Sibling Saturday: The Gaffney Sisters of Conneaut, Ohio

Mary Jane (Gaffney) McGinnis

     (1858 - 1940)
Margaret "Maggie" Gaffney

     (1860 - 1949)

Elizabeth "Lyle" Gaffney

     (1862 - 1934)

Delia "Di" Gaffney
     (1864 - 1952)
Frances "Frank" (Gaffney) Cherry
     (1870 - 1953)
Agnes Gaffney
     (1872 - 1952)
Clara Gaffney
     (1877 - 1877) (died in infancy)

Scrapbook page shows (at left) a group photograph Cabinet Card of the
Gaffney sisters, taken by Lou Naef Studios, Conneaut, Ohio; center top,
photograph of  Thomas "Tommy" Gaffney; at right, Cabinet Card
photograph of John "Jack" Gaffney,  by Robinson & Roe Studios,
71 & 79 Clark Street, Chicago and New York.

In the scrapbook of her life, my great aunt, Benita "Detty" (McGinnis) McCormick, paid homage to her mother, Mary Jane McGinnis and Mary Jane's five sisters and two brothers Thomas and John. This week, we'll take a brief look at her mother's younger sisters, Elizabeth, Margaret, Frances, Delia, and Agnes Gaffney.  

Not included in these descriptions were two babies, Edward and Clara Gaffney, both of whom died in infancy.  According to my mother's recollections, they were always fondly included by their brothers and sisters in conversations about their family.


Aunt Detty begins her description, above, of her mother and "the aunts," as they were collectively known to the family:

Where is this world could a girl have found six such wonderful women to watch over and guide her as my mother (Bottom Left in photo) and her five delightful sisters - two dressmakers, one milliner, a school-teacher, one lady, one clown and all of these marvelous cooks!

Elizabeth Gaffney (Aunt Lyle)

          The milliner and woman 
          of the world.

Aunt Margaret

Maggie, the wise, the tactful, the wonderful friend!

  

  

Ladylike Frances -

           Aunt Frank Cherry

Aunt Delia

"Di" of cookie fame.  The practical joker of the town.

Agnes, the Lamb.  

With a beautiful soprano voice and a keen mind.  One of Ohio's leading teachers of Americanization and music in the Cleveland public schools.

Mary Jane McGinnis

Her straight eye kept my father's [illegible] in [illegible].

**********

Copyright ©  2013  Linda Huesca Tully

Are you a member of the Cherry, Gaffney, McCormick, or McGinnis families? Share your memories and comments below.

Thankful Thursday: A Daughter Remembers

Thomas Eugene McGinnis

     (1855 - 1927)

Mary Jane (Gaffney) McGinnis

     (1858 - 1940)

Benita Elizabeth (McGinnis) McCormick

     (1889 - 1984)

Benita (McGinnis) McCormick, or "Aunt Detty," as she was known to our family, kept a scrapbook of her life and memories.  She began it in the early 1970s and added to it from time to time over the years.  On this page, one of the earliest from her album, she attached a photograph of her parents, Thomas and Mary Jane (Gaffney) McGinnis.  They were known to all simply as Tom and Janie.

Scrapbook page from Benita (McGinnis) McCormick's album,
written by her at age 82 in 1972, San Mateo, California

Aunt Detty writes here of her father, Tom:

My father was one of the aforesaid young men working for the N.P.R.R. [Nickel Plate Railroad] in the early days of that road. The story was that as he passed the open dining room window of the Gaffney House to register for a room, he looked up, saw mother and fell madly in love.  When he registered my Aunt Margaret who was at the desk, observed, "You are carrying the biggest lunch pail I have ever seen in my life."

"It is?" laughed my father, "I guess it's true.  But I've just seen the girl I want to fill it for me - she's at the window at the back of the hour ironing!"

By the healthy look of the bridegroom in this picture, it would appear that somebody kept his lunchpail pretty well packed. Wouldn't you say?  Of course, in a family boasting four daughters, somebody was usually busy filling lunchpails for hunger men in the sunny old kitchen those days.

The only illness I can recall in my father's life was his last.  He was an unusually athletic, healthy man, with the most happy and genial disposition I have ever known and just about the most popular.  I loved him very much and often feel him near me.  A good father is a great blessing.

On the same page, she also remembers her mother, Janie:

My mother was a clever fashion designer, never using a pattern - simply held a paper up to her subject and cut to suit the figure before her. 

She made the dress she is wearing in this photo.  It was from satin and beautifully draped, as you may see.  Her hat was made by her sister Elizabeth (Aunt Lyle to us children), who was as clever with hats as my mother was with gowns. 

The parasol my mother is carrying was brown silk with a golden brown bone handle.  I recall admiring it.  Sometimes she would let me hold it.  I remember hazily that many years later I glimpsed it wrapped in tissue in an old trunk in our attic.  But it was then beginning to split, as taffeta will in time.

My mother was aged 26 when this picture was taken.  Which makes her birthday in 1858 (December 2).  She died in 1940, at the age of 82 years old (my present age in 1972).  
Some women become morose in old age, but my mother was alert, interested in people and events to the very last - As I write I keep saying, "Thank you, God, for having given us such wonderful parents!"

Aunt Detty notes that her parents' portrait was of "the newlyweds in Cl. O (Cleveland, Ohio), where they spent their honeymoon."

However, after comparing the above photo with the engagement portraits they had made before, Tom looks a bit older and considerably stockier than he appeared in his original photograph, no matter how well Janie may have packed his lunch pail.

Janie McGinnis (the former Mary Jane Gaffney) also appears a bit older here.  Was this taken in 1884 or sometime later, perhaps during a later trip to Cleveland?  Although the cabinet card style photograph shows that they were in Cleveland wearing their wedding clothes, I would love to know why and when they were there.  Did they return to Cleveland after honeymooning there, maybe for an anniversary or other special occasion?

What do you think?

**********

Copyright ©  2013  Linda Huesca Tully

Are you a member of the Gaffney, McGinnis, or McCormick, families? Share your memories and comments below.

Sentimental Sunday: A Token of Their Love

Thomas Eugene McGinnis

     (1855 - 1927)

Mary Jane (Gaffney) McGinnis

     (1858 - 1940)

Face of Mary Jane McGinnis' love
 token. What did the "M" stand for?

Reverse side of love token shows it is a
Seated Liberty quarter dated 1854.

Good things come in small packages.

Some years ago, my second cousin, Benita Jane (McCormick) Olson, gave me a small brooch that had belonged to my great-grandmother, Mary Jane (Gaffney) McGinnis.  The brooch had been made from an old coin that was planed on one side, where someone had etched the letter "M" and bordered it with an embellishment of double linked curves.  On the reverse, they had soldered a hinge, through which they had threaded a gold nail that tucked under a C-shaped catch.

Benita Jane (McCormick) Olson
Circa 1960

My late cousin, who I knew as Jane and was named for her mother and grandmother - Benita McGinnis and Mary Jane Gaffney - had received the brooch from her mother.  All she knew about it was that it had belonged to her grandmother.

Neither of us had ever seen anything like it before, and our questions were many.  Who made it, and why? Did the "M" stand for Mary Jane's name? Did  it stand for "Mother"? Had it been a gift from one of her four children?  Or did it stand for her married name, McGinnis, and did it come from her husband, Tom?  

As it turns out, the brooches such as this one were quite popular in the 1800s.  They were called "love tokens."

Although love tokens can take many forms and date back to Roman times, the practice of engraving a symbol of one's love began in Wales in the 15th century, when young men carved intricate designs on spoons as tokens of their love and affection for their intended.  

The tradition expanded to include coins in 17th century England and reached the height of their popularity in the United States during the Civil War.  Sailors also made them for their sweethearts as a promise of their return. Until the early 20th century, all were made by hand.  The practice continued through World War I, when soldiers made them for their mothers and girlfriends, sometimes by hand, but mostly with machinery.

Love tokens were often substituted for engagement rings, understandably so as a young lady would likely wear the brooch near her heart.  The coins either had holes punched through the top to wear on a chain, or they had hinges attached with thin bent nails to wear as a brooch. Typically, they bore the initial of the beloved, but they also could be quite ornate.  Some love tokens were engraved with names, messages or symbols and other embellishments.  

Most love tokens were made from Seated Liberty dimes or nickels.  The dimes, in particular, were the easiest to plane and engrave because of the softness of the silver.  The dimes and nickels were the most popular denominations to use, as they were less costly than quarters and dollars.  Still, these factors could not diminish the love shared by the giver and the recipient of such a heartfelt gift.

Mary Jane Gaffney
Engagement portrait, about 1885
Conneaut, Ohio

So who gave our Mary Jane her love token, and why?  The more expensive denomination of the Seated Liberty quarter suggests that it might have been more affordable for a young man to give his beloved than as a gift from a boy or girl for their mother.  The year under the hinge is 1854; could that be of any significance?  It would be less likely for one of the children to possess a coin from that date. 

Could 1854 have alluded to Thomas McGinnis' year of birth?  I have been unable to find his birth certificate. His death certificate notes he was born in 1855.  Various census records put his birth between 1855 and 1858, so it is hard to tell for sure.

Thomas McGinnis,
Engagement portrait, about 1855
Conneaut, Ohio

Thomas had run away to sea as a boy, so he could have learned how to carve love tokens as a sailor.  If in fact he was the giver, as I suspect, the "M" could have stood for Mary Jane.  The romantic in me thinks it also could have stood for McGinnis, which would become Mary Jane's new last name - and in a single initial would have signified both of them coming together as one.

I treasure this lovely and very sentimental brooch.  It is something both of my great-grandparents touched lovingly.  I marvel that something so small has endured through four generations - from Mary Jane to her daughter, Benita, to her granddaughter, Jane, and now to me. It symbolizes so much love between husband and wife, mother and child, and beyond.  I am very grateful to Jane for her special gift, and I look forward to passing it on to my own daughter, Erin, one day.

I wear Mary Jane's brooch on special occasions, Mother's Day being one of them.  I will wear it today, in honor of her marriage to Thomas on this day, May 19th, some 128 years ago.  I also will wear it tomorrow to remember my dear cousin Jane Olson, on her birthday.

As small packages go, this is the best kind: the gift that keeps on giving.

**********

Copyright ©  2013  Linda Huesca Tully

Are you a member of the Gaffney, McGinnis, McCormick, or Olson families? Share your memories and comments below.

Those Places Thursday: Gaffney House, Conneaut, Ohio

John Patrick "Jeff" Gaffney

    (1826 - 1892)

Bridget "Bridey" (Quinn) Gaffney

     (1843 - 1914)

Thomas Eugene McGinnis

     (1855 - 1927)

Mary Jane (Gaffney) McGinnis

     (1858 - 1940)

Benita Elizabeth (McGinnis) McCormick

     (1889 - 1984)

When my great-aunt, Benita "Detty" McCormick reached the "young" age of 92, she created a scrapbook of her life.  She devoted the first pages of her scrapbook to her parents and grandparents, Thomas Eugene and Mary McGinnis; and John Patrick and Bridget Gaffney.  

One of those pages contained a photograph (below) of the Gaffney House in Conneaut, Ashtabula County, Ohio.  Located at 58 Mill Street, it was also known to some as the "Conneaut House." The house belonged to Mary Jane's own parents, John Francis "Jeff" and Bridget (Quinn) Gaffney.  

John and Bridget were Irish potato famine immigrants to America.  Both were from County Roscommon- he from Drumbrick and she from Boyle.  Did they know each other before crossing the Atlantic? It's hard to say, but the towns are about five miles apart, so it is possible.  It appears, though, that they married in America. 

John and Bridget lived for a time in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, where Mary Jane, their eldest child, was born and baptized in 1858.  They arrived in Conneaut sometime between 1858 and the spring of 1860, when their second daughter, Margaret, was born.  

The United States 1860 Census indicates that John was a "peddler" who owned property in Conneaut valued at $300. The equivalent today would be over $8,000, an impressive amount of money for that era.  Aunt Detty believed he had been a traveling linen salesman, but it seems plausible that he would have sold other textiles as well, such as cotton.  The demand for cotton was far greater than for linen at this time, due to shortages of flax (needed to make linen) and the rising popularity of cotton as a less expensive and more versatile material.  The demand increased dramatically with the advent of the Civil War and the need for cotton to make soldier's uniforms and medical supplies.  These factors must have contributed a decent income to the Gaffney family and made it possible for John and Bridget to afford such a large home as the Gaffney House. 

The house apparently was big enough to house John and Bridget's growing family - they would have 10 children in all - plus additional rooms to rent to the young men who worked on the nearby Nickel Plate Railroad.  

Page from Benita (McGinnis) McCormick's scrapbook

The entry in my Aunt Detty's scrapbook (shown above), describes the Gaffney House:

The Gaffney House, famous Conneaut, Ohio landmark patronized especially by Nickle (sic) Plate railroad men.  About 1880 the hotel was the home of more than 30 unmarried young men under the age of 27 years. + The cross on the addition indicates the window to the "Priest's Room" built by my grandfather John Francis Gaffney to accommodate the circuit priest who came when he could to minister to the growing Irish-American population.

John and Bridget had no idea that one of those young men would become more than just a "renter" to them in the years to come.

**********

Copyright ©  2013  Linda Huesca Tully

Are you a member of the Gaffney, McGinnis, or McCormick families? Share your memories and comments below.

Sentimental Sunday: To the Mothers in Our Lives

Happy Mother's Day 
    Feliz Día de las Madres 
       Bonne Fête des Mères 
           Buona Festa della Mamma
       Hyvää äitienpäivää
    Lá na Máthar Shona ar
       

No matter what your language, "Mother" is the sweetest word of all.

Margaret McCoy
Born Ireland (abt. 1823 - abt. 1857)

Catherine O'Grady
Born Waterford, Ireland (abt. 1835 - 1901)

Adela Baron
Born San Francisco, California (1862 - 1917)

Concepción Celaya
Born Sonora, Mexico (1830 - after 1910)

Alice Gaffney McGinnis
Born Conneaut, Ohio (1895 - 1963)

María Angela Catalina Perrotin
Born Orizaba, Veracruz, Mexico (1893 - 1998)

Emanuela Sannella
Born Accadia, Puglia, Italy (1867 - 1966)

Mary Jane Gaffney
Born Milwaukee, Wisconsin (1858 - 1940)

María Amaro
Born Orizaba, Veracruz, Mexico (1872 - 1970)

Selma Justina Kangas
Born Vasa, Finland (1894 - 1949)

Patricia Ann Fay
Born Stuart, Iowa (1925 - 1997)

Sara Ellen Riney
Born Rineyville, Kentucky (1884 - 1938)

Joan Joyce Schiavon
Born Chicago, Illinois (1928 - 1987)

Linda Huesca
Born Chicago, Illinois (19--   )

Happy Mother's Day to all the wonderful mothers in our lives!

Above, "Happy Mother's Day" in the languages of our ancestors, in order of appearance:  English, Spanish, French, Italian, Finnish, and Irish.

Copyright ©  2013  Linda Huesca Tully

Are you a member of the Baron, Celaya, Fay, Gaffney, Huesca, Kangas, McCoy, O'Grady, Perrotin, Sannella, Schiavon, or Tully families? Share your memories and comments below.

Ralph Schiavon - Part Three: Halcyon Days

Ralph Schiavon


Halcyon Days


(Third of a four part series about my maternal great-grandfather)

A self-made man, my grandfather, Ralph Schiavon, was not afraid of anyone.  Not even "Scarface" Al Capone.


In the late 1920s, Ralph was working as a supervisor for the Internal Revenue Service and lived on the South Side of Chicago with his wife Alice and their two small children, Tom and Joan (my mother), when two of Capone's henchmen summoned him to the mobster's infamous headquarters in the Windy City at the Lexington Hotel.  There, he was asked to help a paesan, "Mr. Capone" to straighten out the books," for which he would receive a handsome recompense.  As Ralph sat there listening to the men, his mind was racing.


As an employee of the IRS, he surely was aware that Al Capone was under scrutiny for tax evasion.  Though Capone ran a number of illegal gambling and bootlegging operations, he had made sure that all his assets and properties were not in his name but in those of his front men.  He had never filed an income tax return or declared any taxable income or assets.

Ralph knew he was in a delicate situation.  The request for an IRS agent's help was brazen enough, but the thought that he should regard Capone as his paesan might have rankled him, too.  While he knew there could be consequences for saying no to Al Capone or his henchmen, he was a moral man with a strong sense of integrity that was far greater than any fear he might have felt.  Thanking the men for the offer, he tactfully said he could not be of much help and was astounded when he was dismissed summarily.  He hurried home, looking over his shoulder all the way for fear of reprisals against him or his loved ones, but fortunately nothing ever happened.  He must have breathed an enormous sigh of relief in 1932, when Capone was convicted of tax evasion.


Like many Americans at the time, Ralph's job fell victim to the Great Depression, and he and Alice found themselves in dire financial straits.  To ease the burden, they sent my mother, then two years old, to live with Alice's mother and maiden aunt until they were able to get back on their feet some four years later.  It was as though history was repeating itself, as Emanuela Schiavone had sent her own toddler Ralph to live with two maiden ladies so many years before in San Sossio.


Ralph had always been resourceful and was able to find a job at a grocery store.  Though it was a better place than most to work during such hard times when many people were starving, it just helped the family get by.


Still regretting that he had not been able to attend college, Ralph determined to not let this happen to his youngest brother, Leo, who had shown great academic promise.  He mustered enough money to send Leo to college, first to the University of Chicago and then to Notre Dame University in South Bend, Indiana.  This was no small effort, considering he began the endeavor around 1928 and was somehow able to see it through to Leo's graduation from Notre Dame in 1932, in the midst of the Great Depression.  It must have taken a great deal of sacrifice, but Ralph loved his brother very much and believed Leo was worth it.


It was a proud day for the Schiavones and indeed, the entire town of Revere when Leo graduated from Notre Dame cum laude.  Leo was the first Italian-American from the town to graduate from college, and the mayor threw a party at City Hall and invited everyone to celebrate the accomplishment.  Leo went on to earn an advanced law degree at DePaul University in 1934 and was hired by a Chicago law firm, eventually repaying his brother in full.


Ralph established his own practice as a tax consultant with an office at the Title & Trust Building at 111 West Washington Street in downtown Chicago.  As things improved, he and Alice took a vacation to Cuba.  Upon their return in 1933, they brought Joan, then five years old, back home to live with them again.


On May 4, 1935, Vito Schiavone, Ralph's father, afflicted for several years with arteriosclerosis and kidney disease, suffered a cerebral hemorrhage.  He died exactly one week later at the family home at 33 Eastern Avenue in Revere.  Ralph brought his mother, Emanuela, to live with him and his family for a short time afterward.  She later returned to Revere and moved in with Ralph's sister, Filomena Schiavone  Scicchitani and her husband, Tommasso.  She stayed with them for most of the remainder of her life.  Filomena herself would die an untimely death a few years later on October 23, 1941.  That evening, she had just received an award at an American Legion banquet for her involvement in local Democratic politics and was returning to her seat when she collapsed of a cerebral hemorrhage, as had her father.  Her death came as a terrible shock to her brothers, who loved her dearly.


My mother worshipped her father and fondly remembered his tenderness to her as a child.  In contrast to his own stern upbringing, Ralph never spanked her or Tom.  Not long after Joan had been brought back home, she broke a favorite mirror of her mother's.  Alice was furious and sent Joan to her room to wait for a spanking from her father home when he got home from work.  My mother later described the incident in her autobiography:


"All afternoon, I worried.  My father had such BIG HANDS! 'This will be some spanking,' I thought.  The hours passed, the front door opened, and there was my Daddy...so BIG.  He had a smile on his face, which quickly disappeared as my Mother told him of my misbehavior.  A stern, serious expression crept across his face, and I stood there, grasping my Mother's dress hem, trying to disappear behind her.


"My father grunted, 'Come with me.'  I followed as slowly as possible, cringing inside with fear.  We entered the bathroom; my Father closed the door, turned to me, and asked if I was sorry for what I had done.  In a small voice, I replied that I was very sorry and promised never to do it again.


"In the meantime, my Mother, waiting outside in the hall, was having second thoughts about my punishment.  A smile appeared on my Father's face, and he plotted with me to clap his big hands together, and I would scream as loud as I could. . . My Mother called out for my Father to stop spanking me.  We opened the door with big smiles, I in my Father's arms.  From that time on, there was a special bond between (us), as through my life, (he) tried to shield me from harm."

My great-grandfather, Thomas McGinnis, built this home on
South Drexel Avenue for his family in 1913; after he
and my great-grandmother Mary Jane died, my grandparents
Ralph and Alice Schiavon moved their young family here.

When Alice's mother, Mary Jane (Gaffney) McGinnis died in the summer of 1940, the Schiavons moved into the McGinnis family home on South Drexel Avenue, on Chicago's South Side, where they lived for several years before moving to a larger home on Saint Lawrence Avenue.  Ralph loved these homes with their large gardens, and he spent long hours digging out weeds, planting flowers, and trimming hedges.  He loved working with his hands.  Maybe he felt connected to his roots, especially his Sannella grandparents, who had been gardeners by trade in San Sossio.

Ralph Schiavon in his garden on
Saint Lawrence Avenue, Chicago.

Ralph traveled back to Italy at the end of World War II and was shocked by the poverty and devastation there.  The large numbers of children who had been orphaned during the war especially moved him.  He befriended a young priest, Father Piccinini, who ran an orphanage in Southern Italy, and he began sending funds to assist this and a number of other postwar relief efforts.  


In 1946, the Schiavon's eldest child, Ralph Thomas, known as "Tom," married Angelina Ciliberto, a strikingly lovely brunette from Iacurso, Calabria, Italy.  They went on have four children:  Ralph, Alice, Michele, and Paul.  


Alice had taken up several hobbies that included doll and stamp collecting.  Over the years, she also had become an avid collector of fine antiques.  Ralph supported her in these interests, and he helped her open an antique and gift gallery, Chatham Galleries.  In 1950, he sent Alice and Joan to Europe on the luxury liner Queen Mary on an antique buying trip.


While Alice was delighted at the prospect of going off to Europe to hunt for new treasures, Joan, 21 at the time, balked at the idea.  She envisioned herself trapped for months among a boring melange of older people and even older antiques.  Ralph saw the trip as an opportunity for his sheltered daughter to be exposed to a rich world of culture, tradition, and history.  He arranged for my mother and my grandmother to stay in the finest staterooms and hotels and tour the most beautiful cities on the continent.  It would be the trip of a lifetime for my mother, who returned to New York from Cherbourg, France on the cruise liner Queen Elizabeth I as a wiser and more worldly young woman, thanks in large part to her father's vision and encouragement.


Sometime during the 1950s, the governor of Illinois appointed Ralph as State Bail Bondsman Inspector.  He continued his tax consulting business, commuting by train daily to his office in the Loop downtown. He also joined the American Legion and the Swedish Club, where he held court with colleagues and clients alike and often hosted large banquets for them.


As much as he loved eating out, he was an equally accomplished cook who enjoyed inviting people over for his memorable Italian dishes, which he had learned to cook from his mother.  This was quite a godsend for all concerned, as Alice was uninterested in cooking and gladly relinquished kitchen duties to her gourmet husband while she used her artistic talents to decorate their home lavishly and create elegant table settings.  The house overflowed with family and guests on holidays. Thanksgiving in particular called for Ralph's signature turkey with a rich dressing of mascarpone and other Italian cheeses, Genoa salami, golden raisins, and pine nuts.  His daughter-in-law, Angelina Ciliberto Schiavon (my Uncle Tom's wife - and my godmother), once remarked that on these occasions, it was hard to tell by evening's end which was more stuffed - the turkey or the guests.

My precious mother and grandparents, Joan, Alice, and
Ralph Schiavon, Chicago, Illinois, early 1960s.

One day in 1954, a handsome young man walked through the door of Alice and Joan's shop to buy a birthday card for his mother back in Mexico City.  He and his landlady had been out shopping, and the landlady, having met Joan Schiavon on a previous visit to the store, dared the young man to go inside to ask her for help.  He and Joan were immediately attracted to one another, and they began taking long walks around the block together.  Walks turned into movies and dinners, and soon the young couple's relationship deepened into love.


My grandfather, still protective of his daughter, was not happy when the young man, Gilbert Huesca, came to the house to ask him for Joan's hand on the Fourth of July, her birthday.  He had assumed his daughter would marry an Italian, just as her brother tom had a few years earlier.  He looked down sternly at Gil.  "Do you have any insanity in your family?" he asked.


The man who would become my father looked squarely back.  "No," he smiled.  "Do you?"


Ralph knew he had met his match.  Had he remembered that he, too, had married a non-Italian?  He gave his permission and began planning a large wedding with a guest list that would fill the church with family and all his clients and professional contacts.

Gilbert and Joan Huesca in their first apartment,
Chicago, November 1, 1954.

My mother, who had wanted an intimate wedding, proved to be equally as willful as her father.  She and my father eloped one afternoon during his lunch break.  The date was August 19, 1954.  That evening they sent a telegram to Ralph and Alice, who were vacationing in Florida.  Though they must have been surprised by the news, they took it graciously and sent the happy couple a lovely floral arrangement with their congratulations and best wishes.


In 1959, Ralph and Alice bought a two-story residence on South Luella Avenue.  They moved into the upstairs flat and invited my parents to move our family into the flat below.  I was fairly young at the time but recall being greeted on moving day with a marvelous swing and slide set in the back yard, along with a yellow rectangular wading pool for my sisters and me.


Ralph kept his lawns in pristine condition.  Both front and back lawns were bordered by tidy boxwood shrubs and colorful flowerbeds of snapdragons, roses, petunias, geraniums, and birds-of-paradise (my grandmother's favorite flower).  He also had an herb garden with sweet basil, Italian parsley, and oregano that he used in his wonderful Italian dishes.  He was always telling us to keep off the grass, yet he seemed to understand that as children we needed to run and play, and he indulged us in the way that only a loving grandfather could.


My grandparents doted on our cousins and us.  They bought my sisters and me a large Swiss-made child-size surrey with a pink-and-white fringe on top that seated four.  We used to pedal it down the block or to the park with our parents or lead neighborhood parades on Flag Day and the Fourth of July.  Though he was not one to fuss over children, Ralph loved each of us, his grandchildren, dearly. His letters to my mother during the last decade of his life reflected his pride in all eight of us as we grew into young men and women.

 My grandparents, Alice and Ralph Schiavon, with me (at age 1),
at my parent's apartment, Chicago, Thanksgiving 1956.

I have a vivid memory of one Sunday afternoon, when I ran upstairs after Mass to visit my grandparents.  My Nana Alice, who had been ill of complications from insulin-dependent diabetes, was napping, and my grandfather was sitting in his big leather club chair in the den.  He was watching a Chicago Cubs baseball game on TV and listening to a Notre Dame ball game on a small transistor radio he had up to his ear.  He motioned to me to come in, and I clambered onto his lap. 


We sat there, he and I, in awkward silence together for quite some time, he puffing occasionally on his cigar and I wondering what to say to him.  Unlike Nana, who could be the consummate playmate to her grandchildren, my Baba - that was the closest I could come to as little girl to saying the Italian Babbo, or Grandpa - was not easy to talk to, and at seven years old, I really didn't understand why.  What I did understand in some obscure way, though, was that even on the lap of that silent, enigmatic man, I felt safe and loved.


Copyright ©  2011  Linda Huesca Tully




NEXT:  Part Four - Twilight