It’s funny the things that make you smile from your childhood (this time I’m talking about food). A few of mine revolve around memories of my grandparents. I was recently reminded of my grandfather Richter when I bought a package of Little Debbie Oatmeal cookies. The little Debbie Sandwich cookies that I love and also the crust off of Chicken Pot Pies are two of my favorite things that remind me of him. The final thing is the Concord Grapes (white) that grew out front of his house. – The grapes are pretty impossible to find in seedless. I’ve found them once and savored them. I rarely have pot pies, and almost never by the cookies – but when I do it’s a really special event. Grandpa Richter passed away when I wasn’t even a teenager yet so there aren’t that many memories, but I do remember him sitting at his kitchen table giving me his pot pie crust from those Banquet Chicken Pot Pies. At the time I was such a picky eater that’s all I would eat of the pot pie – and forget the crust that had touched the gooie stuff. 🙂 I do remember cookouts at the pond, but food isn’t what sticks out in my mind from those.
I also can’t pass up Turtles when I get the chance, but they are a memory of my Grandmother Wakeland. She would get Turtles for each of the grandkids each Christmas. I think it started back when the schools would sell Katheryn Brach products as fundraisers. She would buy a tin each year (so would my mother) and we would eat one every few days. I think it’s now a different brand, but my mother has taken on the tradition of getting my brother and I a box of Turtles at each Christmas. I think my kids just view it as a Christmas tradition, but for me it’s a memory of childhood.
I also remember my father making fudge. I’ve never found a similar fudge and my dad doesn’t make it anymore. I think it was the only thing he made and it was a special treat when he made it. It involved him mixing together a mishmash of sugar and ingredients (none of which were measured) and then heating them. He would get a cup of water and drop a little in every so often, until some magic time when it balled in the water. Then he would pour it out on the wax paper. We would cut pieces every so often and have a small treat. (We also got Chocolate bars that would sit on the counter and cut off small pieces every so often as a treat) I’m not that big on Chocolate, but if I ever find that type of fudge (or a recipe) I’m going to make it for my kids. I keep thinking one day I’ll convince my dad to make it for me one more time (and I’ll pay attention this time to the recipe).
Not all my memories from childhood revolve around food, but there are some foods that trigger great memories!
Part of the way I went about finding family still in Italy originally (before facebook) was to write letters to everyone with the same last name. It’s a really small town, so it wasn’t too difficult. I included a Self Addressed Stamped Envelope to make it easier. I sent the letter in Italian – not knowing if they would speak English. Of course I don’t speak Italian, so Google Translate came in very handy.
I sent:
Ciao,
Il mio nome e’ Karla Andrew. Abito a Bowling Green, Kentucky STATI UNITI. Mio bisnonne si chiamavano Caterina Maria Negi, e’ nato a Locana ed emigrato negli Stati Uniti nel 1905. Vorrei mettermi in contatto con qualche mio parente ancora residente a Locana.
Non saprei dire se sono imparentato con qualcuno che port ail cognomen Negri residente a Locana. Mi rivolgo a chiunque porti il cognomen Negri ed abbia lo stesso nome di battesimo di mio bisnonne. Mio bisnonne e’ nato il 17 Nov 1874.
Qualora Lei ritenga che possiamo essere imparentati, Le sarei grato se vorra rispondere a questa lettera. Nel caso, invece, che fosse dell’avviso che non fossimo imparentati ma dovesse conoscere qualcuno che si chiama Negri che possa essere imparentato con me Le sarei grato se vorra’ consegnare questa lettera a quella persona.
Voglia gradire I miei sinceri saluti.
I included a list of people and dates that I did know at the bottom. I was excited to receive a couple responses! Of course they weren’t in english though, so one of the things I learned is that translating script in another language is really tough.
The responses were pretty exciting though!
Locana Italy is a small comune (City) in the north part of the country. Locana is located in the moutains. This sign shows distances to nearby towns as well as you can see a Welcome to Locana sign in the background. The second picture is a picture of the town of Locana. There is a group on facebook dedicated to ancestors of families from Locana. I was pretty excited when I found it!
My grandmother didn’t remember many stories about Locana but my Aunt Kate told a couple… of course it was many years ago and I wasn’t even a teenager yet. My g-grandfather passed away when my grandmother was three so my g-grandmother had no one to share stories with and reminisce about Locana. Life was tough and my mother thought my g-grandmother was always afraid she would be made to go back to Italy if she was found out. My g-grandfather was in the process of applying for citizenship when he died of the flu in 1918. My g-grandmother didn’t go on to get citizenship until the early 60s I think.
My Aunt Kate always said that my g-grandmother’s family lived above a cow barn. The cows were used to keep the home warm as heat rises. I can’t even imagine what it must have been like to grow up above a herd of cows, but I assume you get used to it over time.
Another story I remember is about a beggar that showed up to their door each day. My Aunt said that my G-g- grandmother would give scraps to the beggar each day when he would come begging at the door. One day a dog came to the door instead of the beggar and my ancestor through leftover hot coffee instead out and burnt the face of the dog. The next day the beggar was back but with a burn on his face.
Finally there was a story about a chick in the cemetery next to their home. The chick was on a grave, and when they returned there were several chicks (that story I’m much more hazy on.) I wish at the time I had used a tape recorder to capture the stories. Now I’m relying on my faulty memory.
This bridge was immediately recognizable to me. It’s no longer in existence – at least not at this location. My kids used to call it the dangerous bridge. The road was moved over so that the road could be straight – here the bridge was in the middle of a sharp S Curve. Both sides were slopes up to the bridge – and it would flood every time the river rose. This was our favorite spot to put in a canoe though.
I once was coming to my parents and got my van stuck on the incline (side ways) . Talk about scary. I had my oldest with, who was a baby at the time and luckily one of the neighbors took pity and finessed the van around and got it across the bridge. It was VERY icy at the time. I had slid all the way down the hill (which must be a mile down, or at least felt like it) to get to that point.
Funnily enough that isn’t why my kids called it the dangerous bridge. It was because you could walk out on the bridge and look down through spots that had broken away in the floor and see the river floating by.
This bridge has now been replaced by a new straight bridge that can be rushed across at 50 MPH. It has low sides, is concrete, and is down river a little ways. My parents were happy when it was put in even though it involved them losing some of their field since it eliminated the need for them to drive an extra 5 miles or so with a combine to get to the field since they would have to go around through Oakwood and take the singing bridge road then cut around to get to the field less than a mile from their house.
It’s funny how much this bridge though sticks in your memory. I would recognize it anywhere. I remember spending hours at this bridge playing while my parents put canoes in the river – took canoes out, or just worked in a nearby field.
I do wonder how old that bridge was.
When my grandmother passed away my mother passed me a few things to look through and for the boys. Most were Sunday Missals for church and bibles. My boys were attending the local Catholic School so she thought they might be interested. I put them to the side and finally found time to look at one. The one I happened to pick was a bible that had initials on the front. I was surprised to find out it was my mother’s brother and sister’s mother’s family bible. I’ve since given it back to my mother to pass on to my cousins, but I took pictures of the family pages before passing it on.
The bible is from the early 1900s and late 1800s and is full of information. It has a W.G. on the front which is my Aunt and Uncles grandmother. There was even a T. Wakeland listed which took me a while to realize wasn’t my Grandmother, but my Grandfather Wakeland’s brother. (Actually my mother figured that one out) These bibles are full of information! Many times they include not only Births, Deaths, and Marriages, but also major family events in history.
