Edna’s Memoir
By Rosanne Gulisano
I blog about snippets and snapshots of the memoirs and life stories of everyday folks attending my Lifestories workshops. I have changed the names, but the stories are the real thing, from the plain and simple to the exotic and dangerous. Enjoy!
Home of the Blues
Edna lived on Beale Street in Memphis, Tennessee, a street known for its bluesy rhythm. Memphis was a much smaller, more intimate place back then. She was one of five children, three girls and two boys. Her warmest memories are of growing up on Beale Street, especially at Christmas time.
She tells of Christmas as warm as a day in May, when she and all her siblings and cousins would laugh and play until Mama called them in for a huge dinner. The street was alive with families, music and joy. Her mama was an excellent cook and all of the aunts brought their specialty dishes as well. The long table was heaped with the dishes of the South, fried chicken and collard greens, candied yams and Hoppin’ John and other mouth-watering delights.
After returning from his arduous service in World War II, her father was disillusioned with the Jim Crow South. He was not happy with that status quo after risking his life for his country, and he moved his family north to a farm in Lockport, Illinois.
The city family became a country family. The adjustment was not easy. Rural Lockport was farm country with few amenities. There was no running water or electricity for a time on their farm and they all learned how to do chores quite foreign to their Memphis upbringing. And the winter weather—Oh my!
Breaking those close family ties made the move painful. Life in Illinois was a challenge. The memories of her years in Memphis, the Blues capitol, are some of Edna’s warmest moments.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Judith’s Memoir
By Rosanne Gulisano
I blog about snippets and snapshots of the memoirs and life stories of everyday folks attending my Lifestories workshops. I have changed the names, but the stories are the real thing, from the plain and simple to the exotic and dangerous. Enjoy!
Meeting the Challenges
Judith is a small woman who looks as fragile as a china teacup. She has snow-white hair and walks slowly and deliberately, but without a cane. She lives in a senior building in Chicago and attends most of the exercise classes provided there, preferring those conducted in the swimming pool. Her voice is soft, forcing those who listen to lean in to hear her, but her story is compelling. She has a strong German accent, though she has been in the United States for many years.
Judith was a 16-year-old high school, living in Munich, when the Nazis took power. Her family is Jewish. Changes that rocked their world started to take place almost immediately. Judith was summarily dismissed from her high school. Her father, a physician, lost most, and later all, of his non-Jewish patients. Life had become inconvenient, but the family was not yet alarmed.
As the next few years passed, the doctor became convinced that he must get his family out of Germany. He made arrangements for a distant cousin in Chicago to sponsor Judith and she came to America by ship in 1938. She thinks the ship was the “Aquatania,” but that memory has faded.
Judith arrived in Chicago at age 18, alone and speaking no English. She had always enjoyed a comfortable, middle class lifestyle. Her cousins, whom she had never met, took her into their home and put her to work as a domestic servant, cooking, cleaning and taking care of their children. Judith was trying to save money to send home to her mother, so that she could leave the country also. The cousins kept most of Judith’s wages for “room and board” and she still managed to save a little each week. She got her mother out of Germany just one day before war was declared and the country was sealed off. Her father was arrested and they never found out what happened to him. She remembers him as a kind and generous man.
Judith and her mother set up housekeeping in a small rooming house. She joined the Army cadet nursing corps for the remainder of the war, received nurses training and served her new country here in America, nursing injured U.S. military men.
She met her husband, had two children and worked as a registered nurse throughout her married life. She speaks fondly of her beloved husband, her former neighbors, her two sons, daughters-in-law and grandchildren and her days on the south side of Chicago where her favorite spot was always the neighborhood swimming pool.
This miniscule, white-haired hero with the bright blue eyes has quite a story to tell.
By Rosanne Gulisano
I blog about snippets and snapshots of the memoirs and life stories of everyday folks attending my Lifestories workshops. I have changed the names, but the stories are the real thing, from the plain and simple to the exotic and dangerous. Enjoy!
Meeting the Challenges
Judith is a small woman who looks as fragile as a china teacup. She has snow-white hair and walks slowly and deliberately, but without a cane. She lives in a senior building in Chicago and attends most of the exercise classes provided there, preferring those conducted in the swimming pool. Her voice is soft, forcing those who listen to lean in to hear her, but her story is compelling. She has a strong German accent, though she has been in the United States for many years.
Judith was a 16-year-old high school, living in Munich, when the Nazis took power. Her family is Jewish. Changes that rocked their world started to take place almost immediately. Judith was summarily dismissed from her high school. Her father, a physician, lost most, and later all, of his non-Jewish patients. Life had become inconvenient, but the family was not yet alarmed.
As the next few years passed, the doctor became convinced that he must get his family out of Germany. He made arrangements for a distant cousin in Chicago to sponsor Judith and she came to America by ship in 1938. She thinks the ship was the “Aquatania,” but that memory has faded.
Judith arrived in Chicago at age 18, alone and speaking no English. She had always enjoyed a comfortable, middle class lifestyle. Her cousins, whom she had never met, took her into their home and put her to work as a domestic servant, cooking, cleaning and taking care of their children. Judith was trying to save money to send home to her mother, so that she could leave the country also. The cousins kept most of Judith’s wages for “room and board” and she still managed to save a little each week. She got her mother out of Germany just one day before war was declared and the country was sealed off. Her father was arrested and they never found out what happened to him. She remembers him as a kind and generous man.
Judith and her mother set up housekeeping in a small rooming house. She joined the Army cadet nursing corps for the remainder of the war, received nurses training and served her new country here in America, nursing injured U.S. military men.
She met her husband, had two children and worked as a registered nurse throughout her married life. She speaks fondly of her beloved husband, her former neighbors, her two sons, daughters-in-law and grandchildren and her days on the south side of Chicago where her favorite spot was always the neighborhood swimming pool.
This miniscule, white-haired hero with the bright blue eyes has quite a story to tell.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Merilee’s Memoir
By Rosanne Gulisano
I blog about snippets and snapshots of the memoirs and life stories of everyday folks attending my Lifestories workshops. I have changed the names, but the stories are the real thing, from the plain and simple to the sinister and dangerous. Enjoy!
Merilee journeyed with a group of volunteers to build a school in Uganda in Africa. The sponsors were part of a not-for-profit organization focusing on filling the needs of fellow citizens of the world in some of our planet’s poorest regions.
Merilee, at 23, was anxious to serve her fellow human beings by becoming a “human doing,” that is, someone who hears and responds to a call to action. She is a gutsy young woman willing to sacrifice a month of her time to live in less than optimal conditions in a land suffering the effects years of drought and war. She did not really know what to expect.
When her group of 17 volunteers arrived in the Ugandan village by bus, after a long and dusty ride, they were greeted effusively. The people of the village, dressed in bright colors, most of them barefoot, lined the dirt road leading into the conclave of huts. They were singing and chanting and their faces glowed with the most beautiful smiles.
As the group began their work the next day, they labored for hours in the hot African sun. The villagers worked right along side the American volunteers. Donated building materials were assembled and the walls began to grow as the days passed.
At night, the Americans were bused to a town almost two hours away on the bumpy roads to a small, unglamorous hotel with limited hot water and spotty electrical service. They quickly realized, after a few days, what a lucky and pampered society they came from back in the States.
After 23 days, the project was finished and the dedication ceremony took place under a blazing sun. The villagers were dressed in their best. They honored and thanked the volunteer group with singing and dancing and the awarding of a plaque for Merilee and her group to bring home. There was also a plaque installed on the school site with the name of the organization and the date of the building’s completion.
Merilee returned home with her fellow workers and had a deeper understanding of the human condition and what it meant to serve others. She never saw her surroundings in the same way again. Gratitude abounds in Merilee’s life.
By Rosanne Gulisano
I blog about snippets and snapshots of the memoirs and life stories of everyday folks attending my Lifestories workshops. I have changed the names, but the stories are the real thing, from the plain and simple to the sinister and dangerous. Enjoy!
Merilee journeyed with a group of volunteers to build a school in Uganda in Africa. The sponsors were part of a not-for-profit organization focusing on filling the needs of fellow citizens of the world in some of our planet’s poorest regions.
Merilee, at 23, was anxious to serve her fellow human beings by becoming a “human doing,” that is, someone who hears and responds to a call to action. She is a gutsy young woman willing to sacrifice a month of her time to live in less than optimal conditions in a land suffering the effects years of drought and war. She did not really know what to expect.
When her group of 17 volunteers arrived in the Ugandan village by bus, after a long and dusty ride, they were greeted effusively. The people of the village, dressed in bright colors, most of them barefoot, lined the dirt road leading into the conclave of huts. They were singing and chanting and their faces glowed with the most beautiful smiles.
As the group began their work the next day, they labored for hours in the hot African sun. The villagers worked right along side the American volunteers. Donated building materials were assembled and the walls began to grow as the days passed.
At night, the Americans were bused to a town almost two hours away on the bumpy roads to a small, unglamorous hotel with limited hot water and spotty electrical service. They quickly realized, after a few days, what a lucky and pampered society they came from back in the States.
After 23 days, the project was finished and the dedication ceremony took place under a blazing sun. The villagers were dressed in their best. They honored and thanked the volunteer group with singing and dancing and the awarding of a plaque for Merilee and her group to bring home. There was also a plaque installed on the school site with the name of the organization and the date of the building’s completion.
Merilee returned home with her fellow workers and had a deeper understanding of the human condition and what it meant to serve others. She never saw her surroundings in the same way again. Gratitude abounds in Merilee’s life.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Victor's Memoir
Victor’s Memoir
By Rosanne Gulisano
I blog about snippets and snapshots of the memoirs and life stories of everyday folks attending my Lifestories workshops. I have changed the names, but the stories are the real thing, from the plain and simple to the sinister and dangerous. Enjoy!
Victor is and has been a husband, a father, a son—but his very favorite role in life is “Grandpa.” When asked to bring in a photograph that tells a story, he brought in color photos of his three grandkids, now ages 15-19.
A few years ago, Victor reached retirement age and left his job at Lucent Technologies. Feeling bored, he tried joining his wife, Wanda, in the real estate business. He got his real estate license and began working, but quickly discovered it was definitely not for him.
As if on cue, another opportunity appeared. His daughter, the mother of his three grandchildren, was offered a wonderful job. She was torn, as many mothers are, at the thought of leaving her children, then 5, 7 and 9, in daycare or after school care.
Not many grandfathers would take this on, but Victor stepped up and volunteered to be the children’s full time babysitter. She accepted his offer.
Victor writes of these as being the most wonderful years of his life. He was a hands-on babysitter, helping with homework, supervising arts and crafts, serving as “teacher” when they played “school,” and as “husband” when the youngest, a little girl, wanted to play “house.” What would make most grandpas groan, Victor jumped into with both feet, eagerly becoming mentor and playmate to these three lucky children.
He wiped a few tears away when reading his story to the class. Those memories were obviously precious and touching to him. Victor remembers them with clarity and delight and I am sure his grandchildren feel a special closeness to this ordinary, yet extraordinary man.
By Rosanne Gulisano
I blog about snippets and snapshots of the memoirs and life stories of everyday folks attending my Lifestories workshops. I have changed the names, but the stories are the real thing, from the plain and simple to the sinister and dangerous. Enjoy!
Victor is and has been a husband, a father, a son—but his very favorite role in life is “Grandpa.” When asked to bring in a photograph that tells a story, he brought in color photos of his three grandkids, now ages 15-19.
A few years ago, Victor reached retirement age and left his job at Lucent Technologies. Feeling bored, he tried joining his wife, Wanda, in the real estate business. He got his real estate license and began working, but quickly discovered it was definitely not for him.
As if on cue, another opportunity appeared. His daughter, the mother of his three grandchildren, was offered a wonderful job. She was torn, as many mothers are, at the thought of leaving her children, then 5, 7 and 9, in daycare or after school care.
Not many grandfathers would take this on, but Victor stepped up and volunteered to be the children’s full time babysitter. She accepted his offer.
Victor writes of these as being the most wonderful years of his life. He was a hands-on babysitter, helping with homework, supervising arts and crafts, serving as “teacher” when they played “school,” and as “husband” when the youngest, a little girl, wanted to play “house.” What would make most grandpas groan, Victor jumped into with both feet, eagerly becoming mentor and playmate to these three lucky children.
He wiped a few tears away when reading his story to the class. Those memories were obviously precious and touching to him. Victor remembers them with clarity and delight and I am sure his grandchildren feel a special closeness to this ordinary, yet extraordinary man.
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