MEMORIES: A Collection of Stories of Family Life in the 30_s 40_s and 50_s

By Robert E. Pavese

This is an attempt to bring to life some of the memories of joys, hardships, and lessons learned from life in the 1930s and 1940s in the great nation, the United States of America. With the Depression and World Wars I and II came a need for people to care for each other in order to survive and to save and rebuild families and communities.

Our family had extremely limited resources but extremely unlimited desires for a dignified lifestyle in the midst of those hardships.

Family and friends were one and the same when it came to caring for each other. How blessed we would all be if the lessons learned back then were applied to our day-by-day lives today.

Today, many neighbors are strangers to each other, and there seems to be a general disregard for the needs of others. Consequently, the government has been able to move in quickly to fill the gap at the expense of the dignity of the people of our great nation.

Freedom is not without struggle and strife for life, liberty, and dignity.

Thank you.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9781685266646

Book preview

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MEMORIES: A Collection of Stories of Family Life in the 30_s 40_s and 50_s

Robert E. Pavese

ISBN 978-1-68526-663-9 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-68526-664-6 (Digital)

Copyright © 2022 Robert E. Pavese

All rights reserved

First Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Covenant Books

11661 Hwy 707

Murrells Inlet, SC 29576

www.covenantbooks.com

Table of Contents

Introduction to My Father's Siblings

My Mother's Family Pepe

My First Job

My Nanny

The Days of WWII…

My Most Precious Sister

Route Men of the '30s and '40s

My Near-Death Experience

Bootleg Wine

The Cemetery

The Leaky Spoon

Everybody's Aunt Jean

Uncle Tony the Blacksmith

Uncle Patsy and the House Thief

Our Brother Richie

Uncle Patsy Gets Drafted

Turtle Soup

My Real Friend Bobby

Nailed

My First Hunting Trip to Maine

The Butt

My Italian Surprise

Stitches

The Forty-Seven-Year Famine

God's Perfect Plan

Working on a Chain Gang

My Adventures with Patty

My Dad's Dream House

Sports Memories

Another Favorite Sport

Quicksand

Duck My Ass!

Lost in the Mountains

Frozen

Double on Pheasants

Grouse Hunting

Meet the Reverend

My Son Rob

REMEMBERING ALL THE MEN AND WOMEN WHO SACRIFICED TO KEEP US FREE

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Introduction to My Father's Siblings

The Paveses

This chapter is not meant to be a record of the family tree. It is to familiarize one with the varied personalities in order to add to the understanding of any references to each individual. My father's living siblings were as follows:

The oldest of the ten was Joseph. He was a plumber and at one time the chief of police. He was a quiet man and loved to hunt and fish.

Next of the seven brothers was Frank. He was an extremely moody man, possessing great talent in woodworking and construction. He was building inspector in Emerson for many years. His effectiveness was unmatched. He also loved to hunt and fish.

Anthony (Tony) was next, and he was a blacksmith, also loving to hunt and fish.

Salvatore, my father, was next. He was quiet, but when he spoke, everyone listened. He was a plumber and in business with Joseph. Hunting and fishing were his passion.

Dominick followed, and he was a carpenter and an excellent stonemason. Again, hunting and fishing were his passion. He was mostly quiet but moody.

Pasquale (Patsy) came next. He was a constable, carpenter, and mason. He was an avid hunter, fisherman, and exaggerator.

John was the baby of the bunch. He owned the only grocery store in town—partners with his oldest sister, Mary. He played guitar, hunted, and fished.

There were three sisters. Mary was the oldest, and due to her mother's death, she stayed at home to raise the family and never married.

Angelina was next of the sisters. She was married to Edward, a gentleman, obviously not fitting the Pavese image of roughness.

Margaret was the youngest of the sisters. They called her Pussycat because she was tender and loving. She also married a gentleman named Charles, who also was not fitting the mold of the Paveses.

I hope that these descriptions will suffice to bring more meaning to any references to them.

My Mother's Family Pepe

Mom's family was much smaller. One brother, Andrew, who was a plumber and a thirty-third-degree Mason. He was extremely intelligent and very loud spoken.

Eugenie (my mom) was, of course, a great cook and loved to play the piano. She was everyone's Aunt Jean.

More later about family activities.

My First Job

Helping on a Bread Truck

I was seven years old when I went to work on the bread truck. It was Monday, Wednesday, and Friday after school and all day Saturday. Saturday was the best, except for the monkey, because it was the day people paid their bills. We had two customers, Mrs. Forina and Mrs. Magrath, whose bills came to nineteen cents. They each always gave me two dimes and let me keep the penny. I couldn't wait for Saturday because I also got paid seven cents every week. During the week was another story. The number of smacks I got depended largely on the weather. We had a few family mafia members from NYC who were older, and you might say put out to pasture. They all had grape arbors, made wine, and constantly were under the grape arbor splitting wood for their little round copper stoves. When the weather was clear, the Italian bread would be crispy, and they would say, "Va, va (go). But when it was humid and they felt the bread was soft, they would say, Veina cua (come here), and they would smack me with the hatchet handle. I would never cry but run back to the truck, and Mr. Pellegrino would say, He hit you, huh?" and I would just shake my head.

The last stop on Saturday night was a restaurant, and Mr. Pellegrino would load all of the leftover bread in my outstretched hands, and I was to take it to the back door of the restaurant, which was about sixty feet from the truck. In the winter, it was extremely cold, for one, because there was no window in my door. My ears kinda flopped out and got very cold. About halfway between the truck and the restaurant back door, there was a big oak tree, and on a long chain was a big monkey. Every week, that monkey would climb on my back and pound on my ears. I could not drop the bread for fear of a couple of good smacks, so I didn't do anything but run.

Finally, I decided to do something about that monkey. It was winter, and it got dark early. I took one long loaf of Italian bread and hid it under my seat. The next week, it was as hard as a baseball bat. When Mr. P went into the back of the panel truck, which had no dome light, to gather the bread, I slipped out the door with the frozen loaf. As I walked the path, I heard the monkey's chain jingle. I swung around with the loaf and hit the monkey square in the temple by coincidence. He had a leg-iron on and hung upside down dead, or so I thought. Now I did cry. I thought I'd get beaten from the owner for killing his monkey and also from Mr. P. for losing his best customer.

I cried out, Please, God, don't let him be dead. They'll kill me. The monkey started to shake and tremble and soon ran up the tree.

After that every Saturday night when we pulled in, you could hear jingle, jingle, jingle, jingling as the monkey ran as high as he could go up the tree and then turned around to see where I was. I'm now eighty years old and still working. I'm considered easygoing, but all that could change in a heartbeat if anyone hits my ears.

The Circus Came to Town

Every year, the fire department sponsored a circus-like carnival on a vacant field about a block from our house. The morning that the circus came to the field, I ran to see them unloading two elephants. The man asked if I wanted to work for money. Of course, I did. He gave me a pail and told me to go home and get water for the elephants. I asked if I should bring a full bucket. I was only nine years old, so I had no idea how much elephants drank. He told me to just keep bringing the water until they didn't want anymore. Hours of running back and forth—finally, they were full.

Next, he took me over to the french fry guy and told me to