Moving down Meacham hill to Gless Avenue by Anthony Buccino
Grandma’s farm was just about the only house on the hill; |
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When my grandparents moved from Passaic Avenue half way down
the hill to Gless Avenue, they literally moved the house down the
hill. In the 1920s or so, when the electric company decided it
wanted to run power lines across Belleville, my grandparents’ house
was in the path. It, and they, had to go.
According
to family legend, Grandpa Domenic and Grandma Lucy sold their lot to
the electric company which had no use for the actual house (or
perhaps, houses) sitting on the land. My grandfather enlisted their
compares, many horses and
logs and somehow literally moved the building(s) to the spot in the
dead end street where our family lived until 1964.
To their advantage, many of Grandma’s relatives lived within
a short walk. One could always count on a cousin, aunt, uncle or
countryman to be passing nearby and always ready to lend a hand,
especially when it was wine tasting time.
Compares
owned the few houses and most of the open land from Harrison Street
to Meacham. Another
paisan
once owned the land that houses Holy Family school, rectory and
church.
In that neighborhood, every open dirt patch became a garden
and in season you could see fig and pear trees rising, six-foot tall
yellow sunflowers, large dark leaves hiding cucumbers, vegetables
growing everywhere and lush grapevine arbors sucking in New Jersey
sunshine and practically hear the dark grapes plumping.
There, on that hill, Grandpa Domenic and Grandma Lucy lived
among kin as in a village as near as could be to life among their
farm folk in Laviano, Italy. The only exception was the poverty they
left behind. It helped that most of the Italians in the neighborhood
spoke the same dialect along and wondered at what little English
their children brought home from school.
In our family history, the name of Grandpa’s first wife has
been lost. She bore him at least one daughter, Assunta, then died in
Italy. Grandpa married Lucy and she bore him more children before
and after they came to America in 1914 or so. Susie married in 1916
at Holy Family Church, her first child was older than some of her
half-siblings.
Susie settled her family in a three-room cold-water flat on
the fourth floor, front, on Fifth Street in Newark, remembers her
daughter Marie. A year younger than the author’s father, Cousin
Marie remembers that her mother often sent her children to grandma’s
house to spend time in the country wilderness that was Gless Avenue
in Belleville.
Grandma’s farm was just about the only house on the hill and
their green farmland stretching as far as the eye could see. Susie’s
seven children thought their grandparents rich because they always
“had good food to eat and there was food available all the time and
they lived in a big house with a big, big yard and we could run as
much as we liked and not worry about getting run over and no one
seemed angry.”
Cousin Marie remembers, “when we left, we carried bags of
vegetables from the garden and fruit from the trees” from Grandpa’s
farm. “It was so bountiful and grandma was so loving and treated us
real good.”
In her childhood Cousin Marie remembers there was only one
other house on Gless Avenue. Grandma owned all the property and the
farm took up the whole block. She says Grandma was loving but not a
good housekeeper, preferring the outdoors, her garden and her
animals.
For Sunday dinner, Grandma cut the head off a chicken and
hung it to drain in the sink, then she’d cook it and serve it with
fresh garden tomato gravy.
Cousin Marie drew water from one of two deep, round,
stone-rimmed wells using wooden buckets held in place by a thick
clothes line. A dipper was always handy for a cool drink.
Grandpa Domenic built a shed and he worked in the back yard
where they grew vegetables galore and raised chickens, pigs and had
a cow, too. Grandpa enjoyed those visits from Susie and her family.
The children grew to love his bald head, his light but ruddy
complexion and bright blue eyes. In turn, Grandpa Domenic visited
them in Newark with his horse and wagon. He took them for rides
around the block and gave each child a nickel before he left.
On February 4, 1929, Grandpa Domenic died of pneumonia at
age 59. He left his wife and children, Connie, Dottie, Joe, Angelo
and Val.
Through the Depression and long after, Grandma had rents
coming in from the second floor and the house next door, but she
lost her property in Nutley to back taxes.
In the beautiful village her “farm” overflowed with fresh
grown food, while chickens and goats wandered about while she tended
her beloved grape vines. On railings of the open-air back porch the
sun dried her tomatoes, peppers, and gourds.
As soon as they were old enough, the boys went off into the
Works Progress Administration, or WPA, and worked on projects in the
Civilian Conservation Corps, CCC. Later, the younger boys were
drafted and the oldest was rejected from service because he had been
born in Italy. Meanwhile, Grandma made due on her small patch of
earth on a hillside in Belleville and waited for word from her boys
overseas. From Greetings from Belleville, New Jersey, Collected writings by Anthony Buccino
Moving
down Meacham hill
first published
Belleville-Nutley Patch on
May 4, 2011 © 2011 by Anthony Buccino
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