Let's Backstep a Moment!

Grandmother Isabella had 3 children when in Italy which was Uncle Pipi, Mom, Irma, and Aunt Mickie. She had Aunt Ida and Lala, and Uncle Nini while in America. The Great Depression years must have been really hard for this family and my Mom. Growing up with not enough to live on or eat. I can't even imagine what it was like, but I know one thing for sure, everyone cared about everyone else, the family was the one thing always counted on and Grandmother was the glue that kept it all together. Except for the oldest, Aunt Mickie, who I believe was quite jealous of my mother, detached herself from the family, having an education in Italy the equivalent of a grade school teacher, she struck off on her own and met her husband, Uncle John. He was a kindly man but I always had the feeling he was German. I think he was a German prisoner of war that somehow wound up being transported to the US. In any event, he was warmly accepted and became part of the family. Unfortunately, Aunt Mickie could never have children, and I think that was one of the things that made her scarce around our house, except of course when we had "The Farm" which they would come , like everyone else, for the summer, and were welcome.

My mother could cook!!!! And the meals she cooked were astonishing. Daddy built the biggest BBQ Pit between the house and bungalow I've ever seen. He was the official BBQer. The fires were made with Oak and other woods I couldn't recognize. He would start them with a small aount of gasoline and a match. His tools were a huge 4 foot fork, spatula, tongs, knives, and red wine which he made in the basement of the house. Every thing got doused with it and it was delicious. We had a whole farm full of food and would eat the chickens, but Daddy had to trade with our neighbors for pork and beef because "we kids" would not eat our pets. But milk, butter, eggs, every kind of vegetable came from our garden, including all the herbs, basinigol, parsley, fennel, corn, escarole, lettuce, carrots, raddish, green beans. In our "Mud Room" hung salamis, pressutti, hams, provolone, pepperonis, potatoes, squash, zucini, yellow squash.

But before I tell you more about Mom's family, I have to backstep and tell you the story of my father. Daddy was born in 1919 here in the US, Long Island City, to be exact, which is part of the boro of Queens. I am so sad that I don't know more details, and now there is no one to ask and it makes me so very sad. But Daddy's father, Dominic DiMantova, I did not misspell this name, immigrated from the town of Mantova, Italy, just southwest of Venice to the US. Some how, he knew my mother's family in Italy and came to the US before Mom's family. I don't know what my father's mother's maiden name was or even what she looked like, but I do know, bcause my Mother told me, that my father's mother died in childbirth with him. I did know my grandfather, I was 16 years old when he died. We would visit him occassionally, and he looked exactly like my Father, only he had blonde hair and bright blue eyes. My Dad had black hair and brown eyes, which I quess were his mother's coloring. My grandfather was Dominic Joseph DiMantova, my father, Theodore Joseph DiMontova, and my brother Dick was named after grandfather, Dominic Anthony DiMontova. My father did try to please him but there was no pleasing his stepmother. She was a cold woman.

After Dad's mother died, grandfather DiMantova left him with an Irish family here in the States and went back to Italy to find another wife. He found a beautiful young girl named Rosenella. She was lame, and not considered a good catch because of her lameness. I think it was a club foot, but I'm not positive. I know she walked with a cane and wore those heavy black shoes. So grandfather brought her back to Long Island City where she had 6 children. She would never accept my father as part of their family and he struck off at a very young age on his own and by himself. Because of credit reasons, he changed the spelling of his last name, not to be confused with the step siblings and bad credit. My grandfather died in that same apartment that he brought his 2nd wife to all those years before. The only sibling I remember of Dad's was his half sister Aunt Mary. She was so very nice, we all loved her, but she had a very serious heart condition and died leaving 2 children and her husband Charlie who was also a great person.

Daddy had a difficult life, but he loved Mom and loved us kids. He was a Milk Man. I know that doesn't mean much today, but when I was growing up it was a terribly difficult job that started at 4am and ended around 2pm in the afternoon. He delivered dairy to all of Manhattan and the infamous Mulberry Street (Little Italy) where you could find anything Italian from food to fashion, furniture made in Italy, etc. Grandmotaher Isabella loved my father, and when he asked if he could marry Mom, she wept. So she bought my Mom that beautiful dress you see in the wedding picture of she and Dad and had a chuch wedding and small reception at home for them. It was during better times than the depression, but still quite hard times when the country was still breathing hard and trying to recover.

What a wonderful love story Mom and Dad were. My Dad was soooooo handsome and Mom was a true beauty. But it will have to wait till my next post.