This is really two stories in one...circa 1942
One night there was a fire in a hot chocolate factory a few blocks away and the usual suspects went to check it out. My father, Uncle Tony and Uncle Marty..
They returned home carrying the discarded loot left after the firemen were done. They were carrying cartons of Hot Chocolate Powder.
I think it was the first time I ever actually saw hot chocolate (god, were we poor)..the booty was distributed to all the families...(it is almost like the cavemen coming home with their kill and feeding the entire tribe)
I think it may have been the first time all my cousins had the treat of a hot chocolate....it was definatley mine.
now the second part of the story...
It was grandpa's birthday and the entire family was in Nonna's apartment...I remember Nonna was going to make ( what else?)hot chocolate, only she was making it with water instead of milk, as the label instructed. Someone said Mom you can't use water and she said water is good enough...
For Grandpa's special day everyone chipped in a bought ( yes Bought) a bakery made birthday cake. I will never forget the cake had chocolate pudding filling and the sides were covered in sliced almonds...it was a wonderful treat , I thought, it does not get any better then this... I remember the bakery was on the corner of 5th St and Vernon Blvd, across the street from Montera's Funeral Parlor...(The name of the bakery began with a "G" but I can not remember it. if any of you do, let me know)
When it was time to have the cake and hot chocolate, I watched as Nonna began cutting the cardboard box the cake came in into squares and as the cake was sliced each person was handed a piece of cake on the cardboard and a cup of watered hot chocolate....but I knew it was a great and a wonderful party and I was happy to be there....
7 comments:
Now this is a great story, with many lessons. Firstly, it sounds like Nonna invented paperplates. But, it shows that something as simple as a piece of cake , can create a lifetime memory, in a world that is full of people who are never satisfied.
THe hot chocolate, well thats another story. Was it served in the Right Shoes that were obtained from the Shoe factory fire ? That would be the most economical
Great story !!!!!!
L- Ron
What a great story!
Hi Don ... I have the strongest urge to call you Papa Don. Hope you don't mind. I'm Tink. Not the fairy. :o)
I have a story to tell about your wonderful son Ronzi, his amazing giving spirit, and will do so in another posting.
For now, I have to say thank you to your son and to you ... for inviting some of us (bloggers) to come and have a glimpse into your lives.
The images in my mind from your stories are those of love, laughter, care, more love, lots of love!
Have you ever heard Neil Diamond's song "Brooklyn Roads?" Here is a link to that. While it may not exactly apply to your areas, I can well imagine the multi-family housing (I've lived in such buildings in Massachusetts ... old 3 and 4 level homes built by Portuguese immigrants for their extended families who fished and worked the factories along the Southeast coasts.)
It's so true .. a taste of soft cake, a whiff of creamy hot chocolate, sticky orange popsicles, soft scents of lavender and fresh basil can evoke the most vivid memories!
Here is a link a lovely video with clips of New York (Brooklyn .. then and now) set to Neil Diamond's Brooklyn Roads.
Hope your enjoy it:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vIMr4CgauJA
I shall return! To tell you about how wonderful your son is. And I'll bet that the apple (in your case) didn't fall too far from the tree! ;o)
The best to you and yours!
Tink
Tink..thank you so much for all the kind words and thoughts.....we are far from the Fathers Knows Best family images..we are just normal and sometime not so normals people who happen to be related. Underneath all the Fun, Fights and Forr-getta-boutt-itts...I know looking back at these 30 second peeks into our live allows us all, to recall the common bonds we all share...and yes I know Ron is a great guy...and thank you for sharting that feeling also..and yes, please call me Papa Don...it beats some of the names I am called...Thanks again
What great stories!!!
I've just spent a pleasant half-hour here {I like to re-read, when something catches my fancy}, and I want to personally thank you for sharing these vignettes with us, Sir.
Your son and I are 'casual' blog acquaintances presently, but I've a feeling this might change, now that I see how much he loves you, and you love him. I enjoyed pretty much the same relationship with my own Dad, right up until the day we lost him in 2002.
PLEASE keep the blogs coming, Sir!!! {Kinda "addictive," isn't it? ;^) } ALL "life stories" are Precious, and it's a Crying Blue Shame that more "Grey Panthers" haven't latched on to such an opportunity.
I've been lobbying my Mom for years to "get online," but she's content to surf looking over my shoulder, for now. {I made it a bit easier for her this spring, when I bought my new flat-screen, 22" plasma monitor!!!!}
Keep them stories coming, Bub - you've picked up another fan!!!
Cheers!!!!
{BTW - Yes Ronzi, it's "MT" here; I switched back to my given name when I re-registered with blogspot after I had to dump my own blog here last year, due to hackers.}
Hi Chris
Thanks so much for the comment...I enjoy this especially when friends and family leave a comment about them. Show these to your mom, maybe she will get the itch too...
Regards,
Don
Hi Papa Don (Can I call you that too?),
This was such a touching story, to think that something like hot chocolate was such a treat, and how much we take for granted in this day and age. My mom tells stories of when the depression hit (she's 75 and my dad is 80 this year) and how they had to ration things like sugar and butter. Her dad (my beloved grandpa) worked on the railroad and so they were actually considered *rich* as he held a job through those times.
As for my dad's side of the family, he was the fire chief of our small town, and so we either went to or were aware of EVERY fire too!
(PS You raised a wonderful, giving, loving son= Ronzi)
~Lace~
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