A Personal Look at Heritage

My paternal grandparents settled in Indiana, Pa. where they raised a family of five children. Since my father was the oldest child, he was forced to quit school in the 7th grade and deliver fruit and vegetables with my grandfather to the local mining communities. Each week they would take their wagon and horse to the docks of the Strip District in Pittsburgh to purchase their merchandise for the week. When the weather was good they were able to ride the wagon to Pittsburgh, however, heavy rain or snow required them to push the wagon through the muddy ruts or drifts of snow. When my grandfather accepted a job with the highway department, my father began to work in the Indiana Macaroni Factory. His job was to carry large, heavy sacks of flour used in the macaroni process. From there, he graduated to the manager of a popular local bar and finally had the opportunity to buy his own beer distributorship in Homer City where I was born and raised. My Saturday's growing up were spent (after Cathechism, of course), helping my father deliver beer door to door to the same mining communities that he and his father had delivered fruit and vegetables.
I can still picture Sunday meals at my grandparent's house. Let me rephrase that, I can still smell and taste and hear those Sunday and holiday meals. Bottles of homemade wine covered the tables, rigatoni, spaghetti, manicotti, lasagna and bread galore. Meatballs and homemade sausage in adundance and Italian songs never ceased. Even with all of this food available to the entire family, everyone always had room for grandma's specialty which was always served last. No one dared to ask when it was going to be served for fear of upsetting her. When it was ready, grandma would bring to the table, platefuls of beautifully stuffed artichokes. A heavenly dish which I have tried to duplicate, but never succeeded to have them taste as good as the original. I will admit that grandma was able to pass along her meatball making skills to me and this dish has become a favorite of my own children. Throughout this glorious meal, each of the numerous grandchildren waited impatiently to have the opportunity to sit on granpa's lap at the head of the table.