My mother and father and me

More from Micki

This isn't really about Runnemede either, but it is in one respect. If I hadn't been born, I wouldn't have known about or been known in Runnemede. So here's the tale.

Because of a SNAFU we had to go back to Micki’s to pick up Alan’s wallet which he left there when we visited two weeks ago. What a great opportunity we had to be with her again.

Once again I “pumped” her for details about the Sbaraglia family. She did tell me something that I never, ever knew. And I imagine I never was privy to the information she gave me because my mom and dad just never talked about pregnancy or “having babies.” Ever after I was married and having my own children my mother wouldn’t talk about such things.

So, I was very surprised when Micki explained to me that when my mother and father were married they never expected to have children. Apparently, my mother was not supposed to be able to have children. And while she loved children and wanted children the doctors told her she was “too small” and would never be able to carry a child to term. The whole family (Sbaraglia/Evangelista) knew this.

And I guess that after my mom started having children (she had four) the original prognosis of no children just slipped ever one’s mind and it was never talked about again.

Being the first “surprise” I was pampered, I have to admit. Imagine my mother’s happiness when she found out she was having a second, then third, then fourth child. My mom did love children. And she was good with them. Some people have a knack with children – my sister does. Some don’t (I don’t). I do know that after my second brother was born (the fourth child) I was old enough to understand the whispering and quiet talk about my mother health being jeopardized if she did have a fifth child. She was no spring chicken when my brother Carl was born. And I’m guessing that between her age and her tough pregnancies, it was time to call a halt to having babies.

I remember after my youngest brother was born that my mother was ill a lot. She had severe nosebleeds and not flashes so bad she would turn beet red and have to sit down or lay down. Still she loved us children and we could tell that all her effort were put into making us – her children – happy. With so many financial limits she still made the four of us feel as if we were the most important thing in her life. And we knew that our father was really the most important person to her. We knew she loved him, and he her.

I thought you might want to know about this.

Aunt Daisy

This BLOG will have nothing to do with Runnemede, but everything to do with my mother's family.

Aunt Daisy (left in the picture on left and in hospital bed in picture on right) was my mother's oldest sister. She started having children when my mom was about 10 years old. So Ruth (her oldest, not pictured) was only 10 years younger than my mother. And the families merged together, so that cousins were like brothers and sisters. I don't remember who Micki said the girl was in the picture. But it's one of the Evangelista sisters.

Aunt Daisy married Maurice Evangelista (pictured with her on the right in the left-hand picture). I don't know the year. And they had lots of children -- seven girls and one boy. One of the girls, Mary, lived only a short time. She died of pneumonia when she was 6 years old.

The only Aunt Daisy I knew was the one in the hospital bed. She had a stroke sometime in the 1940s and the only times I saw her were at the rehab center (they didn't call them rehab centers in those days, they were institutions) in Lima, PA. Mom took me with her several times to visit with Aunt Daisy.

Aunt Daisy looked like my mom, but she also resembled Aunt Francis (my mother's other older sister). I thought I was looking at my mother the first time I saw Aunt Daisy (in a wheelchair). I only remember Aunt Daisy smiling. Always smiling.

The picture on the right is a picture of Aunt Daisy (in bed) with Hannah, Micki, and Esther. Esther also died young (she was in her mid-30s when she died of a heart attack). I remember the day she died, I was in high school -- junior year, it was in 1959 or 1960. Esther lived with Aunt Annie for a long time, and of course, she was at all the family events in my early life.

I still remember Micki most. I don't know why. I spent the least amount of time with her, when I was growing up. Maybe it was the knowledge that she was in "show business" and I kept track of her and whenever she was "in town" I went to see her and got to be with her for a few minutes.

Our recent visits were such a blessing. Renewing the relationship and talking about family and details I don't recall or didn't know about the family members.

More to follow......

I'm not real happy to be back

We're back from our trip to Florida and Panama and Hondoras and Belize and the Western Caribbean. We just had too much fun and I would rather still be floating around on a large ship in the Gulf of Mexico (they call it the Western Caribbean rather than the Gulf, don't know why) than having had to drive for three straight days to get home.

Oh, we could have flown to Florida and rented a car, and then flown home, I suppose, but we didn't, and I would still rather be in Florida and the waters around it, than back here in the cold.

We had a wonderful time with Micki again, and watch for it -- I'll be writing a lot this next week. Lots of new pictures and lots of new "old" pictures as well to put on the BLOG.

Alan and I were able to walk well in Florida. Must be the air down there. Or the heat and humidity levels are just right. I don't know, but we were walking with minimal pain and weariness. It was so nice. Oh, I had a sciatic nerve attack, but that went away after one day in bed. And I felt almost normal -- like a 65-year-old should feel, not like a 90-year-old person.

Alan got me a birthday present on the cruise -- he hasn't even seen it yet -- let's just say it's jewelry. He asked me if I bought myself something for my birthday, and I told him, yes, HE had bought me something for my birthday. I figured 65 is a milestone -- you know, medicare and all that -- so I got myself, oops, HE GOT ME something really, really nice. And his Aunt Marion and Uncle Dayton had a birthday cake for me -- a surprise cake. It was delicious.


But, we're home now. We're safe. We wish we were safe in Florida instead of Kentucky. What can I say? I'm adicted to warmth and slow drivers!!!

Driving in Florida

Driving is Florida is something else. Everyone is old and drive like old people. Oh, yeah, I'm one of the oldies, but goodies. Anyway, I was driving with Micki on morning last week, and she kept pushing on her brake trying to stop the car. Only she was pushing on the floor not the brake. I think that happens a lot down here. We laughed about it and praised God that we were in a parking lot going all of 1 mph, if that. But I find myself wondering why if the speed limit is 45 we are going 35. I guess the reflexes are down some when one is over 65.

I'm not OVER 65 yet, just got there. So I assume next year I'll be driving in the slow lane and I'll be there for the rest of my life.

The pictures are of Robert Sbaraglia (he's 67, I think) and Micki (she's 83, I know that). We had a great visit with both in Pataka. We spent a few days with Micki, but only a few quality hours with Robert. He does, after all, have a horse farm to take care of. Mick's spaghetti was so good. And, yes folks, the picture of her alone shows how much she looks like Grandmother Sbaraglia. Amazingly so. That's Alan giving her a smooch on the cheek just before we left for Port Charlotte.

We're leaving for Panama, and I understand my houseguests have had and are having a great time in our condo in the cold.

Schooling for mom and her siblings

While visiting Micki she told me of my grandmother’s tenacity in getting a good education for her children. My grandmother spoke very broken English. She worked as a janitor in a mission in South Philadelphia in order to support her children. She had to do this because her husband (Grandfather Sbaraglia) died shortly after Uncle Joe was born, which was about 10 years after they arrived in America. Before Uncle Joe was born, our grandfather worked at odd jobs to support the family.

I’m trying not to get confused with this writing because Micki told me so many things. And her father (Uncle Maurice -- pronounced Morris) worked for Wanamakers as the person in charge of heating the entire building. He was the “engineer” – that was his title – in charge of the boiler at Wanamakers. And, he, Micki’s father – uncle Maurice – made very good money doing that. He (Uncle Maurice) was also a member of the Black Hands – one of the Italian mafia groups in Philadelphia in the early 1900s.

Back to my mom’s parents – Orazio and Santa Sbaraglia. Orazio died when my mom was 6 or 7. He had red hair. No one in the family inherited his red hair. All his children had black hair and all had either brown or black eyes. Mom's eyes were so dark they were what, I imagine, would be considered black.

My grandfather Sbaraglia helped to build the Panama Canal. But that was prior to their coming to America. Because he contracted yellow fever, and because he worked for an American company that was building the canal, his "benefit" for the suffering was a free pass to American for him and his family. Of course, the free pass wasn't really free, but the transportation to American for him and his family was.

In a few days, Alan and I are cruising to the Canal, and the closer the time comes to the day of that cruise, the more excited I am getting. I’m thinking, I could be walking at the same place my grandfather dug dirt, and then contracted yellow fever, which set in motion the red-tape that allowed him and his family to come to America.

Santa worked very hard, as I wrote above, to make certain her children had good schooling. My mother (Rose) and her sister (Anne) because they were fatherless, were able to go to boarding school in Massachusetts to a place called Northfield. My mom didn't talk about this, but Micki told me that she did, in fact, go there. I always assume my mother went to Philadelphia Public. I knew Aunt Anne went to Northfield because she and mom talked often about Aunt Anne's days at Northfield. The connection didn't connect with my brain, though. I recall Aunt Anne talking about how hard it was for her at Northfield without my mother being there -- I guess that implies that my mother was at some point at Northfield at the same time Aunt Anne was there.

Anyway, they both graduated from Northfield.

My uncle Joe, because he was fatherless, was able to attend Gerard College – it's not a college, but a school for fatherless boys and it went from first grade through the end of high school. Gerard College is located in Philadelphia. While it is a boarding school, I'm not sure my Uncle Joe boarded there, since a short subway ride would get him there.

I have a picture of Aunt Anne in her cap and gown on the the day she graduated from Northfield, but I have no pictures of my mother during that time period. And I have Uncle Joe’s graduation picture (it’s marked on the back – Joe’s graduation from Gerard College).

Micki has nothing but wonderful memories of our grandmother. She was, of course, was quite young when grandmother died. But she does remember those “touches” I mentioned in another BLOG writing.

Family photos

They're coming. Watch for them. They will be posted sometime after March 16.

Getting the pictures developed was a big problem. I went to my favorite photo duplicating center – since I had no scanner or printer, I had to make copies – and the center was “out of photo paper”. However, I was told I could buy a box of photo paper and make my own copies. So I started copying all the pictures I had culled from the hundreds of pictures I looked at that were in Micki's books and boxes. I ran into a problem during the copying process. The finish (toner) kept coming off in streaks. Turns out I was ruining their machine with the paper I was told to purchase. Fortunately, I was able to get one copy of each of the pictures I had chosen from all those photos of Micki's, and I will put them onto the BLOG and then write a little about each person and the picture.

I didn’t make copies of ALL the pictures Micki had with her and celebrities. I did make a copy of her autobiography (the copy that was given to the press back in the 50s and 60s). There were just too many celeb photos for me to copy, and I wouldn't remember the names of the celebs anyway. Just let me say, she knew a lot of people who made it big in the country/western field of show business. Most of those she knew and worked with are now passed away. But, their records (those are the same things as CDs, but bigger and tonal quality is less) are still around and often in the midnight to 6 a.m. slot on the TV you can buy them for only $19.95 plus shipping.

Cousin Micki

First, let me say that I WILL be posting photos as soon as we get back home. I will have to scan in the photos before I can put them on the BLOG. All the new photos will have captions so you will know who the folks are in the photos and their relationship to the Sbaraglias. Now, on to other things.

Regarding Cousin Micki (Martha Evangelista). Micki's stage name was Micki Evans, and she kept that name, and I suppose had it changed legally to Micki Evans since all her mail comes to her at that name. I'll have to ask her to be sure she is legally Micki Evans, but I did ask her if she even used Martha Evangelista, and she said no. So, on to what I wrote to remind myself about my recent visit with Micki. I had written about her before.

Micki has always been on a pedestal for me because she is a family member who was actually in show business. You could say she was an American Idol back in the 50s because she won on Arthur Godfrey’s Talent Scouts – a show sort of like “Idol”.

Well, we visited her recently (real recently) and she is a hoot. What a character! She’s still on that pedestal, by the way. Micki told me so many stories of her early life, and her life as an entertainer, that I’m not sure I can write about all of them.

Should I publish the picture of her and Elvis – yes, the real Elvis, as in Elvis Presley, not an impersonator, and not the one that keeps showing up at McDonald’s. She knew Elvis when he was a young man, before he got old and fat.

Mick also worked with Gene Autry (Back in the Saddle Again) and she was in the Grand Ole Opry for several weeks in Nashville. She has written many songs, and is getting residuals from at least two of them. A couple of her songs were pirated by other singers, but she’s okay with that. She told me that all of her life has been directed by God, and the ups and downs of the entertainment portion of her life were as God would have them. The good, the bad and the ugly were all God directed, and she’s happy with her life.

She is 83 years old. Her back hurts her most of the time, but she is still very energetic. Amazingly so.

She told me of another of Daisy’s children – one that I had completely forgotten because she died when she was a little girl. That child was Mary. Mary was only 6 when she died, and Micki was close to Mary because of their birth order.

So, here is the way Aunt Daisy had her children: Ruth (several new pictures available of her), Hannah, Micki, Mary, Esther, David, Grace, Betty.