As you can see, I haven't forgotten the man who brought me into the world (with my mother, of course), nearly 77 years ago, a mere one year and eleven months after the end of World War II...
(My now-deceased brother, Richard, was born on Columbus Day, October 12, 1942.)
I remember the area of East Harlem (E. 116th Street, to be exact) and not all that far from New York's "Hell's Kitchen", where my father eventually met and married my mother, in 1941, just after the start of WWII.
What do I remember about that section of East Harlem? Well, for one thing, that's the area that my grandmother and grandfather lived until my granddad passed away in 1956. Both my grandparents were born in the mid 1880s in Italy before emigrating to America...
Every time us youngsters visited them, or they visited us in the Bronx, my grandpa would give us kids a beautiful silver dollar! I wish the dickens I still had that real money safely put away in my "piggy bank". Who knows what they would be worth today??
For those who might know something about East Harlem, it had a good-sized Italian population at the time and with that came the annual Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel... And, yes, I do remember the parades -- and the food! -- honoring the Mother of Our Lord...
I also remember my dad telling us about some of the "gangs" he hung around with and relayed to us that some of his "friends" ended up in prison or "rubbed out" by the mob!
One of the things that saved my dad from the same fate, was the Civilian Conservation Corps, better known as the C.C.C., started under the new Roosevelt administration.
Believe it or not, my father rode horses and was an aid to the captain of a detachment, in either Wyoming or Montana, after all these years I'm not sure which state. I do know that he enjoyed the experience from the way he talked about his adventures, now whether he embellished the stories or not, I don't know. But if he did, so what!!
I'm also not sure how long he served in the C.C.C., but it kept him off those deadly streets of E. Harlem for a while, as well as sending some of his meager earnings back to his mom to help with living expenses, etc. After all, we're talking about the "great" depression era...
Back in the latter part of the 1930s, my dad and some of his buddies formed a singing group called the "Melrahs" -- Harlem spelled backwards! I still have an a cappella recording of my dad -- pretty smooth, pretty cool!
My dad never served in WWII, but he did have some unusual skills that helped in the war effort, at least that's what he told us down through the years. So, in his own way -- he served too!
I guess I could write a book here, but suffice to say, I still pray for my dad, daily, as well as offering my Masses up for the repose of his fatherly soul!
Even though both my dad and my mom are gone, I'm still trying to fulfill the Fourth Commandment to Honor Thy Father and Thy Mother...
I do sincerely hope that someday I'll get to see my dad -- and my mom -- again, after my time is up in this vale of tears.
R.I.P., dad. I love you!
Pray for strength and honor!
Viva Cristo Rey! Bl. Fr. Miguel Pro, Fr. Emil Kapaun and Fr. Vincent Capodanno, pray for us...
St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle...
Gene DeLalla
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank you for your comment.