52 Ancestors Week 23: A Place That Matters

 From Amy Johnson Crow: Week 23:

The theme for Week 23 is “A Place That Matters.” Locations are vital to family history research, not only in the records they create, but the memories they hold. What is a location that is significant in your family history? Is it an ancestral home town, a place of worship, a special vacation spot? 

San Pietro a Maida? That's one place.

        There are so many places in my family history that matter to me and I've talked about many of them here in the blog. We've discussed the Italian towns of Gesualdo and San Pietro a Maida quite a bit. In fact, the more I talk about them, the more I actually want to go there. Who wouldn't want to see a couple medieval castles?! Of course we've also talked about the city of Haverhill many times. I mean that's what this blog's title is a reference to. For those who don't know I named it "All Roads Lead to Haverhill" because many branches of my family tree converge on that one city in Essex county, Massachusetts.  Not to be outdone I've also talked about Haverhill's neighbor to the east, Newburyport. My family had a boat in Salisbury for many years and it's where my grandfather Robert was born. All of these places would make for a great blog topic. But I think I'm missing probably the most important place of all. While I was born in Lawrence, Mass. I was raised in Salem, New Hampshire.

Home sweet home

    Salem has always been an interesting town. It's about halfway between Boston, Massachusetts and Manchester, New Hampshire. Since it sits right on the border, the town gets a lot of traffic from northeastern Massachusetts and all points north. The town has always been a rather unique blend of rural and urban and I think that's why my parents built a house here and raised a family in the mid 1970s.

    They grew up in nearby Haverhill and Newburyport and wanted to get away from the city life while still remaining relatively close to friends and family in those two cities.

    I can't say I blame them. Growing up it was nice to be able to visit my grandma Ollie and her sisters in Haverhill from time to time. Haverhill is a great place to visit but there's something to be said about a place you call home. I was very fortunate that they were so close by because my other grandparents lived in Raymond, NH for the longest time and we saw them once in a blue moon. I grew up with my dad's maternal side and they all lived within driving distance of Haverhill. Italians tend to stay near family. It's a thing!

    Of course being close to family isn't the only reason why Salem is a special town to me. While my parents were busy working, my brother and I were taken care of by an older couple that lived near the junior high. Peter and Mary Matorian were basically the third set of grandparents my brother and I had growing up.

    After school I'd visit them and Mary would often have a plate of grape leaves ready for me to take home. I can't say they survived the trip home. Sometimes they did. Sometimes they didn't. The temptation to eat them on the car ride home was great because she made the best grape leaves ever and as of June 4th, 2026 I have yet to find any restaurant that can match her quality. Some came close. Others/ not so much.

    As my brother and I grew up we still found the time to visit Pete and Mary.  I would often visit them after school or after cross country practice since they lived pretty close to the junior high and high school. They were a great couple with many stories to tell and to this day whenever we drive by their street I often find myself looking down their road and seeing their old house. Sure it was repainted and was remodeled but the memories within those walls last a lifetime.

Soaking wet graduation picture. Lovely.

        Salem is also the place where I got an education and I was very fortunate in that both Peter and Mary saw me off to college in the late 1990s. They were always very proud of the education my brother and I received. Though, they didn't really like sitting out in the rain on Friday, June 13th, 1997 to watch me graduate. Wow. Has it been almost twenty-nine years since I graduated? Time flies.

        On the non genealogy side of things, it's the place where I made a ton of friends. I still remember going through the field behind my house to go to a friend's house.  I may have discussed those adventures. Old man Duston owned the land and let's just say he was not pleased when he saw us going through his field. He was one of those old men who'd constantly watch over the neighborhood and to this day when I walk down the streets that used to be his property I feel like I'm being watched. I feel like I might need a proton pack. Just in case.

    Salem means more to me than just memories. It's a great place to build new memories. My family and I take my nephews out to the places we used to visit from time to time--provided that they're still around of course. When they were little we'd take them to the elementary school playground we used to play in and we've even seen the high school I graduated from. We've made new memories at the various restaurants around town and new memories at the old homestead too. There's so much you can say about the place you grew up in. It's home. What else can you say?

    Of course these aren't the only reasons why Salem matters to me. I've made a ton of friends there and I've called the place home for almost fifty years. I've seen the town change and while it has become a bit more urban in recent years the heart of the town remains the same. Are the changes for the better? That's for everyone to decide on their own and if they like change or not.  I do miss certain people and places in town of course. But it will always be home to me.

See ya next time!

Picture of San Pietro a Maida is courtesy of Google Earth.

52 Ancestors Week 22: A Name with Meaning

 From Amy Johnson Crow: Week 22:

The theme for Week 22 is “A Name With Meaning.” We genealogists work a lot with names. But sometimes, we run across a name that has special significance, either because of it being a namesake or because of what the name means. Who in your family history has a name with a special meaning?

Someone open "The Big Book of Baby Names"!

    People of Earth, I'd like to take this time to tell you all that certain names will never, ever be cool. Certain names may sound good in your head but in the end that child of yours may find themselves getting beaten up on the playground by someone brandishing a name from "Game of Thrones" or something. Be sure to think long and hard about a name while you flip through "The Big Book of Baby Names".  That child's name may define their whole future unless of course they decide to change it somewhere down the line. This has been a public service announcement from your friendly neighborhood Wikitreer.

    With that out of the way, I have come across some interesting names in my family tree. I've gotten epic sounding names like Zebulon Drew.  I may have talked about him once or twice. I can't help it! The man's name sounds like it should be the name of a front man for a Scandinavian metal band. I see the name and I can hear the hot licks in my head. Other names are just as good and sometimes you'll find someone who shares the name of an older sibling who unfortunately died young. In Italian families, it happens very often like in the case of my grandmother, Olympia Carrabs.

    Grandma Ollie was born in Haverhill, Mass in 1920 to Giuseppe Carrabs and Clementina Forgione. She was the youngest of six children who frankly were all like Sophie from "The Golden Girls". Growing up with the little old Italian ladies around was basically a laugh a minute. You visit them and you'd be smiling the whole time. I guarantee it.

    You might be thinking that "Olympia" sounds like an odd choice for a name in an Italian family and you might be right. Her sisters were named Vincenza, Josephine, Eleanor and Louise. Olympia, I've discovered, is clearly of Greek origin and references Mount Olympus, the home of the Olympian Gods like Zeus. As a given name it it evokes imagery of divinity, grandeur and excellence.

    It kind of makes sense that an Italian would use a Greek name. I mean....the Romans DID adopt the mythology.

       Like any Greek myth there is a twist to the story. Imagine my surprise when I found out that grandma Ollie was not the first Olympia. She had an older sister named Olimpia who was born in Gesualdo in the July of 1912 and passed away in January 1913. In Italy and in other places around world, it's sometimes customary to name a child after grandparents and if the child died young they would use the name over again. I've seen the same name used three or four times once. It was not pretty and in the end you really feel for the family trying to have a child with a certain name. It's so sad. But that's just how life was in southern Italy at the time. Tragedy happens and the family tries to move on as best they can.

The first Olimpia

    How I discovered her existence is pretty interesting. During one of the "Cousins Day" celebrations, my dad and his cousins were talking about their grandparents and someone asked "Did any of you ever hear about Nonnie and Nonna talk about another kid?" There were a few nods here and there. Someone thought it was a boy. Someone thought it was a girl. There was a pretty lively discussion. I just sat there and listened. One does not interrupt an Italian family and their stories.

    .I did think about it for a few days and before I could ask Mary, the distant cousin who  had been researching the town Gesualdo for years, she sent me an email with this birth record and with it was a death record.

She asked me a question "Did you know Giuseppe and Clementina had another daughter?"

    I was taken aback by the email because I had just learned about the possible missing child from my dad's cousins. I replied to Mary and told her I was just talking with the cousins about this and told her the story. I went to Antenati to see if I could learn more about the girl who died and sadly all I could find were the documents Mary found for me.

Giuseppe and Clementina

           It makes sense that Giuseppe and Clementina rarely talked about the child they lost. In those days, no one ever really talked about a child who died young unless a kid were to ask why they had a certain name. I do find it interesting that virtually all of the grandkids heard Nonnie and Nonna talk about Olimpia without mentioning her name.

    That begs the question. Did my grandmother know she was named after an older sister who died just before her parents and Jennie left for America? Possibly. I can't say and I'm not about to put words in someone's mouth!

     Not long after the first Olimpia passed away Giuseppe, Clementina and Jennie left for America and once they were in Haverhill they had three more daughters before naming the last one after their second child.

    While I don't know for sure why Giuseppe and Clementina reused the name "Olympia" once they were settled in America, I can make an educated guess. Using the name "Olympia" one more time could mean that they wanted to honor their lost child's memory. Despite being thousands of miles from where the first Olimpia was born, they probably wanted to show that they thought of the daughter they lost and how she would always be with them no matter where they are in the world. Romantic notion, I know. But it's the one I'm going with!

    Names can have multiple meanings for many people. Growing up I always thought that Grandma Ollie's name was cool and a reference to the Greek gods. And to some extent that's true. Now when I look at it I can't help but think of how my great-grandparents wanted to bring someone into the world with a pretty interesting name. I do still wonder if grandma Ollie ever knew about her older sister. I like to think that she did and maybe that's why she was so nice and caring to everyone. You never know!

See ya next time!

52 Ancestors Week 21: An Unexpected Strength

 From Amy Johnson Crow: Week 21:

The theme for Week 21 is “An Unexpected Strength.” Strength comes in many forms. Who is someone in your family tree who was strong, even though the deck was stacked against them?

When an ancestor puts all their stats in strength....

    It goes without saying that the ladies in my family have been pretty darn strong. They kind of have to be if they're going to deal with the men in their lives and societal expectations of the era in which they lived in.  Of course I'm not just talking about my grandmother Ollie and every other nonna in my tree. They're pretty strong and will let everyone know that they are tough. They're the ones who really maxed out their stats in strength. See this blog from 2023 for details on my grandma Ollie here.

    This isn't to say that there aren't strong women on my mom's side. There's plenty of them to go around. Last week I talked a little about Gertrude Stevens and her life. She seemed to be pretty strong and I think she had to be given all the drama she had to deal with in her life. And speaking of drama there was no shortage of it in Lucie Cadran's life. I wrote about here back in 2021. After the death of her husband Antoine in 1901 she handled her many children very well and they all had exceptional lives. 

    Since strong women come in threes (or more depending on the family tree), let's talk about my great-grandmother Maria Tedesco and see how she stacks up to the greats in the tree.  I think it's fair to say that she was pretty tough and by the end of this week's blog you'll see just how strong she really was. Trust me. She put all her stats in strength given all the things she went through.

    Maria was born in San Pietro a Maida in 1901 to Antonio Tedesco and Domenica Gullo and by the January of 1921 she was married to Vincenzo Ferraiolo, son of Marco Ferraiolo and Caterina Coppola. My great-aunt Nicolina always told me that she was a force to be reckoned with. While she was beautiful she went against the standards of her day in many ways.

    Case in point. By 1929 Maria already had two very young children. My grandfather Marco and of course Nicolina. Her husband had left San Pietro and went to America leaving her with their young children.

       Eventually, Vincenzo sent for his family to join him in America and so Maria had to sail across the cold Atlantic with just the kids. From October 30th to November 6th they sailed hoping to reach Vincenzo and a new life in America. Think about what this entailed. The kids had no screens or toys to entertain themselves and since they were leaving from a very poor locale all the three of them had were literally just the clothes on their backs. She was a lady in her late 20s taking care of two very rambunctious toddlers as they sailed across the ocean!

   When the three of them arrived in New York, I'm not sure Vincenzo was there to greet them. In fact, I'm not 100% sure how she made it to Haverhill. All I know is that she was supposed to eventually go to Giovanni Coppola's house on Bedford Street in Haverhill. Giovanni was her husband's first cousin once removed and was a big deal in the Italian community there since he ran a grocery store and everything.

    My father believed that she likely took a train from New York to Haverhill and of course that meant more traveling alone with the kids. Chances are by the time the three of them actually got to Haverhill they had their stories to tell. Think about all the people they saw at the ports in Palermo where they sailed from and in New York when they arrived. There had to have been a sharp contrast in those days and since it was late 1929 they likely saw very anxious stock brokers walking around. I bet they were booking their first tickets out of New York after the market crashed! I'm just saying,...

    After they settled in Haverhill, Maria didn't just raise the children like a good early 20th century housewife. She evidentially taught herself enough English to get by and watched her children while Vincenzo was away for work. Vincenzo worked as a laborer and sometimes the jobs he had to do took him away from home for a few days. 

    Maria likely felt a little homesick every now and then since she was very far from her parents in San Pietro. They likely corresponded via letters. However, I think being close to her Tedesco cousins in Woburn, Mass may have eased the homesickness quite a bit. Plus Marco and Nickie got to interact with their cousins as well as their cousins in Haverhill. I call that a win. It might have definitely eased the loneliness she felt while Vincenzo was away.

    To say Maria was strong is a bit of an understatement. It took an unbelievable amount of strength to leave her home and everyone she knew in San Pietro, sail across the ocean with two toddlers and then live in a strange place where she didn't know the language. Adding onto that the fact that Vincenzo often went away for work so she had to count on her friends and neighbors nearby for help.  Sometimes it takes a village and judging by her funeral guest list she had a lot of friends who cared about her.

    She sadly passed away in 1943 and there's no doubt in my mind that she had a lasting impression on all of the people she left behind. My grandfather Marco made it a point to still keep in touch with the cousins in Woburn for decades after Maria passed away. My great-aunt had many fond memories of her and was more than a little annoyed at her father since he married another woman very shortly after her mother's death.  Sadly, my father missed out on knowing his grandmother and thankfully everyone around him told her how strong she was and everything just like how everyone around me told me all about Marco. Sometimes history repeats itself. All you can do is remember the strong people in your life and take those lessons to heart as you go through life youself. Still, I can't help but wonder how they handled that trip without screens or any diversion. It's fun to think about.

See ya next time!

52 Ancestors Week 20: At the Cemetery

 From Amy Johnson Crow: Week 20:

The theme for Week 20 is “At the Cemetery.” I was already fascinated with cemeteries when I became a genealogist. There’s something special about seeing a tangible remembrance of an ancestor. Which ancestor is buried in a favorite cemetery or has an interesting tombstone? Whose grave would you like to visit? 

Any second now a Michael Jackson video is going to start.
Or a Tim Burton movie.

    My cousin Bob put it best. "Gotta love cemeteries. Everyone's dying to get in".  I'm pretty sure I've said that in the blog before and that dad joke never gets old. I've written about many cemeteries in this blog over the years. Well, mostly Saint Patrick's Cemetery in Haverhill. There's a very good reason for that. It's the de facto Italian cemetery in the city and because of that several of my ancestors and their relatives were buried there. I've even written about the Cimitero Comunale in San Pietro a Maida where my 2nd great-grandparents Marco Ferraiolo, Caterina Coppola, Antonio Tedesco and Domenica Gullo were laid to rest.

     If I ever go to Gesualdo, I would love to see the final resting places for my Italian 2nd great-grandparents on my dad's maternal side while they still existed. Long story short. Italian cemeteries recycle plots after so many years. So, chances are if you want to go to an Italian cemetery the memorial may or may not be there.

    Everyone on my mother's side of the tree is scattered in cemeteries around the Merrimack Valley and beyond. Most of them are in Haverhill or Amesbury cemeteries and there's one stone I'd like to try and find. I would like to find the final resting place of Antoine Legault, my second great-grandfather. We know he was buried in Saint James Cemetery in Haverhill we just don't know where. It's a big place and I have a sinking feeling that he might be in an unmarked grave. It's not an unfair assessment. Saint James is probably the biggest cemetery in the city and his stone would be very old since he passed away in 1901.

    That being said, I still would like to find his stone and visit a few people's markers on my mom's side of the tree.

Gertrude and the Senters!

    The first grave I'd love to visit and pay my respects to is the final resting place of Gertrude Stevens, my 2nd great-grandmother. Gertrude doesn't really have a stone. It's a memorial marker set in the ground at Pine Grove Cemetery in Farmington, New Hampshire.

    I was very thankful to the person on Find a Grave who found that stone. From what I can tell on Google Earth the cemetery is a good size cemetery and finding her marker by myself would have been a challenge. Thankfully, someone found it, took a picture and put down the exact coordinates for where to find it. Ahh, isn't modern technology wonderful? 

    Unfortunately, it looks like her marker is in the back of the cemetery. Getting there might be a bit of a trek. I think it'd be worth the trip. I would just need to find a day that I can get there..

        

    I know Gertrude's stone isn't all that remarkable. I still would like to visit it given all the craziness she went through in her life. Her and Wilfred Felker's divorce was not an amicable split and she ended up moving to Farmington  to be with her second husband. She had to deal with so much and I kind of want to tell her that everything turned out well in the end. Her son Austin grew up and wasn't a jerk like his father.

    Despite being an hour away from her son, I'm pretty sure they kept in regular contact. My mother grew up knowing the Senters and a few of them were even at my parents' wedding. So, yeah. I think he was close with his half-siblings.

    Back on topic. As you can see the stone isn't as crazy as other stones I've seen. Perhaps one day I'll talk about my 4th great-grandmother Maxime Lepine's cube shaped stone in Newburyport's Saint Mary's Cemetery. That stone has a story and as soon as I find out more about it, I'll share it's tale. For now, I am content with my desire to visit Getrude's stone.

    I wanted to visit it when I heard that people vandalized her cemetery and overturned some stones.  (Some people are so getting haunted if they haven't already) When I heard more about her story, I wanted to visit it even more. Now it's just a matter of finding the time to get up to Farmington and find her grave. I have the location and the means. The trick, naturally, is finding the time to go!

    I like cemeteries fine and I know some people are creeped out by them. It makes sense. You never know when one of them will be haunted by vengeful spirits or something. It's safe to say that some cemeteries probably aren't haunted like Saint Patrick's. If there was, you'd hear an Italian ghost asking you why you don't call any more and then feel your cheeks getting pinched by an ethereal hand.

    As  for Gertrude, I think I would like to visit her stone the most aside from the Italian stones in San Pietro. Those would be number two on my list of cemeteries to visit. I just feel like going up there and pay my respects. I just hope I don't get lost in there. From the air it looks like Farmington cemetery is a maze! Good luck to all who enter there. Just remember that you ain't afraid of no ghosts!

See ya next time!

52 Ancestors Week 19: A Question the Records Can't Answer

From Amy Johnson Crow: The theme for Week 19 is “A Question the Records Can’t Answer.” Outside of letters and diaries, most of the records we use in genealogy don’t tell us the “why” and “how” of our ancestors’ lives. We can read the records of what happened, but how did our ancestors feel? What was it like? This week, think about a question that goes beyond the names and dates. What would you ask that ancestor? 

Riddle me this, Batman....

    I think we can all agree that documents can only tell researchers so much about an ancestor. Birth records can only tell you who the parents were and where someone was born. Unless you lucked out and have Italian ancestors like I do and they'll give you the birth records. baptismal records and sometimes even the marriage record depending on the era someone was born. Italian records can sometimes be considered one-stop shopping in many cases. Sometimes grandparents are listed! All that's missing at that point is the father's favorite brand of vino.  Even Italian records don't tell you everything about someone. It sure would be nice if they did. However, you have to make do with what you can find. 

   There are so many questions I would ask various ancestors that records would never be able to answer. If I could, I'd talk to my grandfather Marco about everything he missed since he passed away in 1983. I'd ask my third great-grandfather Jeremiah Felker why his grandfather was listed on his death certificate instead of his father Elias. The list goes on and on. Since I've been trying to break down the Coppola brick walls I think it'd be a good idea to talk to my second great-grandmother Caterina Coppola and ask her a few simple questions.

Marco, Caterina and
Adriana

    While records in San Pietro a Maida would definitely have her vital statistics like her birth, marriage and death records. Those records wouldn't necessarily answer where the Coppolas came from. I know for a fact that no Coppola was born in San Pietro a Maida until 1860 when Caterina's cousin Francesco was born. There are no other Coppolas in San Pietro prior to that date so they all had to have come from somewhere in Italy.

    Records naturally may provide clues as to where the family came from but they wouldn't necessarily tell me why her father Paolo, her uncle Giovanni and her aunt Caterina left that town for San Pietro a Maida.  I'm sure it'd be an interesting story because three siblings just don't breeze into town, marry three locals and have families with them. Life isn't a Hallmark movie!

    I would definitely ask her about that and of course I'd have to have the universal translator on. Never go to another country without it. I would totally have to break the language barrier when talking to a few ancestors of mine. I'm not THAT fluent in Italian, you know!

        I think that would be a good start to my conversation with Caterina. I would totally rip the band-aid off and get to the point. Still, there are some other pointed questions I'd ask her. For example, I'd ask her how it felt to have several members of her family scattered around the globe. She would definitely have a lot to say about that, I'm sure. The family was everywhere and while my great-grandfather would write to his mother from time to time, I'm sure she thought about everyone quite often.

Vincenzo in black and white.

    Just to recap. Caterina's siblings Paolo and Concetta were in Haverhill with their families. Her cousins Giovanni, Marianna and Rosa Maria were there too along with her son Vincenzo and her grandchildren Marco and Nicolina. Her daughter Caterina moved to Buenos Aires with her husband and everyone else was in Italy.

    To say that's a big family is a bit of an understatement. Records can tell me where they lived and when they left. But they can't very well tell me how she and her husband Marco felt about having her family spread out like that. Somehow I don't think that'd be mentioned on their passports. 

    Little things like that can definitely add to a family's story and make them seem more real. Plus, you can bet that they'd have more color to the story than some random fact you find online. As a writer, I always want to try to fill the narrative with interesting bits of information. It's questions like these that add a human element to the family story.

    Finally, I think I would ask her more about Nicola and what he was like.  Nicola was a child of Marco and Caterina's who tragically died trying to save Caterina's boyfriend who was drowning. I'm not sure if it'd be a sore subject. I would have to tread lightly with that question. While San Pietro can certainly tell me when he was born and when he died, I don't think the records could tell me what possessed him to dive into currents like that and face certain death. He was pretty heroic. There's no denying that. There just has to be more to the story than what a cousin told me. Sure my great-aunt was named after him. There just has to be more  to the story like I said.

    Records always tell you one thing but a relative can often tell you more about their story. You'll never hear the context behind someone's trip to America by looking at a ship manifest. Oh, sure you can guess all you want. You could even imagine what the journey must have been like. In the end, hearing a story from someone's own words would mean more than any document you might have in your archive. That's why it's important to talk to the oldest generation you can because they can tell you stories that vital statistics and scans can't!

    I'm lucky that Caterina told me a lot about her grandmother. She's told me a lot about my second great-grandmother and I wonder if she has some of the answers to the questions I've asked. You never know....

See ya next time!

52 Ancestors Week 18: Tradition

 From Amy Johnson Crow: Week 18:

The theme for Week 18 is “Tradition.” Traditions can be an important part of family history, bringing context and connection between generations. What is an important tradition in your family, and who worked to keep that tradition going? 

Having pipe cleaner guys hold on to the 
Christmas tree for dear life is a tradition.

    There are so many traditions I've covered in this blog and sometimes I don't know where to start. For Christmas we have huge Christmas Eve parties. On Thanksgiving we have lasagna with turkey and all the trimmings. Mother's day is just around the corner and this week I thought it'd be a great idea to talk about how Mother's Day meals eventually evolved into something we like to call "Cousin's Day". I know it's not a real holiday but it is in our family! 

    Rather than just take my mother out to dinner every Mother's Day, we would take all the mothers in the family out at once. The results were amazing. Imagine a table full of Italians all talking to each other and over each other at a fancy restaurant. That was basically our Mother's Day every May for as long as I can remember.

Grandma Ollie, her sisters, my Grandma Natalie
and one of my grandma's friends.

    Like the Christmas Eve parties, I'm not 100% sure who started it.  Basically, it was a way for my grandmother to see all of her sisters at once on Mother's Day. It was odd considering everyone was close by anyway. All I can tell you is that every May we would dress up, go to Haverhill to pick up my grandma Ollie and then go to a random restaurant here in the Merrimack Valley for lunch. The restaurant was usually chosen after much deliberation. It usually depended on what everyone was in the mood for that week. Though, some places were honestly better than others. Looking back, I really wished Chef Gordon Ramsay visited the "Pond View". The food was positively ghastly!

    Sometimes we didn't go for the food. We went for the company. The five of us would arrive at the venue and we'd be greeted by all of Ollie's sisters, their spouses, my dad's cousins and their spouses. At its height there were well over a dozen people at the gatherings. To say the restaurants made a lot of money that day is an understatement.

 I shouldn't complain about the food too much. We once went to a place that had been open since 1686 and it was pretty good. The place was conveniently named "The 1686 House" and it's located in historic Kingston, New Hampshire. It's a typical surf and turf place and naturally I enjoyed it immensely. I haven't been there in ages and I'm glad that it's still open. I think if the quality of the food remains constantly good, a place should remain open to the public. If a place goes downhill thanks to a new chef, the food will of course suffer.

    After we had dinner, we would go to one of the cousins' houses for dessert or one of the sisters' houses and it was usually there that I got an earful of family history facts and figures. Normally this was because those restaurants were noisy and since I have hearing aids I wasn't able to hear what my dad and his cousins were talking about at the table. Once we got out of there I was able to hear myself think and that allowed me to interact with the cousins more.

    If we went to my great-aunt Louise's house in Haverhill, I got to see plenty of pictures of my great-grandparents Giuseppe and Clementina and thus asked questions about them and their siblings. Without the noise of the restaurants, I got to hear everyone better and was able take in the information I was told a lot more easily. Pro tip: Never ask for family history stuff in a crowded restaurant on Mother's Day!

    The desserts were always good, too. My great-aunts all made cookies and all kinds of goodies. So, I got to listen to some fun stories while eating Italian desserts in relative peace and quiet. You honestly can't beat that.

     I will admit going to those places now would probably make me miss my grandmother and her sisters more than the places we went for "Cousins Day"  because they were often hilarious. For example, Louise would take rolls from the table and put them in her oversized purse along with pads of butter. Why? Why not! "It's free bread!",  she would say. My grandmother, naturally, helped her pack the bread and kept an eye out for any wait staff that might be watching them. Just picture four little old Italian ladies in a classy joint and you'd get my grandma and her sisters. There was never a dull moment with that crew!

    Over time, the sisters passed away and my dad's cousins all agreed that everyone should still visit each other even though the mothers were all no longer around. It was a great idea and we would still go out to dinner at random places and usually they were at more local than the places we went with the little old Italian ladies.

Cousin Carol

    The evolution of Mother's Day meals to "Cousins Day" was pretty seamless and a natural progression since my dad and his maternal cousins were all close.  At the end of the meals we ended up going to his cousin Carol's house in Nashua and be treated to desserts she and her daughter made. Going to Carol's house was pretty fun as I got to talk to second cousins I didn't see too often. Plus, I got a chance to enjoy some of my great-aunt Josie's recipes that had been passed down to her.

       Carol was the oldest of the cousins and so she had a lot of photos to share along with the recipes. On one of the "Cousins Days", I told her I was working on the family tree. She smiled and dumped a shoebox full of pictures on me. Literally. One of the photos fluttered in my lap and it was a picture of Giuseppe, Clementina and all of the sisters looking like they were waiting for the bus or something.

    That was pretty cool, I'll admit. Naturally, I took a pic of the picture before we left. Why not? 

    These days Cousins Day has been more about the cousins visiting each other. We would still go out to dinner at a random restaurant and while we would still have a great time, I again found myself remembering the Mothers' Day meals of years past. I can't help it! My grandmother and her sisters were just too funny and they often had everyone at the table laughing. Just try to picture them as like the "Golden Girls" but all of them were Sophia. That was pretty much them in a nutshell!

    My father and his cousins all worked to keep the tradition going because it was very important to them. They grew up together in Haverhill and naturally it made sense for all of the cousins to get together every once in a while. I would love to do that with my own cousins, honestly. But, it depends on time and all of that. Perhaps one day we will have our own "Cousins Day". It wouldn't be a bad thing! The Mothers Day/Cousins Day parties were always a great time to learn family history and hear stories of years gone by and it's great that the tradition still continues. Who knows what shape it may take in the future. Perhaps I will make a similar tradition with my cousins. Time will tell.

See ya next time!

52 Ancestors Week 17: Working for a Living

 From Amy Johnson Crow: Week 17:

The theme for Week 17 is “Working for a Living.” Our ancestors’ occupations can give real insight into their lives. This week, choose an ancestor and focus on how he or she made their livelihood. What did you discover about that person’s life?

BEEP! BEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!

    The jobs our ancestors had can really tell you a lot about them and you can unfortunately learn a lot about their jobs when you read through their medical journals at the tender age of eight. I can't tell you what an eye-opening experience that was. Let's just say I was brushing my teeth MORE than the recommended two times a day for like a month after reading my father's copy of the New England Journal of Medicine! Nine out of  ten dentists say you should stay away from medical journals. The tenth is being sued for malpractice.

    I've talked about my father the dentist in the blog before. He had his own practice in Salem for a little over fifty years and was very good at what he did. Of course I'll never forget the weird looks he gave me when I pulled out my own teeth in his operatory chair just moments before he was going to work on my teeth. They were loose! One good tongue flick popped it right out!

   While my father was working on peoples' teeth and making sure they flossed, my mother was also a medical professional. She too had her own medical journals and yes they were also just as gory as my father's books. There's a reason why I never went into medicine. My mother was a lab supervisor at Merrimack Medical Labs in nearby Andover, Mass and the environment there was quite different from than the one at my dad's office.

    Long before Diane Hamel worked at that lab she was first a graduate of Suffolk University where she studied laboratory medicine. She also interned in Hartford, Connecticut in 1970. She later worked as a Lab supervisor in Bayonne, New Jersey before she and my father moved back to New Hampshire.

    Once she and my father were back in the Granite State, she worked in the hospital and at Lawrence Medical and testing. 

    I think it's pretty clear by now that my mother was every bit a medical juggernaut as my father. What's interesting is that out of all of her siblings, she was the only one who went into medical school to pursue medicine as a profession. She has three sisters and two brothers and none of them every really followed in their father's footsteps and he was okay with that as long as they were happy.

    By the time I was born she was already working in a private laboratory in Lawrence and Salem, New Hampshire.  As a lab supervisor she counted blood cells and checked for various coagulation factors for patients and helped to diagnose medical conditions for doctors at area hospitals. Say a patient might have sickle cell anemia or any other blood-related illness. Her job was to examine blood cells for any irregularities and conduct other tests.

Goriest image in the blog ever.

    Every once in a blue moon I would join my mother at her office and it was a little bit more relaxed than my dad's place from time to time. It might have been because my mother's boss, Phil, was a very nice guy. He would often set me up with a microscope and I would check out blood cells for myself. I also got to see bacteria, paramecia and all kinds of microscopic organisms long before I ever learned about them in biology class. 

    Talk about getting a head start, right? Alas, medicine was never my thing. I understood it of course but I still had to turn my head whenever my mother took my blood at the dining room table. Yes, she did that! Not everyone is cut out to be a medical professional. We all have our own strengths and weaknesses. 

    All in all, I would say that my mother's job complimented my father's work as a dentist quite nicely if you think about it. As a dentist, my father made sure that peoples' oral health was in tip top shape. After all, poor oral health can lead to very unfortunate medical conditions. My mother and her fellow lab rats worked to make sure people were healthy all throughout the Merrimack valley. There was even a time when Merrimack Medical's services were definitely needed.

    In the early 2000s, I was a student at Merrimack College and there was unfortunately a small pandemic spreading among the student body. People were getting sick in their dorms. People were spreading whatever the illness was all over campus. If you're thinking this was a precursor to the Covid times, you would be right on the money.

    Her lab was called in to help diagnose the problem and come up with a solution as quickly as possible. I remember being tested when I got home. I commuted to college since it wasn't that far away. Thankfully. I never had the bug that went around campus. I did have to drink lots of water for days and we couldn't drink the water that was on campus. To this day we still don't know what caused the outbreak. Needless to say my mother was channeling her inner Doctor Crusher when she saw me and I was thankful that I didn't get sick.

    And that was how my mother earned a living. After the lab closed she went to work with my father at the office. She was already sort of working there whenever he needed help with a patient or if one of his staff members couldn't make it into work.

    I would say that she liked doing what she did for a living. She met some interesting people and maybe helped to save a life or two. Diagnosing a person's medical condition is never easy and to this day she still helps people whenever a problem arises. She was very good at what she did and let's not forget she did it while raising two boys. 

    I have to give my mother credit for that. It's not easy looking at microscopic organisms and seeing what damage they're doing to a human. You have to have a strong stomach to work with blood and sadly I do not have that talent. At least I've learned from both medical professionals. I may not be a doctor but I do play one on tv. 

See ya next time!