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Mom & Dad & Immigration 5/24/2008 1:21:24 PM
In these times where immigration doesn't mean anything any longer, here's a story about my folks and their families. Huge difference from today. Mom & Dad & Immigration
July 4th, 2007
This 4th of July would have been my parents 70th Anniversary. This is my tribute to them, Josie & Stanley, to all their hard work over the years, to their love, not only to me but for everyone whose lives they touched and to the sense of pride I feel in having had the honor of being their oldest son.
Back in the days when it wasn't fashionable to sneak into America and rape the system for all you could steal, my parents came to this country. They were just babies. Dad was from Poland and the third oldest of what became a family of 18...Mom from Sicily, the fourth of what became a family of 12 children. Between the two families there wasn't $100 dollars when they hit Ellis Island.
They stayed parked on Ellis Island until their parents could fulfill all their requirements to be allowed into America....LEGALLY. That was an interesting concept back in the good 'ol days, huh…America protecting its borders and ports.
They HAD to learn fast, the ways of this great country, because they had no, "Press 2 for your language" option. Also, there was no welfare, no tuition allowances, no grants for housing, no medical care, no food stamps...no nothing. All those immigrants had was their families, themselves, and the courage to do whatever was necessary to obtain the freedoms America offered.
When WWII came along, 12 of my uncles were eligible for service. They all served and not because they had to. Both grandfathers told their sons they had a duty and that's all it took. My father and four of his other brothers were exempt because they were married with children but they all worked in defense factories like Pratt & Whitney, Colt Firearms, the Springfield Armory, and the Manhatten Project. The ones who served went into the Army Infantry, Army Air Corp., Marines, Paratroopers 101st Airborne, and Rangers. Five became POW's. Miraculously, they all came home.
When I was in my late teens I asked my Uncle Adam, the oldest, how they all survived. He told me it was because they fought with more intensity and didn't want their families to lose the freedoms they had risked everything to get and because of my father and uncles who stayed behind working defense jobs helping keep the war effort supplied. They took nothing about their freedoms for granted and demanded nothing in return. Another interesting concept, eh?
My Mom & Dad didn't have it easy raising me. I was kind of like the seed of Damian. Not every mother's dream, to say the least. When my own son was about to turn 18 ( I was a single parent) and I was having a bad time with him, I was talking to my Dad on the phone and asked him, "How the hell did I live to be 18?" He replied, rather stoically, "Ronnie, you should thank God your Mother loved you...a lot."
Dad, I miss you. I still remember the first time you took me trout fishing and I tried to reel my first trout (the poor thing) through the tip of the rod. I remember all those Sundays you'd sneak me out of the house before 5:00 a.m. to go fishing so we didn't have to go to church. Thanks for providing the life we had as a family. Thanks for teaching me how to work and enjoy it.
Mom, I miss you, too. I miss your cooking and how you taught me to cook. Even though you told me mine was better than yours, your Chicken Cacciatore was the best I'd ever had...along with everything else you did. Remember when I was 6 years old and ran away with a stick and bandana over my shoulder loaded with your hot peanut butter cookies. No tellin' how far I'd have gotten had I not run out of cookies...at the end of the street! And, don't fret about all those broken wooden spoons you had to wear out on me over the years. I was the reason you always had good new spoons to cook with.
Happy 70th! I love you both and miss you very much.
