LAFAMIGLIA 2014: 2014

La Famiglia

di Bencriscutto

Family History . . .

An Immigration Experience

written by

Elrida Bencriscutto

edited by

Denisa & Richard Bencriscutto

1962 Original Family Photo

Rovito and Zumpano are small villages located in the rolling picturesque hillsides near the city of Cosenza, Italy, the capital of Cosenza Province in the Calabria region. It was in Zumpano that Gregorio, my father, was born on January 12, 1891. Times were hard and young Gregorio was found lying near a campfire in a wooded area, protected from the chill of a winter day. He was brought to an orphanage. An errant spark from that fire left a scar over his left eye which would last a lifetime and serve as a reminder of the circumstances of his birth. After some years in the orphanage, Giuseppi DeRose, who had no children of his own, agreed to take my father in as a foster child.

In those days children began working at a young age. Gregorio toiled on the farm of his foster father. When Mr. DeRose started his own family, Gregorio remained and was treated as a member of the family although he was never formally adopted. Gregorio was given the name "Bencriscutto" by the orphanage which in Italian means, "well raised."

Caterina DeRose, was born on May 3, 1893, in Rovito. Her father, Pasquale, was Giuseppe's brother. Her mother's name was Luigina. When her father died she was taken to be raised by her grandparents, along with her sister Raffeal and brother, Frank, as her mother was unable to care for them. Later on, Luigina married and had another daughter, Maria Vennari. Caterina met Gregorio while living with her grandparents. The two dutiful and obedient children worked throughout their developmental years. The nearest school was some distance away and transportation was not available. At times they were even hired out to neighboring farms for a few pennies a day. Economic conditions were harsh and all over Europe people struggling to survive looked to the West, to the land of liberty and opportunity. They dreamed of finding a better life in America.

Giuseppi's brother, Fortonato DeRose, emigrated to the United States in the early 1900's. He made his way to Wisconsin and settled in a city named Racine where he found work in a foundry. The work was difficult but language barriers did not bar employment. It took a year of long hours and austere living to save enough money to send for his wife and my mother's sister who came along as a companion. In 1909 Fortonato sent for his brother, Giuseppe who brought along Gregorio. They arrived in 1909.

They also found work in the foundry and all lived together sharing a single home. The extended family began to thrive with the birth of children. My mother, Caterina, was still in Italy but when her sister, Raffeal, married and left the communal home, Caterina was sent for to help out with the household chores. The family was a self-support system. Large, extended families provided workers who brought in wages and resources which were shared by all. They were their own government, their own social security system. They worked hard and took care of each other. My mother arrived on October 5, 1910.

Marriage Photo

As was the custom, a marriage was arranged for Gregorio and Caterina. They were wed on April 14, 1912. They set up housekeeping in a third-floor apartment on Albert street near the foundry where Gregorio worked. Their union was blessed with a child, Santo. With the prospects of more children to come, they rented a single-family home in the neighborhood owned by Aunt Raffeal's husband Nick who was a fine carpenter. He bought homes in the neighborhood and renovated them. Gregorio often loaned him money for that purpose. I was the first child born in that home.

Elrida, they named me, and I remember our home well. Three bedrooms upstairs with a central room which provided heat from a potbellied black cast-iron stove during the cold winter months. On the main floor was a spacious kitchen with a coal-fired stove and a large wooden rectangular kitchen table. Our living room featured a Victrola, several chairs and another potbellied stove. We had no hot water, no bathtubs and our bathroom was in a dark corner of a dirt-floored basement. Since we children were afraid to go down there at night, chamber pots were placed under our beds. Without modern appliances, maintaining our home required much manual labor.

Children were expected to work right along side of their mother during a long day of household chores. We cleaned and cooked and hauled pails of coal for the stoves. During the coldest winter nights the stoves did not throw off enough heat and mother would warm bricks, cover them with towels and lovingly place them under our covers to comfort our bare feet. We bathed in the kitchen, sitting in washtubs with water warmed on the coal-fired stove used for cooking. Mother took care of maintaining the home while father worked.

For 30 years Gregorio was responsible for maintaining furnace #2 at the Belle City Foundry which was used to melt down the metal to be poured into molds. It was harsh, demanding, dangerous and dirty work. First, the furnace was loaded by hand with 100 pound raw iron slabs. Next, the furnace was filled with coal, hand-shoveled. At times the upper portion of the furnace housing had to be repaired when bricks would drop out. Gregorio would then have to climb up to that area during which his shoes sometimes caught on fire because of the intense heat from splashes of molten iron. At the proper moment he would skim impurities off the lava-like surface with a heavy, broad iron bar. Handling this bar, day in and day out, caused thick calluses to develop on Gregorio's hands which was one of his distinctive physical features.

He also was burned frequently from molten metal that would accidentally splash into water during processing and explode like a bomb breaking windows 100 feet away. When the molten metal was being poured into molds Gregorio had to closely monitor the process. The liquid metal had to be kept in motion while men maneuvering the molds managed to keep coming, one right after the other. In order for this to work the molten metal had to be a certain consistency. Despite these conditions Gregorio took a great deal of pride in performing his duties up to the highest standards. He studied the molten metal and bricked furnace that cured it to just the right temperature. He developed a sixth sense about just how to produce molten iron at the right consistency for pouring. He was respected by his coworkers and well-regarded by his supervisors. His day began at 3:00 each morning and lasted until 3:00 in the afternoon. Each day his clothes bore the effects of his labors. It proved to be one of my mother's ongoing greatest challenges; to rid those clothes of the soot, smoke, sweat and grime that soiled them and restore them to a fresh, clean condition. As the years passed our family continued to grow.

Our family's third child, Vincent was born, followed every other year by Louis, Mike, Esther, Fred, Antoinette, Frank and Rose. Mother's birthing period was always a hectic time for the entire family. Father would hurry to get the midwife while we did what we could to comfort mother. We could hear mother's moanings as father scurried up and down the stairs carrying containers of heated water, when finally an infant's faint cry signaled the safe arrival of another member of our growing family.

When I was very young a midwife would come and care for mother and her newborn. For a time following a birth, my aunt would stay and help father with a few chores. The midwife would also come every morning that mother was in bed to help with the baby and to take care of mother's needs. These women had families of their own, though, and limited time. Consequently, when I was older, I had to stay home from school to take care of the younger children. My teacher was concerned about me missing so much school and sent the truant officer to talk to my parents. When he saw the situation, he realized that there was not much else that could be done. I remember the unusual baby gifts that were given in those days.

It was typical to receive delicacies such as chocolate and angel-hair egg noodles along with live chickens. The chickens were kept in coops and weekly, mother would slaughter one to make soup. I can vividly remember closing my eyes and holding the bird by the wings over the sink as mother would cut off its head. Holding the chicken over the sink was one small example of what seemed like an endless variety of household chores that were required of the children. Along with carrying coal, chopping wood, and hauling hot water, dishes and floors had to be cleaned and clothes had to be washed and pressed. The bedroom floors were made of a soft wood.

I remember getting slivers in my hands when I scrubbed them. The kitchen floor was a hard wood and had to be cleaned to mother's standards which meant as white as possible. Mother tried to keep things very clean all the time, but it was not easy with so many little ones running around, along with coal-burning stoves depositing dark soot over everything. With a dirt floor in the basement soil was inevitably picked up and deposited all over the house. I would help with the children, feed them, change diapers, and dress them. Whenever I came home from school, I would be handed a baby to hold or a toddler to take care of. Sometimes I wanted to play outside, but the only way I could was if I took a little one with me. One of my friends said to me once, "Elri, I never see you without a baby in your arms." "I know, but someone has to take care of the little ones," I replied holding in my true feelings of concern about the endless responsibilities I had to shoulder.

While the many household and child-care duties were often a hardship for me as a young girl, they also helped me to develop a strength of body and spirit that sustained me through many difficult times in my life.

For example, there was a family down the block that also had ten children. We had to go past their house to get groceries at the corner store. One of the boys was such a bully that we always crossed the street to avoid him. One day we were playing a game in front of our house and he came walking by and began to threaten us. I was so fed up with being afraid that I challenged him to a fight. I knocked him down and began beating on him. He tried pulling my hair but I had the advantage. My brothers and sisters were afraid at first, but then, one by one they began challenging him, too. He never bothered us after that. On another occasion, the priest of our parish asked each of the children in my class to bring a baby brother or sister to school.

He intended to give a prize for the cutest child. My sister, Antoinette, was about six months old and was so adorable with her dark curls and big brown eyes. I decided to bring her. I dressed her up and carried her five blocks to school. She sat with me at my desk. I still wonder how I managed to do that, especially after noticing that the other children had their mothers bring the babies. After judging the priest came to me and said,

"Elri, Antoinette really is the prettiest child."

"Well, thank you Father, it's good to know that you really thought she was worthy of winning," I said in an understanding tone.

Unfortunately, with all the mothers present he was afraid to announce Antoinette the winner for fear of upsetting them. When I got back home I said to mother,

"Antoinette didn't win the prize but the priest told me she still was the most beautiful child there."

"Well, that's nice Eldrida but you know we all love Antoinette just the way she is," mother consoled.

Mike was also a very attractive baby.

He was born blonde, which was unusual for an Italian child. He was so cute and chubby that all the ladies in the neighborhood fussed over him. They would pick him up and smother him with kisses. Most of the local children had darker skin and hair, so a blonde was quite an attraction. Pregnant women especially would seek out little Mike in hopes that being near him might cause their babies to also be blonde. The older I got the more I became responsible for taking over mother's duties and looking after the younger children as well as seeing to her needs. My years in school along with my older brother Santo, were cut short so that we could make more of a work-related contribution to help provide for the needs of our family.

As if our modest home wasn't crowded enough, we took in boarders. My mother's brother, Frank, and a cousin, Santo Caruso, stayed with us when they first came over from Italy. Santo and Vince had to sleep between them in the same bed. It may have been an inconvenience but those kinds of sacrifices made it possible for people of meager means to leave their homeland in search of a better life. Accommodations were made on behalf of my parents when they first came over and now it was their turn to help the next wave of immigrants. This story of self-sacrifice for the welfare of others was being repeated over and over, across the country and among many different ethnic groups. As children we learned at an early age the value of helping others and how it strengthens the family, the community and the culture we were a part of.

As my brothers grew, they were all expected to find ways to make money to help out with the family expenses. All the boys had paper routes at some point along with various other jobs. Santo, being the oldest, begin working at the Hartman Trunk Company rather than finish high school which was considered an academic luxury, much the way college is viewed today. Before the trucking company he had many unusual smaller ways to earn money that took up his time before and after school.

For one woman, he would haul a suitcase of laundry about a mile away to another lady who washed the clothes. Later, he would pick up the clean clothes and take them back. He was paid 25 cents for each trip and always gave the money directly to mother. During the summer he would caddie at the Racine Country Club and deliver ice. On another job he set pins in a local bowling alley. Santo would work until midnight on Fridays and Saturdays and then walk home alone. It was a scary trip because the darkness reminded him of the many "ghost" stories which were told as entertainment during family gatherings. The storyteller would always insist that the account was true which did nothing for Santo's peace of mind during those long, lonely walks home. He kept working, however, and continued to give his wages to mother. Vincent would occasionally try to save a few of his hard-earned pennies for himself, but it didn't always work out in his favor.

One time he broke a window and just because my parents knew that he had a dollar saved, he had to use his money to pay the bill. It was important to father that the boys learned to be self-sufficient and, consequently, he would not buy them anything frivolous. Faced with that challenge, Santo regularly visited a junk yard near by and eventually picked up enough parts to fashion a bicycle. It was amazing how well that bike turned out. He certainly appreciated the mobility of transportation which allowed him to go fishing at the local quarry.

Fearing he would drown, mother warned him to not go into the water but he chanced it anyway. She punished him whenever she found out. Despite her resistance, Santo managed to teach himself how to swim safely. Frequently he would bring home fresh fish and mother would cook them up for us. Not all of Santo's junk yard creations were as successful as the bike, however. Once he fashioned a gun out of parts he found, put in a bullet, and shot! Somehow the bullet went through his hand, but luckily it did not do too much damage. My horrified parents punished him and made him get rid of the gun. Also in the spirit of independence, the boys managed to have their share of adventures.

One spring day, Vincent and Santo went to the north pier on Lake Michigan to fish. A terrible storm came up we were frantic with worry that they had fallen into the water and drowned. When the weather quieted, the boys returned home explaining,

"Mother, why do you worry so, we just hid during the worst of the storm under the Yacht Club hanging on to the stilts."

"Boys, I'm relieved and happy to see you but don't ever make me worry like that again!" mother exclaimed. Besides self-sufficiency, taught us what it meant to honest and honorable.

One day young Louis decided he had to have a pair of shoes. He knew he would be going to school and he didn't want to attend without shoes, being concerned about what the other students might think. He knew where some money was kept in the house next door. He took enough money to buy some shoes and brought it to his mother asking her to get the shoes for him. Later that day the neighbor came over and accused Louis of taking the money. Upon hearing the complaint our stern father grabbed a piece of wood and hit Louis sending him flying down the basement steps. He was punished beyond that beating and on that day learned the meaning of being honest and the value placed on protecting the family name. It was a hard but important lesson for young Louis and all of us as we witnessed what happened. Father also had his own way of motivating his children.

When Louis decided that he wanted to follow after father and learn to play the accordion he was not given much encouragement. Father would send a message to challenge us. He told Louis that wouldn't be able to learn how to play such an instrument. His challenge made Louis determined to prove his father wrong. Father even went so far as to force him to practice in the garage. In the end, the reverse psychology worked and Louis became an exceptional accordion player. He performed professionally throughout the rest of his life. Feeding our large and extended family was a constant challenge and drain on family resources.

Homemade bread and potatoes were the staple items. On most mornings, mother would go shopping at one of the nearby grocery stores. She was not able to get more than two bags of groceries at a time because she had to carry them home herself. Breakfast was informal with everyone helping themselves to bread and butter dipped in coffee, as milk was prohibitively expensive back then. Lunch, however, was more organized. Daily I would peel and fry enough potatoes to feed the entire family. Everyone came home at noon as there was no food served in school and no money to eat at a restaurant. Again, resources would not permit anything more extravagant than a potato-based meal with some extras. During the afternoon we would prepare supper which was typically a delicious stew composed mainly of vegetables from our own garden and pasta. It seemed as if we were always making bread.

My brother Louis often mentioned how hungry the wonderful aroma of the fresh bread made him, and yet mother insisted that we eat the day-old bread first. She wouldn't tolerate wasting any food. Occasionally, she would give in and let us have some hot, sliced bread with butter. Our family garden provided many of our nutritional needs. It was large lot of land and very much a family project. Actually, home gardens were a common sight for everyone in the neighborhood. We had a good time comparing crop quality with the neighbors. The effort began each spring with my father hand spading the large piece of land which was next to our house. When old enough, the boys all helped. Father planted mostly tomatoes for canning. They were needed all year for spaghetti sauce and other dishes. He also grew onions, radishes, green beans, green peppers, zucchini, Italian spinach called rappa, endive and a few others. In the fall, canning would begin.

The tomatoes took the most time, but we also canned any other vegetables and fruits that were available. Mother worked hard trying to keep the vegetables fresh for as long as possible. She instinctively understood the health value of fresh verses cooked food. She covered the endive and placed green tomatoes in sand to help them last until Christmas. There were no freezers back then, only ice boxes. The ice man would come once or twice a week to leave a large block of ice on the top shelf of the box which had only a limited capacity to keep a few things cool. In the fall, father would order enough red and white grapes to make two or three barrels of wine.

We were always happy to see the grapes arrive because we were allowed to eat as many of them as we liked before the wine-making process began. Before we owned a grape grinder, the men and boys would scrub their feet and proceed to mash the grapes in large tubs. This was always a lot of fun. The grapes would then be left to ferment in the barrels. The final stages of curing and processing were quite demanding but worth the effort because the wine always turned out so good. At supper, we children were allowed a few sips of wine because our parents thought it would be healthy for us. In the summer, the men would get together and play bocce in the alley next to our home.

The object of the game is to have your ball closest to the much smaller target ball after everyone has played their shot. My father was very good at taking away points from the other players by knocking their ball away while leaving his closest. The losers would then buy a bottle of wine and pass it around. Sometimes they would each bring a bottle of their homemade wine and compare them for color and taste. Most of the time our family's wine would be regarded as the best. Also in the fall, after the rains, the men would go mushroom picking in some wooded areas not far from home.

Wives would fix up lunch baskets with wine so the day would become a picnic as well. The men would come home with large baskets of mushrooms which we had to clean and prepare. They had to be washed several times before being boiled until tender. Some were fried immediately with onions, green peppers, and seasonings and were put in tomato sauce. The rest were canned for winter. Similarly, once a year a large pig was purchased from a nearby farm and slaughtered. The ham parts were salted and hung in the wine cellar. The rest was ground up for sausage and salamis which were also hung up to be cured. Another dish I remember as being so good, began with large pieces of leaf lard which were placed in a tub on the stove to be melted.

When melted, all the pork bones from the slaughtered pig would be thrown in to cook until the meat just fell off. The lard was skimmed off the top and placed into large crocks to be used for cooking. On the bottom of the tub, the pieces of pork would settle into the remaining lard. This was placed in smaller crocks to later be spread on bread and warmed in the oven prior to being eaten. We all worked hard but we did take time out to celebrate on special occasions.

The living room rug would be rolled up, wine glasses were filled, the Victrola played music and our family and relatives would dance away their concerns, for a few hours anyway. Father would play his concertina while others sang beautiful, lyrical Italian songs. After a few glasses of wine Uncle Frank might show off with some gymnastics moves. He would balance himself on a chair, upside down on his head while we all held our breath hoping he wouldn't fall. Mother, of course, always stayed busy serving sandwiches and cake. From early on I remember joining in on the gaiety and dancing with my uncles and cousins.

I loved to dance during such festivities and for days afterward I would dream of dancing professionally as part of the cast in a musical stage production. My brothers, Louis and Frank, also showed an interest and aptitude for music by being able to play song they heard by ear without any formal training. Holidays were significant times for the family. Our activities centered around church-related traditions and special foods.

Christmas Eve was a day of fasting and no meat was allowed in our Catholic tradition. The evening meal featured fish, baccala (cod), perch and calamari (squid), along with a vegetable stew. On Christmas day we were served a festive version of spaghetti with chicken, sausage and salads served on the side. Dessert honey cookies completed the feast. Before the meal, each child, beginning with the oldest boy, Santo, kissed the hand of both mother and father as a gesture of love and respect. It was not our custom to exchange gifts, however, when relatives visited during the Christmas season, money was given to the children by the adults. Our traditions left me confused because of what I heard in school.

When I was in the second grade, the teacher told us that Santa Claus would come down the chimney on Christmas Eve and bring gifts for all the good children. Naturally, I believed all this. Knowing we did not have a fire place, I would hang my stockings outside the door. Of course, mother did not understand what I was doing, so on Christmas morning I would find my stocking empty. I believed at the time that the reason for the empty stocking was because I had not been a very good girl. Fortunately, I found out before long that there really was no Santa Claus. On New Year's Eve the tradition was for the men to step outside their front doors at midnight and shoot whatever firearms they had in the house.

The children huddled in one corner of our porch and shivered with excitement. The women were fearful and for good reason. Many of the men were wielding those guns in a drunken state. Their aim was not always accurate. The next day bullet holes would be found through windows and in walls. One year Gregorio narrowly escaped a gun-related disaster as a misdirected bullet ricocheted ending up under this eye. Miraculously, it fell to the floor harmlessly when he pulled up his eyelid to check on the discomfort. The Easter season began with Ash Wednesday.

The day before Ash Wednesday (the beginning of Lent) was called Mardi Gras Tuesday and was celebrated by having lasagna for dinner. In the early years, the men would dress up in costumes and go to the homes of relatives and collect simple gifts. Lasagna was a special meal served only on that day as it was expensive to make. It had small meatballs in sauce which were placed with three different kinds of cheeses between layers of noodles. There were many special foods that accompanied the Easter celebration.

Anise bread was made with whole eggs caught in a crisscross of bread dough on top of the loaf. Mother also made a raised dough for a fried doughnut called pittichella. Some were filled with anchovies. On Easter morning we ate egg frittata which was similar to an unfolded omelet. Mother's frittata was made with eggs, cheeses, and sausage. There was a certain knack to cooking it until it was lightly browned on one side when it was turned over to cook on the other side. We all regarded these special foods as a seasonal treat. Although the holidays were festive times, all too soon we were back to our normal routines of chores, chores and more chores.

Up until eighth grade I had the diversion of school but when I graduated I was expected to work full time at home, taking my place at my mother's side. I was allowed to attend vocational school part time but I was not allowed to look for a job. Our family was still growing and with child number nine, when Frank was only two months old, my uncle decided it was time to remodel our house to make more living space for all of us.

His plan involved tearing down one side of our home during the reconstruction. My father decided that it would be impossible to live there while this was being done so he bought another house which was not far away. The new house was much more spacious and comfortable to live in, especially with the added features of a hot water heater and a furnace. Upstairs there were bedrooms and a separate room with a bath tub. Finally there was enough space for each of the older boys to have their own bed. The toilet, however, was still in the basement in a small room.

The first floor had a living room, a large combined dining and family room, and a kitchen. The kitchen was not large enough to accommodate all of us, so we set up those activities in the basement. Down there we had a long table that would seat 12. The coal-burning furnace with a large coal bin was in the next room. The floors were all linoleum so they were easier to clean, although we still had to do them on our hands and knees because mother did not like to use wet mops. The first-floor kitchen was only used for company. Around this time I had been hoping that mother would not have any more children. At school I kept getting teased about what a large family we had. A year and a half later, however, I noticed that mother was pregnant once again.

This was upsetting, but once my sister Rose was born, we were all very happy. A year later, I graduated from the eighth grade. I was supposed to continue on to high school, but father thought I should stay home to help mother. I was, of course, obedient but nonetheless disappointed at having to discontinue my education. I had good grades, especially in art and English and enjoyed writing stories and poems. I was also a home-run hitter on our ball team. Although I was no longer attending classes, there still were many occasions when I was able to help my brothers and sisters with their home work.

My brother Louis was in the ninth grade when he was asked to write a poem for English class. He came to me for help and I obliged with a poem that earned him an A+. The teacher didn't believe he wrote it, however, and checked poetry books around school expecting to find it already published. Because of experiences like this I often wondered what my life might have been like had I continued my education. Besides missing the enjoyment of classroom activities, I was sorry to have had to give up the kind attention I got from some of my teachers. Several were quite helpful to immigrant children and often offered extra help and encouragement.

Vincent, for example, had difficulty building his basic learning skills at an early age until a compassionate teacher tutored him when he blossomed into quite a good student. Generally, the teachers were also responsible for the Americanization of our first names. From my own experience, when the kindergarten teacher heard my name, "Elrida," she commented that it sounded like "Irene" which I used from then on. We assumed that the schools promoted this practice to help us be more easily assimilated into our community. So with the end of my formal education, my days were filled with home-related activities instead of baseball and books.

As would be expected, the continuous assortment of cooking and cleaning activities grew with our family, and mother and I were kept very busy. On Mondays and Fridays we did the laundry. For many years, the clothes were scrubbed by hand on a wash board with bar soap. Eventually, father bought a wringer washer to help mother out, but the clothes still had to be soaked and scrubbed on a washboard before being placed in the machine. Mother was very fussy about getting everything white and clean. Our clotheslines were always filled in the back yard. As the clothes dried we would sprinkle some with water, to prepare them for ironing, and fold others. I would begin to iron in the afternoon and never finished until late at night.

During the Depression, the irons were heated on the kitchen stove to save money on electricity. In the summer the whole room would get unbearably hot with this activity. Housecleaning tasks involved the usual daily activities of dusting, making beds, dishes, etc., as well as the big jobs which we tackled on the weekends. Because we didn't have a vacuum cleaner, each spring meant taking out the living room rug and pounding it with a rug beater as it hung over a clothes line. We also took out the mattresses and the box springs (which in those days were exposed metal and not enclosed in fabric) to rinse with a hose and treat with chemicals to kill any unwanted insect pests. Mother and I hauled eight beds worth of mattresses and springs up and down the stairs ourselves. Later, father did buy a vacuum cleaner which saved us a lot of work.

We also had lace curtains that had to be carefully washed and dried on a curtain stretcher. Mother and I also shared the care of the younger children. They had to be bathed, dressed, and tended. These tasks I found enjoyable and satisfying. I delighted in styling the girls' hair and dressing them like little dolls with hand-sewn outfits. Our daily routine became disrupted when mother began to have health problems.

All the hard work and child bearing took a toll on her body, and a vein in her leg would sometimes burst. The sight of blood on her skin was very upsetting indeed. I had always known her to be such a hard worker and I didn't like to see her suffer so. When this happened she had to rest in bed for a few weeks. Eventually operations were required for the problem. During her convalescence, I took charge of the household activities and was anxious to spare her any of the related worries. All the household tasks were a too much for one person. The family was helpful and understanding, but the work continued.

When life was more normal, my sewing and hand work activities often continued on into the evening as I was not permitted to go out. In fact, the only occasions when I was allowed out of the house were to attend church and sometimes a movie on Sunday. To pass the time I would crochet or embroider sheets and pillow cases for my hope chest along with many doilies and dresser scarves. I also enjoyed listening to the radio. I loved to hear the new songs and would try to quickly write down the words. In spite of my sheltered life romance did manage to come my way.

I became acquainted with one of Santo's friends, Herman Porcaro, when he would visit the house. After a period of getting acquainted he sent me notes saying that he cared for me. Nature took its course and we were married when I was close to 21 years old. Now, it was up to my younger sister Ester to take my place and assume the burden of household chores.

The men had their work responsibilities outside of the home and the women were expected to take care of the cleaning, washing and cooking. My sister began this daunting task at the age of 12 and soon developed hard work ethic, based on strict routines, that has stayed with her throughout her life. Fortunately for Esther, when she completed eighth grade the law of the land mandated that children attend school until the age of 18. Ester was able to graduate from high school and later completed nursing school, in both cases with high honors. Ester was not the only child of the Bencriscutto clan who could be proud of accomplishments. Around that same time our parents decided to start a tavern business for the boys.

Santo and Vince were both working and Louis was about to graduate from high school. A place a few blocks from home, named Kelly's Korner, was purchased. Vince was due for a promotion at his place of work, but quit his job to take over the business. He managed it very well, showing a profit quickly. When Louis graduated he joined Vince in the business. At times, others in the family worked at various jobs there. My husband also tended bar on the weekends all during the early 1940's.

Customers liked the boys so well that "Kelly's" soon became a very popular spot. Louis entertained every Friday and Saturday night playing his accordion, often with a three-piece band, to the delight of everyone in attendance. Mother had been working right along to help clean the place and eventually began making hot beef sandwiches, to sell, with Uncle Frank's help. People loved those sandwiches so much that many people came to buy one almost every day. Everything went along fine for a few years with the business growing and other members of the family successfully pursuing their interests.

Mike became very good at golf and began winning tournaments and trophies. Mike became a successful competitive golfer, teacher and club professional and became a leader in his field. Esther, Frank, and Fred graduated from high school. Frank and Fred pursued their talents in music and sports. Fred was an exceptional athlete playing basketball through college, eventually earning a Masters Degree in education and working as a high school dean of students. Frank's musical talents led him to a doctor's degree in music and an illustrious career as director of bands at the University of Minnesota. Louis was an accomplished boxer and accordion player. He taught and performed professionally throughout his life. I managed to have two children in two years and was busily taking care of my family. Then our lives were disrupted by World War II.

1942 Original Family

Mother was frantic with worry knowing that her oldest sons would be drafted and that someone might not make it through. Because of that feeling she insisted on having a family portrait taken. Vince was the first to be called into service with Louis and Santo next, and eventually Mike. Mike was later discharged with medical problems, but not long after Fred and Frank enlisted. With five of her boys in the war, mother was in a terrible state. She felt that her whole world was crumbling. When I would visit her, she would come downstairs with red eyes from crying. I believe it was her vigilant, tearful praying which brought them all home safe and sound. During this period Esther decided to attend nursing school.

Because of the war, the expenses connected with her nurses training were provided by the government with the stipulation that when she graduated Esther would serve in the nurses corps if needed. The program required that she leave home to live in a dormitory. Mother and father were reluctant to let her go because they felt she was needed at home with the boys off to war. Esther persisted, however, and graduated three years later. There have been occasions over the years when we were all grateful for Esther's nursing talents as she compassionately cared for family members who needed her.

While Esther was away at school, Antoinette and Rose took on the household activities while still keeping up their high school studies. Both girls eventually graduated and continued to help mother. When the war was finally over, the boys came home and quickly began to get on with their lives. Vince married a girl he met in Texas where he had been stationed. They had a baby and moved in with my parents for a while upon returning to Racine. Mike also married and resumed his golf activities. He continued to win many awards and tournaments until he was eventually entered in the Milwaukee Hall of Fame. His resulting, very successful career as Pro at Racine golf courses made him a distinguished community personality. Esther and Louis also married.

Louis became quite accomplished at the accordion and went to technical school for a degree in music. He ran his own accordion studio for years. In 1969, Vincent, Santo, and Louis sold Kelly's Korner and took on the operation of The Spinning Wheel Restaurant. Fred and Frank went on to college at the University of Wisconsin in Madison. Fred distinguished himself there playing basketball while earning his undergraduate degree. Upon graduation, he went to work as a coach and teacher at a high school in Illinois and later got his Masters degree and became the Dean of Students there. Frank won a scholarship and later went on to complete a Doctorate in music.

Frank has had a much acclaimed career at the University of Minnesota as Director of Bands for 32 years. To name but one of the many noteworthy events that occurred during that time, his University Concert Band was invited to be one of the first groups to participate in an international cultural exchange which was organized by the U.S. Department of State. They were invited to play in the Soviet Union, China, Germany, Italy, and other European countries. Of the many honors given Frank over the years, perhaps the most memorable was a request to play at the White House for President Nixon following the Russian tour.

Antoinette's husband also attended college after the war. While he earning his doctorate in Audiology, she worked to help with the expenses. Upon graduation, he accepted a faculty position as Director of Audiology in the Department of Otolaryngology, College of Medicine of The Ohio State University in Columbus, Ohio; serving in that capacity over 30 years until his retirement in 1992. Rose, the youngest, helped me as a young girl by baby-sitting and occasionally running errands. She later married a man in the trucking business and they raised a beautiful family. Actually, we have ten beautiful families which were raised by my brothers, sisters, and me:

Santo and Mary 3 children, 5 grandchildren

Elrida and Herman 5 children, 11 grandchildren

Vince and Jane 2 children, 3 grandchildren

Louis and Adeline 3 children, 4 grandchildren

Mike and Martha 5 children, 5 grandchildren

Esther and Dante 2 children, 2 grandchildren

Fred and Irene 4 children, 3 grandchildren

Antoinette and Ernie 2 children, 1 grandchild

Frank and Jean 3 children, 3 grandchildren

Rose and Ray 5 children, 8 grandchildren

1962 Family Photo

1962 Original Family Photo

Father passed away on September 21, 1970, at the age of 79, and Mother on October 11, 1975, at the age of 82. No one could deny that from humble beginnings were planted the seeds of much that was and is significant and enduring. While their physical presence may no longer be with us, their strength and spirit live on in the legacy that is

LaFamiglia . . . THE BENCRISCUTTO FAMILY

LAFAMIGLIA 2014

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