BROTHERS MAKE THE BEST FRIENDS...

Four brothers. Four friends. Maybe they didn't get the chance to see each other as often as they would have liked over the years...life tends to get in the way sometimes. Maybe the amount of time spent together was limited to a weekly card game, a phone call just to say hello, or a family get-together every now and then. But I would argue that these four handsome gents remained close throughout their lives. The expressions on their faces in this photo are proof-positive of the real affection that they shared for one another.

THE POPPA MEN
Standing: Rocky (Dad). Seated from left to right:  Lenny, Freddie and Augie.

Photo taken at Freddie's 40th wedding anniversary party - 1983

Sepia Saturday Photo Challenge #520

DADDY'S LITTLE GIRL...

This is a photo from May 1949. It shows my sister, Natalie, just under two-and-a-half years old. She is with our Dad in the backyard of the old family home at the time on what was then known as DeKalb Street. 

In what appears to be a warm Spring day, Dad is wearing a t-shirt with his jacket hanging on the fence. Natalie is wearing a short-sleeved top and coordinated pants and shoes. Natalie is also wearing a mischievous grin on her little face...one that I had come to recognize and see often throughout the years. 

Natalie & Dad on DeKalb Street - May 1949

In my mind's eye, I imagine that the smile on this little one's face was an attempt to charm her way out of whatever mischief she was planning or had just accomplished. Of course, none of this was lost on my father. 

Dad knew his children well, and the love in his heart for his little girl simply jumps off the photograph, as the expression on his face proves. If I had to make a guess... I'd say Natalie's winning smile did the trick. Oh, what a character! Love and miss them both.

NO DAY AT THE BEACH...

When I was growing up, family vacations and outings were generally limited to day trips and local activities. There wasn't much travel outside the state of Illinois except for the occasional Wisconsin or Indiana border crossings in those days. A day spent at the Indiana Dunes State Park or Wisconsin Dells was a real treat. It didn't really matter where we traveled, we always had fun on those road trips… except perhaps this once. Although, in retrospect, it seems pretty entertaining now.

Maybe it's because we had no air conditioning at the time or that it wouldn't have helped anyway, but the dog days of summer in 1965 seemed to be hotter than usual. Now and then on late afternoons before the sun went down on those hot and sticky days, we would all pile into the family sedan and head on down to the lakefront to cool off. Mom would pack a picnic basket filled with cold chicken or sandwiches, and various deli-style salads for supper. Dad would load up the trunk with a couple of lawn chairs for the adults, a blanket for the kids, and all essential sandcastle-making equipment for the youngest, with a beachball or Frisbee for the older kids. Hearing the waves slap against the rocks and feeling the breeze off the water was very refreshing and something we all enjoyed. This night, however, we never made it there. 

Nancy (age 4)

It was an unbearably hot day in August, and the night didn't hold any promise of cooling down by much. My family climbed into the car and headed toward the lake. As I recall, the vehicle had bench seating. Dad, mom, and my three and a half-year-old sister, Nancy ["almost 4" as she would always remind us], in-between them sat up front. My eldest sister, Natalie, brother, Patrick, and I were seated squashed in the back. It would take about 30-40 minutes or so to get to the beach, a little longer, depending on the traffic. 

As I have already mentioned, part of our meal consisted of deli-style salads [i.e., potato, macaroni, and a creamy coleslaw]. My youngest sister loved rice pudding, so my mother would always pick up a small container of it, especially for her. As soon as Nancy saw the carton, her eyes widened. She had to have it, and since we wouldn't be eating supper for at least two hours, mom gave-in and my sister finished off her special treat before we left for the lake. 

The car ride was bumpier than usual [or at least, that's the way it seemed]. Maybe because it was so hot outside and Patrick, Natalie and I were packed in like sardines, …not to mention stuck to the vinyl seats, but it felt like the lake was a hundred miles away. 

After riding in that car forever with my brother and sister spurring me on, I taunted and teased my baby sister mercilessly, as she leaned over the back of the front seat.  As we all know, teasing is the first rule of the unwritten code of conduct between siblings on long car rides. My mother shouted at me, "leave your sister alone!" followed by my father, yelling, "don't make me have to pull over!" Of course, rule number two of the code is to blame the behavior on someone else. Therefore, my response to both of them was, "Natalie and Patrick made me do it!" Yes, the ride was long, and it was about to get even longer.

Dad was sidetracked by all the commotion going on in the car. He hit a pothole in the street that airlifted my brother, sister and I up off the seat. Of course, my younger sister loved it and squealed with laughter. Well, if there's one rut in the road…there's bound to be more, so after about the third jolt, it wasn't so funny anymore. Nancy's rice pudding…having not entirely digested decided it wanted out. 

Unfortunately, Natalie, Patrick, and I were in the direct line of fire from a hail of the gloppy mess once known as pudding that was inescapable. As my mother tried to pull my sister down onto the front seat and contain the steady stream of Nancy's favorite dessert, …she was caught by rice pudding shrapnel. Poor dad, hollered out "what's the matter now?" which caused Nancy to turn her attention towards him. As she turned her head in his direction, he was hit by the final volley of pudding down his sleeve and pant leg.  

Well, as you might have guessed, an evening at the lake was out of the question. Instead, we ended up at the local Turn Style Department Store, which was the equivalent to Kmart or Target back in the 60s. The entire family had to be completely re-outfitted just for the ride home. 

Whether it was food poisoning or motion sickness, no one will ever know for sure. What I do know is that I have not been able to look at rice pudding, let alone eat it ever since. As for my sister, Nancy... she denies any recollection of the events related here.

MUG SHOTS...

Two young boys wearing their Sunday best along with very serious if not guilty… expressions on their faces. The suits may look ill-fitted, but there is an excellent reason for it…

Cropped from a larger family photo taken around 1924
L-R: Dad (age 8) and Uncle Lenny (age 6)

As the story goes there was a fight between them right before this photo was taken. Lenny (on the right), had been teasing his younger sister Beth mercilessly, as older brothers tend to do at that age. Snatching her doll away from her and holding it just out of her reach.

When Beth began to cry, older brother, Rocky (on the left) came to her rescue. He grabbed the baby doll away from Lenny, and a fight ensued between the two brothers. Before the toy could be returned to its rightful owner, the two little rascals were called away for a family photo.

What did Rocky do with his sister's dolly? He shoved it under his suit coat, what else?  😉

Sepia Saturday Photo Challenge #519

TWO-YARD PENALTY...UNNECESSARY BAGEL ROUGHNESS...

A train station coffee kiosk

This tale relates an incident that happened to me about fifteen years ago. It is not genealogy-related by definition, though one might argue that it is a page out of my personal history book.

I was working in a downtown bank in Chicago many years ago, and as many others before or since, I took a local commuter train to work every morning. Upon reaching the final stop, all passengers are instructed to pick up their personal belongings and exit the train into the station. The train station has a food court in the lower level. It also has a strategically placed coffee bar or kiosk on the upper floor, for those riders needing a jolt of caffeine to start their day. There was no escape from the intoxicating coffee aroma emanating from that kiosk as you entered the station. In the early morning hours, there is generally a crowd of people standing in line to get their daily fix of caffeine, this particular day was no exception. I took my place in line and waited my turn. Nearing the front of the counter to place my order, I could see that I was next in line for my least favorite server. There must be an invisible sign that flashes over my head that reads 'all morons follow me.' I say this because I always seem to attract the worst or rudest waitperson possible.

I stepped up to the counter and ordered my usual breakfast…a medium coffee with cream and sugar, a plain bagel, and plain cream cheese on the side. The surly server, that I'll refer to as Suzie rang up my order. I handed over my money, and Suzie poured my coffee. She added the cream and sugar, and I thought to myself…so far, so good. Suzie also handed me a bag with a bagel and cream cheese.

Unfortunately, it was not the plain bagel and plain cream cheese that I had ordered or expected. It was an onion bagel with a veggie spread. I handed the bag back to Suzie and repeated my order to her. She rolled her eyes at me, took the paper sack, and walked away. After a few minutes, good old Suzie came back with another bag. This one contained a toasted raisin bagel with melted butter. It was tossed into the bag without ceremony or any additional protective paper around it to prevent the oily mess from seeping through the bottom.

I called my "favorite" server over again and reminded her of my order for the second time. She snatched the greasy bag out of my hand and walked away. A few minutes later, Surly Suzie was back with yet another mystery bag. I was beginning to feel like I was on a game show trying to guess what was behind door number three. Not knowing what I would find this go-round, I carefully opened this bag, to find that the bagel it contained was listed on the menu board as an 'everything' bagel. There were no spreads of any kind included this time...just a single sheet of bakery tissue.

At this point, I had had about as much as I could take of this nitwit. I dropped the bag on the counter with a slight thud and called Suzie over once again. I told her that she had gotten my order wrong for the third time. She said to me in her usual gruff tone, "don't be so rough with the bagels." If I hadn't been so annoyed, I would have laughed. Instead of being apologetic for her repeated bungling of my order, Suzie grabbed the bag from me (roughly, I might add), and walked away. Before correcting her mistake, she decided to hold a sidebar conversation with one of her coworkers about the situation. Standing a mere six feet away, I could hear the entire discussion. I was quickly running out of patience and decided to interrupt the character-assault on my personality. I not so gently reminded Suzie that instead of talking about me, her time would be better spent getting my order right. If not, I would be speaking to the manager. After another minute or so, and a couple of scoffs and smirks later… Suzie was back with yet another bag. A miracle of miracles, this bag contained my original and finally correct order. The only problem now was that my coffee was cold.

I wasn't in the mood to go another round with Suzie, and have her possibly spit in my cup. I grabbed my bag, cold coffee, and what was left of my dignity and started to leave. Usually, I let stuff like this go. On this particular morning, however, this rude and incompetent person behind the counter had tap-danced on my last nerve. I stepped over to the side of the kiosk to talk to the manager about my experience. I suggested that service with a smile might be a better approach from his waitstaff than eye rolls, snarky attitudes, and blatant incompetence. From the expression on his face, I suspect that I wasn't the first person to complain about his stellar employee. He apologized and promised to address the situation.

After that day, I never saw Surly Suzie again, so perhaps the manager was a man of his word. It was never my intention to get her fired, and maybe she wasn't. I will never know. I do believe, however, that when you work with the public, you should strive to provide excellent service, and when you don't …you should be held accountable. I also believe that companies should be held responsible for the way that their employees treat their customers, that is…if they want to retain them. Service with a smile is not that difficult of a concept and should be practiced regularly.

Definitely Not Suzie!

RESOURCES:

https://www.gettyimages.com/

Rolleyes emoji - mondspeer on DevianArt

ANCHORS AWEIGH!

Marilyn DeLio (my mom) as the first sailor on the left.

A high school play is a big deal to students, their families, friends, and school faculty members.

A senior class production is an even bigger deal when you're right up front where everyone can see your nerves play out in front of the audience.







This is a picture of my mother with several of her classmates in the 1935 McKinley High School senior class production called Tulip Time. I can't say that I am entirely clear on the connection between a chorus of these lovely young beauties all dressed up as sailors, baskets of tulips, and a windmill, but aren't they adorable? 

Sepia Saturday Photo Challenge #518 

WHERE THERE'S A WILL...

I've been spending the last couple of months organizing and sorting through some of my clutter. I'm not proud of it, but I've discovered what a hoarder I've become through this process. Don't get me wrong, I'm not enough of a hoarder to be the subject of a television show or worthy of a news story. Nor is there a need to wear a hazmat suit to walk through my house... but still, a hoarder just the same.

This Is Not My House!!

One of my favorite hobbies is genealogy. Anyone that has ever dabbled in this science knows that the accumulation of documents, photographs, memorabilia, and books is part of the fun of it. Organizing and cataloging these items requires a will of iron, and can take months or weeks. If you've been researching your family tree long enough, …it can take years. If you have multiple interests, such as collecting antiques, books, or crafting…your "clutter" will be multiplied tenfold. Add on top of all that, the day-to-day junk that we accumulate, and you've got yourself quite a mess.


My catharsis began by ridding myself of paper...lots of it. Old magazines with articles that I will never read or ideas I will never try. Stacks of junk mail, statements for accounts I no longer own, recipes that I will never make...you get the point. Papers were coming out of every orifice of my home. It's been driving me crazy for quite a while.

I decided to grab the bull by the horns so to speak, and try the Marie Kondo philosophy of getting rid of those things that no longer give me joy. So far, I have filled three tall kitchen bags with the shredded remains of the joyless paper stacks, and there is enough shredding left to fill another 3-4. The problem is that instead of holding on to paper, I now copy and save links to the articles & various websites. The snowball effect of that is...I forget I have the hyperlink, and now instead of physical clutter...I have a lot of 'cyber clutter.' On the bright side... now at least it is only visible to me...on my phone, iPad, and laptop. It's like shoving everything into a room, and shutting the door when guests are on their way over. I've never done that mind you, but I've heard some people do. Somehow, I don't think that is what Marie Kondo had in mind.

I will probably never become a minimalist, but I must admit throwing stuff out, giving it away, or shredding it into a million pieces can be very therapeutic. I've been putting together a game plan on how to approach the rest of my stuff...books, craft materials, and other miscellaneous dust collectors. My problem is...I like my stuff! I don't know if any of it 'gives me joy' exactly...but it does give me comfort.


Organizing my home is long overdue. It is one of my resolutions for this year. Sadly, it is a resolution I make every year... along with going on a diet and exercising. This time I mean it! It may take me the rest of the year, however, but I'm bound and determined to get it done!! After all, where there's a will... there is a way. Right? As for going on a diet and exercise... baby steps.

RESOURCES:

http://clipart-library.com/

https://konmari.com/

READIN' & WRITIN'...

The love of reading was something that my mother instilled in me at a very young age...three-and-a half-months-old, to be exact. 

Here I am, in my usual "loungewear" during that time of my life. My trusty pencil behind my ear, and a book in my hand. Looking off into the distance for a quiet place in which to concentrate, I've no doubt that I'm on the verge of writing a spellbinding review of Peter Pan, a much-loved book. 

Other than the fact that I now have slightly longer hair, and have managed to avoid diapers so far... not much has changed over the years. I still love to read and write and spend a lot of time doing both whenever I can. 

Sepia Saturday Photo Challenge #517

LANDING THE SECOND PUNCH...

When you lob an insult, it's bound to land somewhere. Since you can't hurt feelings of an inanimate object… it's safe to assume that the lobbed insult will land on a person. One can only hope that the recipient has thick enough skin to cushion the blow, and if not, …here's hoping you can run really fast!

The story I'm about to relate may not be one that you might typically find on a genealogy blog or a history blog for that matter. It is, however, a part of my personal history, and so I'm qualifying it as a family story.

 If ignorance is bliss, then I ran into one of the happiest people on earth several months ago. Let me say that I do not dress up on the weekends to run errands. On this particular morning, I went to the hardware store to pick up a couple of those 3M removable hangers. I thought I looked particularly chic that morning, [said with a shrug]. In my standard weekend attire of jeans, a t-shirt, sneakers, and no makeup, I bumped into this woman that I had worked with a couple of years ago. She always seemed to be a pleasant individual, and so when she approached me in the store, I greeted her with a friendly smile and said, 'hello.' Her response to me was slightly less social when she said, 'hi, you know you should never leave the house without makeup' and proceeded to walk away. I was somewhat taken aback. The unsolicited comment from someone who didn't exactly look like a page out of Vogue magazine either, [and for the record, never did] was rude and insulting. 

  

I admit that my tongue has always been a little sharp, but I generally do not go out of my way to hurt a person's feelings, because I'm not too fond of it when it happens to me. It serves no purpose. That doesn't mean that I don't mutter under my breath or make snarky comments while being gossipy with a friend. After all, I'm not a saint, but I try to keep it to a minimum and, at the very least, not do it in public. So, shortly after the verbal vomit that I had just been subjected to...I found myself following behind for a few steps and plotting what I would say to my former coworker in response. 

As we were both approaching the exit, the moment arrived. In a clear, unemotional voice, I snapped back ...' well, you may be right about my appearance but, at least when I put makeup on...I know how to do it. Would you like me to help you with yours?' I left her standing there with a slightly stunned expression on her face as I continued to walk out of the store.  

I will never understand anyone that thinks it is okay to insult, belittle, or try to embarrass another human being, all in the name of "constructive criticism." When the shoe is on the other foot, however, and the "critic" becomes the target of the negative remarks, they are often astonished or incensed. I'm sure when she told her family and friends about the incident, she was the innocent victim, and I was the instigator. I will say that it was not one of my proudest moments, and I hate that she reduced me to her level of ignorance, but it did feel good to give back as good as I got for once.  

Maybe the moral of this story ended up being...never mess with a woman wearing jeans, a t-shirt, sneakers, and no makeup! I would have much preferred...treat others the way you want to be treated...with kindness and respect. Maybe next time.

  

RESOURCES:

https://www.fotosearch.com/clip-art/

A GAGGLE OF COUSINS...

Whenever family came in from out of town, it was time to whip out a camera and snap a few pictures. Unfortunately, not everyone got in this snapshot (I for one, wasn't born yet). The occasion for the gathering was to celebrate my Aunt Ann, Uncle Steve and cousin, Ronnie's arrival from Connecticut on Jul 15, 1950, which took place at my Uncle Lenny's house.

Back Row From L-R: Uncle Steve (Sember), Aunt Kay (Poppa), Uncle Charlie (Craig), Tommy Craig (on Charlie's lap), Mrs. Sember (Steve's mother),  Aunt Beth (Craig), Ricky Poppa (on Beth's lap), Grandma Poppa, Natalie Poppa (my sister), Marilyn Poppa (Mom), Patrick Poppa (in mom's arms), Aunt Ann (Sember) sitting on couch,  

On Floor From L-R:  Ronnie Sember, Uncle Augie (Poppa), Charliene Craig (sitting on Ann's lap) and Uncle Lenny with Prince the dog (is that a smile on his face?)

Sepia Saturday Photo Challenge #516

TAKE A DEEP BREATH...

     Other than the obvious definition for the word air, it can also be defined as a way to express, vent, utter, voice, or broach. To make known what one thinks or feels. An impulse to reveal in words, gestures, actions, or what one creates or produces.[i]

     I was ‘up in the air’ on how to approach this week’s post. Do I take the word literally and write about oxygen? I can point out the fact that you can’t live without it. Or, sometimes, when it’s humid outside, the air is so thick, you can cut it with a knife. 

     Maybe I should write about the time I broke up with an old boyfriend over the phone because he made a promise and didn’t keep it. That was a deal-breaker for me. When he tried to call a week or so later, acting like nothing happened, I hung up the phone. I guess you could call that ‘giving someone the air.’ 

     What about a cute little story about the pair of socks that go into the dryer, and somehow only one comes out? The other one seems to disappear ‘into thin air’ or does it? I suspect there is a parallel universe out there that has a multitude of single socks, wondering what happened to their mates.

     A story on one of my ancestors, a great aviator with many adventures while soaring through the air, could be interesting. The problem is, I don’t have any aviators in my family and so no adventures to write about. Or... I could write about a hot air balloon ride, except I’ve never been on one, so I have no point of reference...  

     Who would have thought that a word representing something that comes as naturally to every healthy human being as breathing in and out, would be so challenging to write about?  I may need to sit back, take a deep breath, and let the air clear before I tackle this one.

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[i] https://www.thefreedictionary.com/air