A shopping paradise
Let Them Drink Beer
Proprietor of a Tavern seems to be part of our German blood. There are at least three members of the family who were tavern owners; George Lambries, Joe and Lizzy Siearcki. Charlie Hynek. (Full story at the Deutche Family-Zimmer/LAmbries pages)
Left: George Lambries Right: CHarlie Hynek
Calumet Tavern of Joe and Lizzy of left side of street.
Maria Ursula Thru the Years
Nonno’s mother was Maria Ursula Digoncelli. She was born in Piantedo on January 30, 1865. We know nothing of her childhood. She married Domenico Scalcini in June of 1888 but was widowed at age 23 during the first year of marriage. She gave birth to her only son, Domenico shortly after her husband’s death. From this point on she signed all her correspondence: “Digoncelli, Maria Ursula, the widow Scalcini.” She never remarried and continued to live the remainder of her life in Piantedo. Among her interests were weaving and letter writing. She wrote many letters to her family in America. She sent Lena Edelwiess flowers from the Italy high country. In February of 1953 Nonno visited his mother,his only trip to Italy after coming to America. After Nonno’s departure, Maria’s health began to deteriorate rapidly. It is rumored that she willed herself to live long enough to see her son “one last time.” She died July 22, 1953. She was buried in the Digoncelli family plot in Piantedo.
Famiaglia di Digoncelli
They Came by Ship
The Scalcini and Digongelli’s emigrated to America between1901 and 1922 leaving from the ports of La Havre, France or Genoa, Italy. They came with relatives and friends from Piantedo. After they landed in New York, often with very little money, they made their way across the country and settled in California. From Mendocino in the North to San Luis Obispo in the central valley. The many chose to settle in the San Francisco Bay Area.TThey found work with other immigrants from the Sondrio region. Farming, vineyards and dairy ranching were the occupations of choice. Their new life had begun.
Christmas Snow
The Gramma’s
The Little Table
The Little Table by Jeff (1995)
Rejected 1. To refuse to recognize or give affection to (a person). I think everyone has felt rejected sometime in there lives. It is one of the worst feelings that anyone can experience. It has many forms and ways of being expressed. The type of rejection I hate the most is when people don’t recognize you are there. One example of this is when a person comes to a new school. Many times little groups or clicks already exist and are not very open to new comers. They just ignore you, pretending not to see you. You know they see you and they know it too, but they don’t think of how you feel. There are many other forms of rejection which I will not mention, but I will tell you a story about a time when I felt the exact same kind of rejection stated above.
This story started about eight years ago and lasted until last November. The rejection was from my own family, the worst possible source. Not only my close family, but also my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Luckily it only happened once a year. Once a gear on the same day at the same time at the same place by the same people. It was at Thanksgiving dinner. It occurred over and over again, year after year. I call it the little table. It was a table in a separate room then the main dinning table. The chairs where small and uncomfortable and the table was not tall enough for a person my side.
A long time ago when I was just a little tike I sat at the big table. I had older cousins and younger cousins but none around my age. A couple of the older cousins got married and of course there wives would get to sit at the table with them so the rest of the family pushed me, there own flesh and blood, on to the little table with my younger cousins. The first couple of years it was OK, but when I got older it got annoying. I knew my family loved me but they all failed to recognize that the table was six sizes to small for me and they failed to recognize that I had to eat with out talking because a bunch of little kids don’t hold a dinner conversation very well. I thought they would eventually see this, but they didn’t. Last year I had enough so I told the head cook, my grandmother, that I would like to sit at the table with the older relatives. I got a spot on the corner. It isn’t the best but now I have my foot in the door.
Thanksgiving Raviolis
Poor Elmer
Elmer, the cousins asked Nonni & Nonno who said “he’s gone away To cheer up some other family today So quietly all the cousins around the table sat Looking at the feast before them set. The Ida said as they started to carve “Poor Elmer” And so on the Thanksgiving Day Not one of us would eat, no way