived with her parents in the basement apartment of her maternal grandparent’s house.  My Mom and Dad also befriended Mary Joan’s grandparents since they were good neighbors and stayed apart from the gossip and taking sides on matters involving other families on the block.

Joanne lived in a large, two family detached house two doors down from our house.  Her grandparents owned the house and were very particular about who came to visit Joanne and Steven.  The garden was well-kept.  To the side was a trellis covered with roses under which Joanne and I sat on summer afternoons.  The house, too, was well kept. 

Joanne’s mother was a divorcee who worked full-time.  She was a very attractive woman who reminded me of Loretta Young, a popular movie star who successfully transitioned to TV.  Joanne, Steven and their mother lived upstairs.

Lou and Sadie lived next door to us in a very large, three-story house with an attic.  Dad believed that at one time it had been a farm house, it was that big.  Lou and Sadie had a large family and entertained their sons, daughter-in-laws and grandchildren every Sunday during the summer months.  They frequently had picnic style lunches in their backyard followed by a game of baseball.  In the early evenings the family went inside where Sadie sang popular music of the 1920s to 1930s while someone played the piano.

Dad was sometimes invited to their early evening gatherings around the piano.  Since Dad had an extensive knowledge of music from the 1920s onward, he and the Sadie always had enjoyable discussions. 

Debbie and Eileen were Sadie’s nieces.  Their mother passed away a short time before they came to live with their Aunt Sadie and Uncle Lou.  Eileen was about 12 years older than Debbie.  Eileen was very modest and Mom took to her and Debbie right away.  Mom liked that Eileen always had something pleasant to say and dressed in an understated manner.  Debbie was easygoing and friendly.  She was just as happy playing with dolls as she was jumping rope.  It wasn’t necessary to bring out many toys to play with her.

The kids up the block come back in my memories more as a group entity than as specific individuals, except for one boy.  Overall they were from families my parents did not socialize with nor become overly familiar with.  They stayed up the block most of the time but when they did come down the block they revealed they knew everything going on with the families who lived in the row houses.  Mom told me this was because of idle chatter and gossip.

My parents never expressed any strong positive or negative opinions about the parents of the children from up the block.  They did mention who owned a business and who was successful but that was it.  Without going into any explanations I was told not to go up the block or play with the children from the families who lived there.

The row houses formed the world of my childhood.  Although there were children my age across the street, until the age of 6 I was only permitted to move up or down the block along the length of six of the seven row houses where we lived.  The seventh house marked the beginning of the territory known as “up the block”.  I was not to go there but if I saw any of the children or their parents who lived there and they greeted me I was to be respectful and return the greeting.  But nothing else.

Mrs. Elettra Robertazzi was a widow who lived at the end of our row.  Her house was located right near the entrance to the community driveway.  She was constantly taunted by the children from up the block.  Whether it was about her thick eyeglasses, her raspy voice, her slim figure, her quick-witted responses in English, her agility—really anything at all—the kids up the block had a way of turning it into a negative attribute.  In this posting we’ll see how this played out in my life.

Mrs. Robertazzi was not popular with the kids up the block because she watched over her property diligently.  She was not afraid to confront parents when children sat on her stoop or picked the petunias from her carefully tended garden.  She also verbally reprimanded children when they spoke rudely to her or to other children.

Family Story:  The Mal Occhio

Mrs. Robertazzi kept watching me in the days after Mom and Dad disciplined me after I taunted her by running and screaming at the front and back of her house.  This caused her to run along with me and rush to open the front door of her house and then the back door of her house.  She came out yelling “You faccia brutta!* Get outta my property!  Shut up!”  Since I had behaved like the other children who taunted her, I received the predictable response.  Before this I had never behaved like this.  Once she saw it was me she stopped yelling and asked me why I was imitating the other children on the block.

Even though I had apologized, Dad suspended my allowance for two weeks.  I still had to do my chores as Mommy assigned them but I’d not receive any allowance.  In addition to dusting my toybox and toys, I now learned how to fold the kitchen towels and dish cloths with Mom after she took the clean, dry clothes off the line.