In earlier reflections on my life in Niles, Soldiers and Sailors, I reported on the military service of my uncles: Joe, Fremont, and Isadore. Those recollections have now led me to a consideration of other paternal relatives. Joe, Fremont and Isadore were my father’s brothers. Joseph was the eldest, born in 1906, more than a century ago! I really find this particular time interval to be quite remarkable; my personally knowing someone born more than one-hundred years ago seems impossible!
Uncle Frank (1907) was the second child born to Dolgizia and Luigi. He arrived premature. Family legend has suggested that, with the unavailability of postnatal intensive care, he was kept in a warm oven for the first weeks of his life. (I assume the oven door was kept open.) As the result of his premature birth, Uncle Frank was intellectually challenged. Growing up, I found he was very difficult to understand; I admit I avoided interaction with him as much as I could. On the other hand, he did have a positive, influence on my own development. Since he walked with a lumbering gait, with toes pointed dramatically outward, I forced myself to walk with my feet pointed directly ahead. This has been my distinctive gait for more than eighty years.
My father was the third born (1908). Fremont was a year younger (1909). I’m not sure why he was called by a name that had a minimal, if any, relationship with an Italian source of which I am aware. Interestingly, he spelled it as “Freemont” – with double “e’s.” Later, his son, my cousin, spelled his own name as “Fremont,” a more usual form.
The next son was Galvino (1910), whose name appears to be more Italian than “Freemont.” He was always called “Uncle Guffy.” He was seldom involved in any family activities; I probably saw him less than a dozen times in my life. Family legend indicated that Guffy was often away in jail; I have no idea what the charges might have been. He had a son, Ernest, whom I recall slightly from my very young days. However, I have no idea whatever became of either Uncle Guffy or Cousin Ernest in the years since then.
My Aunt Mary (1911) continued my grandparent’s annual births. She was the only sister and, when her mother died, inherited matriarchal control of this traditional Italian family. Her two younger brothers were Angelo (1913) and Isadore (1916). Family legend also suggests that my grandmother lost several other babies. I vaguely recall an ancient photograph of several uncles, and maybe Aunt Mary, standing next to a casket with a baby or small child.
I remember more about Uncle Angelo, who continued to live with his brothers and sister at home, until he was “sent away to Gallipolis” in his mid-twenties. This small town in southern Ohio was the site for the Asylum for Epileptics and Epileptic Insane, founded in 1893. I do not recall being around when Angelo had an attack of the ancient “falling sickness”; but he must have had them in sufficient numbers that the family believed it was no longer safe for him to live at home.
I have already mentioned Uncle Isadore as a brother who served in World War II in some un-designated capacity. I seldom saw him at “up-the-hill” gatherings. He had two sons, Donald and David, whom I’ve not seen during the past sixty-five years. On the other hand, David became the executor for my Uncle Joe, upon the death of cousin Fremont, several years after Uncle Joe had died. Cousin David and I did interact when the “up-the-hill” property was finally sold in 2019.
This may be the place for me to comment about the Camerino vendetta. It is, indeed, fascinating to me, how Italian families are capable of in-depth “fallings-out.” Unlike the vendettas, or “revenge” events of the Italian city-states during the Renaissance, any Italian family can have a long, intense misunderstanding without actual bloodshed. During my adolescence, my cousin Fremont was the outcast in the family. His father had divorced his mother and he had taken “her side” in the split-up. This made him a persona non grata for several decades. Then it was my turn.
My Aunt Mary, who once held me in an apple-of-the-eye status, disavowed me when my father died. She deeply believed I had abandoned my father, who suffered greatly from a spectrum of diabetic conditions. Living in Houston, I was not able to attend directly to his needs in Ohio. Being the matriarch of the family, she thought I should have been of greater assistance to him – and to her. At his funeral, she ignored my existence, which is a characteristic behavior for a vendetta. I was no longer welcomed “up-the-hill.” When Karen and I tried making an occasional visit, we would chat with Uncle Joe, while Aunt Mary would hide out in the storage-room-kitchen.
After my Uncle Fremont had died, his son was now allowed back into the family. I must admit that the logic for all of this escapes me. My cousin Fremont, Jr. now replaced me within the rankings within my extended family. When Uncle Joe died in 1998, a year after his sister Mary had passed away, cousin Fremont became the executor for his estate. Fremont was in charge of trying to sell the property, which was its major asset. Over the next twenty years, he was unable to find a buyer. When Fremont died in 2017, cousin David, became the executor. He finally completed the property sale in 2019.
I have found the recent Goggle map view of 1487 Robbins Avenue to be very strange. Several houses occupy the land that once held a concrete garage, which served as the family homestead; the result is completely unrecognizable. “Going-up-the-hill” exists only in my memory, where places and events will remain relative, at least for the time-being.