Dreams Come True One Day At A Time

By Tom Giglio

The story begins in the post WWII era with Tom Giglio growing up in rural Old Zionsville,
Pennsylvania area. It is in this rural setting of old and new homes that the seeds were
sown to become a homebuilder. The tight-knit community included craftsman and
artisan of all types that started him dreaming.

Around every corner, there was an adventure to be had with his childhood friends,
and those friendships fed into his dreams, eventually turning them into reality.

It was a difficult time for him at age eleven when the family moved back to Virginia,
leaving his childhood home. The memories he left behind in Pennsylvania were
tucked in his heart, and he vowed he would not forget the families and friends of
Old Zionsville. However, in time, he adapted to his new surroundings in Norfolk,
Virginia, and the move opened new and unexpected doors that fulfilled his youthful
ambitions. Life threatening events, demanding challenges, and romance all lead to
a successful endeavor to develop, own, and operate his Construction Company in
Halifax County, Virginia.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jan 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781543999242

Book preview

13

CHAPTER ONE

WHERE IT STARTED

My parents bought our Pennsylvania home some time in 1946.

It was the afternoon of June 8, 2018 when my wife Marlene and I turned onto old Route One. I had promised Marlene for years that we would make a return trip to my old Pennsylvania home place. For years I told her so many stories of the people, places, and the things I did in those childhood days. She wanted to see it all for herself.

As we turned onto Route One, now known as Woodlawn Drive, waves of emotion began to hit me hard. Fifty years, almost to the day, had passed since being on this road. This was the country road that I and the neighbor children walked each morning and afternoon for our school bus ride to and from Kings Highway School. I could tell immediately that many things had changed, but at the same time, much was still the same. The last person that I visited 50 years ago was Linda Martin, the daughter of the family who bought our home in 1960. When planning this trip, I had learned that the Martins sold the property fifteen or so years earlier to the Boyco family, after which Mr. Martin passed away. I had made prior arrangements with the Boycos to visit with them and to see the old home place that afternoon. I wanted to look around, as well as show them some of my old treasured photos. All I could think about was how my childhood journey had begun, and what this home place represented to me. Of equal importance were the families of this small community, and the impact they had made upon me in my life’s journey.

My world as a child consisted of my father John Giglio, my mother Violet Giglio, my brother Jack and his wife Luci Burger Giglio, and my sister Susan. In those early days, my extended world was made up of my best friends Billy Vargo, Elizabeth and Beverly Parkerson, and Billy’s uncle Richard Schmaldinst. There were three cats, Boots, Mittens, and Twinkle, and one Dalmatian dog named Mitzi. That’s the early day’s cast. More players showed up in later years. The Schmaldinst, Vargo, Parkerson, Batman, Keller, Whipple, Sherman, Spencer, Martin and Tate families, all played roles.

Rear view of home place 1946

My story, in many ways, is not unlike the stories of millions of other children growing up across the United States during that period of time. It was many years into adulthood before I really understood the impact that this beautiful countryside and its people, although a small community, had made upon my life. As we drove slowly up Woodlawn Drive, it was those eleven years of adventures and learning experiences that filled my mind.

Our home was about two miles from Old Zionsville located in Lehigh County, also known as stone country. About half the old homes were constructed of stone, most of them quite old. The old stone homes always had walls sixteen to eighteen inches thick, with horsehair mortar holding it all together. Our house was a combination of frame construction with a rear two story stone wing. I guess it to be about 180 years old at the time of this writing.

The first stop of our afternoon’s agenda was to visit Paul and Mary Batman; the Batmans were our neighbors, with their land adjoining our then property along one side. The Batmans had never moved, and it was incredible to visit them. We immediately began to recall the old days. Paul and Mary had raised three daughters, one of whom I could recall. Tragically, they had lost one of their daughters in an automobile accident on highway 29.

Their oldest daughter Linda was present on this day’s visit to help kindle the memories of those many years in the past. We leafed through my treasure trove of old photos I had brought along. It had been fifty-eight years since seeing this family last; but as we sat talking, it felt as though it had been only last week, and the many years of time dissolved. For a moment, it seemed that everything was just as it once had been, and that I could just walk out their front door back to my old home place, and everything would be as it once was.

How the mind can play tricks on one like that, I don’t know, but the time we spent visiting with the Batman family passed very quickly, and Marlene and I were to visit with the Boyco family next. I put up a good front, but it was a very hard thing to do. I had promised myself I would be totally devoid of any emotion, no matter what happened. For the most part, I was successful; but when visiting with William Sr. and his wife Rose Vargo, my plan fell apart. There was just too much emotion involved, and it became almost impossible to explain what they meant to me. They are just such a fine family in the way they cared about us kids so very much. I was well into life before I understood how important community and environment is during our youth.

CHAPTER TWO

BEGINNINGS

My family moved from Virginia to Allentown during the war years. My Dad had been involved in aircraft manufacturing in Bristol, Virginia, in Buffalo, New York and later in Allentown, Pennsylvania, for the war effort. He worked for Consolidated Vultee Aircraft Corp., located in Allentown, from 1943 until the end of the war. In 1946, Dad, Mom, Jack, and Susan moved to what we called The Farm, or Route Number One, Zionsville. My father named the farm Buena Vista. The family had been there about two years before I came into the world. The remodeling of this old gem of a house was well underway, and I grew up with a work in progress.

Remodeling work was well underway when the old front porch was removed. 1947

The house was two stories, with a basement and an attic level as well. When facing the house from the front, a central stairway divides the house with the living room to the left, and dining room and kitchen to the right. The stone wing that was attached to the rear of the house had one large room with a few steps leading down into that room. In the corner where the stone wing was attached to the main house was a porch with a room above.

The second floor, again facing the house from the front, was divided by the stairway that leads to the attic, with Dad and Mom’s bedroom to the left of the stairway, and Susan’s bedroom to the right, as well as the bath. Jack’s bedroom was down a few steps in the rear stone wing. My bedroom was over the rear porch.

On the attic level, there were two rooms that flanked a central stairway from the second floor. The rooms were full height in the center, with the ceiling section about five feet wide in the middle, and then sloping to knee walls about five feet tall on each side. Both rooms were about fourteen feet long. The central hall was about eight feet wide, making the house about thirty six feet in total width. Each attic room had one entry door from the central hall. At each end of both rooms were small windows about 2x3 feet with chimneys located between the windows. As one came up the stairway, the room to the right was used for storage, and the one to the left was the perfect play room for us children.

Picture taken by my brother Jack, 1946 View Looking from apple orchard above my old home place. Notice the rows of apple trees in the far distance. That apple orchard farm was on the other side of Highway 29.

The farm consisted of about 55 acres, with a large apple orchard lying to the upper side of the property. Below the house was a large field and just below the stone retaining wall, by the road is where mother had a garden every year. For the first couple of years however, the garden was next to the driveway that ran along the side of the house.

The first gardens were next to the house just beyond the driveway. Jack and Mom