A few men and women walked down the steps of the subway station in Boston, Massachusetts. They carried shopping bags which were filled with bread, fruit and pastries. Some of the local college students carried their notebooks as they laughed and chatted. However, a Sicilian American, Fortunato, continued to whistle one of his favorite country songs. He picked up his measuring tape and extended it a cross the wall of the subway station. Also, he took out a pencil from his pocket and wrote down the measurements on his little note pad. A teenage girl wearing a cardigan sweater, saddle shoes, and white shirt walked slowly as she glanced at Fortunato. She tapped her friend’s shoulder and said, “Hey, what do you think that guy is doing?,” as she pointed at Fortunato. Her friend responded, “ I heard that there will be murals hanging on the subway wall soon.” Fortunato’s daughter, Teresa, told me, “The murals were black and white, hand screened prints which were made of porcelain and steel,” Teresa said. “I remember my father measured the original panels. There were beautiful, hand painted murals.” These original screened prints were baked in a kiln , which are high temperature ovens,at the plant where her father had worked.    One evening, Fortunato touched the original test panels, which were going to be thrown away. He noticed the panels and immediately reached over and took the panels. He stared at the signature, which was by Lionel Barrymore. “My family still has the original panels . As a matter of fact, the test murals are hanging in my childrens’ homes,” Teresa said. Teresa is grateful that her  father salvaged them. I am glad that he did so,” Teresa said.  They are not just panels, but a significant part of history which Fortunato, Teresa, and her family will always be deeply connected to. Fortunato was not just measuring panels, but he was part of an important historical project. The passion flowed from Fortunato’s heart to his fingertips when he was involved with the project. Forty five years later, these original hand screened prints had become weathered and extremely rusty, so they had to be replaced. However, the new ones are made of polymer so that the heartwarming scenes of Boston and Massachusetts will be protected against rust.  

 

Fortunato took off his work boots, changed his shirt, and put on one of his favorite blue sweaters. “My father always wore v-kneck sweaters,” Teresa said. He turned on the television and watched the Red Sox. Teresa heard the sounds of the cheering Red Sox fans on television, put down her book, and walked into the living room. She curled up next to her father and watched the game. She remembers the special connection she felt whenever she watched the baseball game on television. “Back then, most girls were not interested in watching sports, but I loved watching sports with my dad. I remember watching the Red Sox, Patriots, and Celtics with my father,” she mentioned. It is a memory that Teresa will cherish forever. “Go, go go,!” Fortunato said as he watched his favorite players run to third base. Every Friday night, her father watched boxing on television. “That was the one sport that I did not watch with my father,” she said. Fortunato watched the boxing match alone. 

 

“What else do you remember about your father,?” I asked Teresa.   She told me that she remembers that he used to drive a car which was called an “Opal.” She will never forget that car and the fact that he had paid $ 10.00 for it back then. This was the equivalent to

$100.00 today. He drove his Opal to work, to the local store, or the Italian American club. Teresa said that her father never drove a flashy car. As a matter of fact, it really did not matter what the car looked like. Just as long as the car got him wherever he needed to go, Fortunato was happy. Her father often said that the important thing was getting to his destination.   One afternoon, Teresa climbed into one of her father’s cars. She combed her hair and zipped up her spring jacket. There was something unique about this particular car. Teresa stared down at the floor board on the passenger side of the car. She put down her snack that she had been eating and began to focus on the silvery flecks of stones, cracks in the asphalt, gum wrappers, and other interesting items. Also, she enjoyed the feel of the fresh air. Teresa explained that her father’s old car had a hole in the floor board. “ I had to keep my feet off the floor, so I sat in the car with my feet curled up,” Teresa said. Sometimes, Teresa would get scared. She started thinking, “What if I fall through that hole in the floor board?.” I remember the times that I had started to think that watermelons would grow in my stomach if I swallowed the watermelon pits. Also, I remembered how much I splashed around in the bath tub as soon as my mother would pull out the drain in the tub. I thought I was going to go down the drain. Teresa said the same thing. She said that the possibility of falling through the hole in the floor board was the same as a child thinking he or she would go down the bathtub drain. The other unique thing is that cars back then did not have seat belts. “My dad’s cars were legendary,” Teresa said.  

 

Teresa’s special memories did not end there. After watching the game, she combed her hair and put on her favorite sneakers. She walked across the street to her maternal grandparents’ house.   Since her maternal grandfather was born in the Lazio region of Italy, he always stayed close to his Italian traditions. She walked into her grandparents’ house, extended her arms, and gave her grandmother a huge hug. “Where’s noni?” Teresa asked.   “He is in his workshop,” her nonna said. “What’s he doing?,” Teresa asked. Her nonna turned up the volume on the radio and said, “Nonni is fixing the wooden leg on one of our kitchen chairs” . Suddenly, Teresa saw her nonna holding her rosary beads. She touched each bead and sipped her tea. The table was filled with fruit and cookies. A few minutes later, her nonni took a break from his woodwork project and sat in the kitchen. “I finally fixed the wobbly leg on the chair,” her grandfather said. “My grandfather was a carpenter by trade,” Teresa said. A few moments later, he put on his favorite opera music. “Religion and Opera were woven into my grandparents’ lives," Teresa said.

 

My heart was warmed by Teresa’s stories. I wondered what the holidays were like at her house. “One Thanksgiving morning, Teresa helped her mother set the table. “Make sure there is room for the ravioli,” her mother yelled from the kitchen. Teresa moved the bread, salad, and salt to make room for the ravioli. This reminded me of my house. We always eat the traditional Thanksgiving dinner, with stuffing, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, stuffed mushrooms, pumpkin pie and fresh bread. My mother always referrs to our turkey as “Tom,” or sometimes we called our turkey, “Tomasso.” My mother would always say, “I have to check on Tomasso,” or “I wonder how Tomasso is doing.”  However, we always have ravioli or lasagna with our turkey. Also, there is a big bowl of broccoli rabe, roasted peppers, and a huge antipasto platter. Teresa’s house was similar. “We always had Italian food with our Thanksgiving meals,” she said. “Sometimes, we had an Italian side dish with our traditional, American meal,” she added. 

 

Although her mother was a fantastic cook, she also worked as a stenographer in Newton, Massachusetts. She put on her black skirt, white blouse, and black shoes. After she sipped her coffee, she combed her hair and went to work. Later, she worked in the cafeteria at one of the local schools in Milford, Massachusetts. Eventually, she worked at a dress company, stitching new dresses. She sat quietly at the dress company and carefully stitched the new dresses and admired the beautiful fabric. One day, she looked at the clock and wondered what she would make for dinner that evening. Her sisters were going to visit her so they could have dinner together. As she put down the spool of thread, she touched the blue, silk fabric. The only thing she could think about that day were her sisters. “My mother always spent time with her sisters,” Teresa said. She added, “My mother and her sisters did most of the cooking for gatherings or during the holidays.” However, Teresa mentioned that her mother was an excellent, but reluctant cook. “My mother never inherited nonna’s joy of cooking," she said. Eventually, Teresa’s father started to cook later in life. “He eventually became the cook of the family,” Teresa said. Teresa’s mother was happy that he had taken over the cooking. “Be my guest,” Teresa’s mother told her father as she smiled. “She was happy to relinquish the chore of cooking.” One summer, Teresa said that she went to work with her mother. “I was an apprentice at the dress shop,” she said. Teresa was eager to learn, as she was studying fashion design in college. This was a great opportunity for her to learn how to do what Teresa referred to as “small parts, such as flaps, belts and pockets,” she said.  “Good morning Teresa, how are you doing today?,” many of the workers said as they walked past her. “I am fine thanks,” she said. Teresa was always respected and greeted warmly. Teresa feels that she was treated well because her mom’s coworkers respected her as well.

 

One evening, Teresa and her cousins rode their bicycles. They touched the thin, red and white, plastic fringe which was attached to each handle bar of their bicycles. “Ding, Ding, Ding,” echoed through the yard. “My bell is louder!” one cousin said. “Hey, let’s ride our bikes through the alley,” Teresa’s cousins said. “Okay,” they all agreed. They lined up their bicycles side by side. “Ready, set, go…!” they shouted. The tires of their bicycles touched the crimson and gold leaves which had fallen on to the ground. The November breeze carried the scent of roasted pork which was coming from their grandmother’s house. Teresa has fond memories of her childhood because she always had a lot of kids to play with. She remembered that they could not ride their bikes in her nonna’s driveway because her Uncle Joseph (“Jep”) was always working on a project with her father. “Jep was my father’s brother,” Teresa said. “Where is the wrench?” Jep asked Fortunato. “Here it is, let me help you,” Fortunato said.   Sometimes they would see pieces of metal in the driveway, or they would see Fortunato welding pieces of metal. The driveway was filled with Fortunato and Jep’s projects. Sometimes Uncle Jep tinkered with mechanical projects or repaired something. Teresa told me that she loved her Uncle Jep very much. “He was like a second father to me,” she said. “Jep, do you want something to drink?” her Aunt May would ask Jep. Teresa’s Uncle Jep was married to her Aunt May. She had five children and since they were so close, Teresa felt that she had 5 siblings rather than 5 cousins. Since her Aunt May had five children, Teresa always had “a lot of playmates,” she said. “Also, I enjoyed spending time with my brother,” she added. There were about 30 kids in the yard. A couple of kids rode their bicycles to the alley, while a few other kids played a game called “Make Believe.” A few other kids sat on the lawn and laughed. Teresa’s vivid childhood memories are engraved in her mind and heart. I laughed when Teresa mentioned some of the nicknames in her family which were Jep, Forti (this was Fortunato’s nickname, as well as Fudgie, or Uncle Fudge) Rolly, Fuzzer, and Fats.

 

She continued to take me on a journey back in time. Her aunt and grandmother lived across the street from Teresa. “They lived in a duplex in Newton, Massachusetts,” she told me. The scent of coffee traveled from her nonna’s kitchen window. Teresa’s mother, aunts, and grandmother were talking about the upcoming, holiday season. “I bought the hazelnuts already for the cookies,” one aunt said. “I have enough flour and I bought some of the apricot filling…” another aunt mentioned. One of the other aunts asked, “Are you and Fortunato going to plan the Christmas party again for the plant?” Teresa’s mother said, “Yes, of course. We do it every year.” Teresa told me that her Italian American Christmas was special because she remembered the huge, Christmas holiday party for the plant where her father had worked as a welder. Her parents were in charge of the party. Teresa shared her memories with me and I was able to envision her house during the Christmas season.

 

Teresa watched her parents carrying the wrapping paper and bows. Her parents picked up a model airplane and wrapped it in green paper and a gold bow. Fortunato picked up a shopping bag which was filled with a basketball, soccer ball, toy cars, and a doll. She remembered her parents wrapping gifts for the workers’ children. She mentioned that every child received a toy during the Christmas party. Christmas was not just about the food and festivities. Most importantly, the holiday Christmas party meant seeing the smiling faces of the workers’ children. “The Italian American hall is going to play Tom & Jerry cartoons for the Christmas party,” Fortunato told Teresa. Her eyes lit up as soon as she heard about the cartoons. The garland, lights, and ornaments dazzled as her mother continued to wrap the toys for the children. However, Teresa remembered the “togetherness” during the holiday party.

 

No matter how many icicles formed on the porch, or how quickly the branches of the trees moved with the wind, every Christmas, Teresa and her family went to get a Christmas tree. “Our trees were never perfect,” Teresa said, “but my dad cut some of the branches off the tree, cut holes in the trunk, and placed each branch into the trunk. This was his way of filling the spaces in the tree. After he placed the branches into the holes in the trunk, they put the tree against the wall, to hide some of the holes that were in the trunk so no one would notice. Fortunato made an imperfect tree into a beautiful one. Teresa will always remember her family Christmas.   Additionally, Teresa remembered the nativity at her house. She remembered making plastic paris figurines. Sometimes she made a cowboy or some other type of popular figurine or icon, not just at Christmas, but anytime she felt like doing so.  She and her brother placed the figurines in the nativity each year. “I will always remember all of the fish that we had eaten on Christmas Eve,” she said.

 

One night, she sipped her hot lemonade, which was a drink that her father made over the stove with lemon, sugar and water. “He used tons of sugar,” she said. After she  put on her gloves, scarf, and hat, she waited anxiously near the front door. Fortunato put on his jacket and opened the door. “Okay, let’s go and look at the beautiful lights in the neighborhood,” he said.   Teresa and her brother climbed into Fortunato’s car. Although the leather seats of the car were cold, their hearts were warm as their eyes glowed with joy.   “Ooooh, look dad,” Teresa said, as she pointed towards the Santa sitting in his sleigh on one of the lawns. “Look over there!” Teresa added. There were lights in the shape of a bow. “Wowwww!” her brother added. This memory stayed in her heart. 

 

Later in life, while Teresa lived in Kansas City, Missouri, she had 16 trees decorated inside her house. “My mother helped me to decorate,” she added. They looked through the boxes of Christmas decorations and removed the wrapping from a few Santas. Her husband James pulled out the box of lights and slowly unraveled each strand of lights.   Many people admired her home during the holiday home tour. The lights glistened as the silver garland dazzled on each branch of the tree. Teresa’s love of Christmas and decorating her own home goes back to her childhood memories of admiring the lights and decorations. Also,  the home tour was a fund raiser for a woman’s club. “Everyone who bought tickets was allowed to tour the house,” Teresa said. Once, the Chairman of the Board at her husband’s company suggested having the board meetings at their house. However, every year, Teresa explained that her friends and business associates gathered at her house for the holiday party. Everyone chatted about their families. One woman asked another woman, “How is your daughter doing?”One of the men talked about his golf game while others talked about their upcoming New Years Eve plans. Teresa’s mother talked to the guests and enjoyed the desserts. She was always at Teresa’s annual holiday party. They adored her decorations, enjoyed the delightful food, but most of all, Teresa’s friends felt loved. “We wanted to share our love with our friends and family every year,” Teresa said. After she had moved to New Jersey, she received cards in the mail. She smiled as she gently opened each envelope. “We miss your annual Christmas party,” one of her business associates said. “We really miss seeing you and Jim during the holiday season,” another friend wrote. Teresa and Jim were truly missed back in Kansas City, Missouri. It was evident that everyone longed for the sights of Teresa’s and Jim’s Christmas trees and the sound of their loving voices. Although the Christmas lights had illuminated their house back in Kansas, it was nothing compared to the lights that they had put in everyone’s hearts during the holiday season.

 

After hearing about her holidays, I wondered about the next topic, which was the subject of dating. Teresa told me about the Wednesday afternoon dances which were held at a local hall in Milford, Massachusetts while she was in junior high school. Also, she mentioned that the high school dances were held on Friday nights at the Lakeview Ballroom.  Teenagers from different towns gathered to dance and visit with their friends. “Things were a lot different when I dated,” she said. She explained that she often went out with a group of friends or another couple. As she told me about the dances, I envisioned her house as she got ready for the dance.

 

She put on her gray skirt and a white blouse, looked at her reflection in the long, rectangular mirror and combed her hair. She appreciated the outfit, which was a hand me down from one of her cousins. “I made my own clothes since I was 15 years old. Also, I received hand me downs from my cousins,” Teresa said. Her hair was shiny and stylish as she teased her hair just a bit. “Honk, honk,” her father beeped as he waited in  the driveway. . Back then, the parents drove their kids to the dances. “There was only one car per family back then and teenagers did not have their own cars,” Teresa explained.. Everyone was chatting and dancing. The music was intertwined with laughter as it travelled through the hall and into the parking lot, “Hi Fortunato,” a friend of the family said to Fortunato as he drove past his car in the parking lot. “Hey, how are you? How is your wife?,” Fortunato responded as he rolled down his window a bit further. “My father was very approachable,” Teresa told me. Therefore, it was easy for his friends and Teresa’s friends  to talk to him. The young, handsome man named James danced with Teresa. He smiled as he danced with her. “I knew James since I was 11 years old, “Teresa told me.   Also, she mentioned that he is 1 ½ years older than her and was able to drive her when they went out. However, Teresa recalled one evening when James seemed a little nervous. He tucked in his shirt, combed his hair, and cleaned the spot of mud off his casual shoes. “Every Wednesday night, we went to a ballroom to dance while I was in middle school. However, when I was in high school, we went to a bigger ballroom,” she told me. Since she grew up in a blue collar town, the dances were very casual. However, there was a very special dance which Teresa remembers. She came home from school and went into her nonna’s kitchen. “Nonna, guess what? I am going to be in the Heart Fund Queen’s Court at school,” Teresa shouted with excitement.  Her nonna hugged her and smiled. A couple of days later, Teresa’s mom was speaking to a friend of hers. “I know the perfect dress for Teresa. I will stop by tomorrow to show it to you. Teresa sipped her hot lemonade and got excited when she heard the door bell ring. “I’ll get it mom,” she said. Teresa opened the door and looked at her mom’s friend who was holding a princess length dress. Teresa’s eyes lit up and she said, “Woww! Is this for me?” Her mom’s friend said, “Yes, I thought you would like it. It is the perfect dress for you.”   As soon as Teresa tried on the dress, she twirled around in front of the mirror. “I remember that I felt like Cinderella,” she said.

 

She explained that a few years later, she married James at Sacred Heart Church in Milford, Massachusetts. They had their wedding reception at the same ballroom where the school dances were held. “Since Teresa was only 20 years old, she remembered her father signing the papers so she could marry James. I think that Teresa was blessed with a beautiful and dainty name. However, her family always called her “Terry.” Around the age of 20, she began to introduce herself to everyone as “Terry.” She went to functions or even the local market, smiled, and said, “Hello, it is nice to meet you. My name is Terry.   Her husband was always known as “James” at school, but his mother or other family members at home would refer to him as “Jimmy.” However, around the age of 20, he became known as “Jim.”

 

Jim went into the army reserves at a military facility in the Boston area. There was a period of time in which James and Fortunato raised tropical fish to earn extra money. “Jim, the man at the pet store needs a few tropical fish. He wants to see us at 4pm today,” Fortunato said.   Jim looked into the tank of blue and yellow fish to decide which ones to give to the man at the pet store. Terry explained that Jim and her father raised the tropical fish and sold the fish to local pet stores. The pet stores sold the fish to the public.

 

Years later, Jim climbed the corporate ladder and became the CFO of a large corporation. Although Jim and Terry had lived in several cities during Jim’s career, she remained close to her family. She remembers Jim carrying fresh bread through the airport during his business trips. Some of his coworkers caught on to this and they started to do the same thing.   It was a humorous situation. Can you imagine, that fresh bread with crispy crust being hidden in his suitcase under his business shirts or in his briefcase? One of the security guards at the airport rolled his eyes and smiled. “I have the feeling those guys are up to something, but they look harmless,”   he said, jokingly.

 

Terry mentioned her mother in law. “She loved to cook and made delicious fried cookies,” she said. Her mother in law and father in law were Lithuanian and Irish, so she enjoyed their traditions as well. Terry was blessed with a loving mother in law. “What type of dessert do you want tonight?,” she asked her one night on the phone. Terry’s mother in law made foods that she knew Terry would enjoy. Sometimes she cooked pasta dishes or other traditional meals. “She made as many things as possible that I liked,” she said. Her mother in law has a heart of gold. Terry’s mother in law is a blessing in Terry’s life, just as her mother in law is blessed to have Terry’s as a daughter in law.

 

“How do you keep the Italian traditions alive at your house?” I asked. She told me that she has more than one nativity set for her grandchildren. This stems back to her fond memories of her parents’ nativity set. Although she no longer has the plaster Paris figurines, she has a beautiful nativity set. “We’ve upgraded our nativity set,” she  chuckled. “It is an Italian nativity set, which is called a Fontinini,” she said. The Fontinini  is a beautiful nativity set which is unbreakable, as Terry described. Her grandchildren pick up the figurines and play with them every Christmas. However, one of her nativity sets is for decoration only, as it is delicately crafted and is “for the eyes only,” as Terry mentioned. Additionally, Terry used to make nativity pieces out of felt and cardboard so her own children could play with them as much as they wanted. They sat at the table or on the couch. This brought much joy to Terry and her children.

 

Most importantly, she remembered learning the importance of loving each other, especially her children. “I did everything to make my children happy,” she said. Terry remembers learning this from her own parents. From the bottom of her heart, she told me that it does not matter if you are rich, middle class, lower middle class, struggling, or poor. If you feel love, you can get through anything,” she said. Terry is most proud of this.  Although Terry’s father passed away, her mother is still a feisty woman. She lives in the apartment which Terry’s brother owns and often attends parties and other events with Terry’s sister. He and his wife check on her, take her out, and take good care of her. Also, Terry’s loving sister spends a lot of time with her. “My sister spends 3 to 4 days a week with her. She is my mother’s companion,” Terry said. They all take care of Terry’s mom. As a matter of fact, Terry, her brother, sister and sister in law share the responsibility of making decisions which will help her mother. This is the true meaning of being a “family,” which are the unselfish acts, tenderness, understanding, support, love, and always being there to help each other.

 

Terry shared a final message with me. She said, “The real treasures in life are family and friends. Without them, we have nothing of value.”

 

Since I have been surrounded by wonderful friends and family and I have met hundreds of caring and sincere people while I was writing this book, Terry helped me to realize that I am rich with friends and family. They are people who encourage me to write, share kind and loving emails with me, and always welcome me, no matter what the occasion may be. I truly am blessed to know Terry, as well as hundreds of other genuine people. I can sense their love every day. Terry’s life is a treasure chest, filled with family gatherings, laughter, love, and tender moments.

  

Most of all, I remembered Terry’s quote, which was: