tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59223568793025669762024-03-05T05:23:07.819-05:00A LIFETIME LEGACY State of MindWelcome to "A LIFETIME LEGACY State of Mind" blog: Connecting generations and preserving memories of the 20th and 21st centuries. Helping us better understand ourselves and others by learning about our family history: where we came from, WHO we came from, why we are who we are, why we do what we do, why we say what we say. It's our legacy. Let's pass it on. -- Deborah Tomasetti Perham, personal/family historianAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17224956305011956775noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922356879302566976.post-83602115929084796322014-08-14T11:01:00.000-04:002014-08-14T11:14:28.356-04:0021st Century Marketing and The World Blog Tour<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT663otA9EBo-2Mj8f8rCQ5U7zKuiP79kglS40Uf5lR_EFvOHnNyNnQWAyveuDeG_JkDIVqJRNzUEygrfM9crU2YmMmAr0IVg6rL5odu3ItPiHIVN3VYngokphDgl8wYTVT8Av3LSXx10/s1600/tree+frame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT663otA9EBo-2Mj8f8rCQ5U7zKuiP79kglS40Uf5lR_EFvOHnNyNnQWAyveuDeG_JkDIVqJRNzUEygrfM9crU2YmMmAr0IVg6rL5odu3ItPiHIVN3VYngokphDgl8wYTVT8Av3LSXx10/s1600/tree+frame.jpg" height="284" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here I find myself in the second year of my <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.amazon.com/Personal-History-Katharine-Graham/dp/0394585852%3FSubscriptionId%3D0G81C5DAZ03ZR9WH9X82%26tag%3Dzem-20%26linkCode%3Dxm2%26camp%3D2025%26creative%3D165953%26creativeASIN%3D0394585852" rel="amazon" target="_blank" title="Personal History">personal history</a>
preservation business,<a href="http://alifetimelegacy.com/" target="_blank"> A Lifetime Legacy</a>. The last business I started was in
1980. It was a <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Court_reporter" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Court reporter">court reporting</a> agency. Searching for clients was simple: open
up the Yellow Pages, turn to Attorneys, and start calling them. After a few calls, you’ll get your first
client. Done. You’re a business owner. As for 21st century entrepreneurship…quite a
different story. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Yellow Pages? What’s that??”</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Now i</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">t’s about networking,
relationships, social media presence…and the World Blog Tour.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A week or so ago my friend and personal historian colleague,
Linda Shay, reached out to me and told me about the World Blog Tour. Be sure
and check out her blog <a href="http://savinghistory.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Saving History</a>. The World Blog Tour
is a wonderful concept of paying it forward…21st century style. Essentially,
it’s a chain letter for blogs. (<a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chain_letter" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Chain letter">Chain
letters</a> sure have evolved since 1891 when the first chain letter was sent!)
Here’s the concept: Someone invites you to join in, you invite someone else to
join in (and pay it forward), you invite someone (<a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pay_it_forward" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Pay it forward">paying it forward</a>), and so
on. And it all kicks off with a simple blog post.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In keeping with the World Blog Tour, I need to answer some
questions. Soooo, let’s get this show on the road…</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p><br /></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What am I currently working on?</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’m working on several projects, but the one I’m most
passionate about is one which raises awareness of the importance of personal
history preservation. Association of
Personal Historians NYC chapter Coordinator, <a href="http://memoriesoutofthebox.com/" target="_blank">Martie McNabb of Memories out of the Box</a>, has designed and
regularly hosts community events called “Show & Tell.” Endorsed by the
<a href="http://personalhistorians.org/" target="_blank">Association of Personal Historians</a>, these events are now taking place around the
globe. (<a href="http://www.alifetimelegacy.com/show-and-tell/" target="_blank">The events I host</a> take place once a month in <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=40.845,-73.2833333333&spn=0.1,0.1&q=40.845,-73.2833333333%20(Commack%2C%20New%20York)&t=h" rel="geolocation" target="_blank" title="Commack, New York">Commack</a> on Long Island.)
The title speaks for itself… “Show & Tell”…yep, just like in second grade,
except this time it’s for grown-ups. Everyone is welcomed to bring an item of
personal significance, and “show” and “tell” about it. I’m especially passionate about this project
because it brings people together, learning about each other through our
stories. Stories of a ticket stub from a concert a “teller” attended just last
weekend, or stories of a $2 bill another “teller’s” grandfather gave him when
the “teller” was a tyke, making him promise never to spend it, assuring he’d
always have $2 in his pocket.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As an aside, in keeping with my passion to connect generations and preserve memories, I started a new online chat, </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/letsallchat/" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank">#ALLchat - A Lifetime Legacy Chat.</a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> It's a nostalgic story-prompt driven <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Facebook_features" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Facebook features">Facebook chat</a>. So join in on the conversation and Let's #Allchat! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How Does My Work Differ</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> From Others Of This Genre?</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I spent 32 years as a court reporting agency owner, taking
the spoken word and transposing it into written transcript form, without
compromising the essence of individual conveying the story. Attorneys are
rehearsed and specific with their questioning of a witness. Witnesses are sometimes nervous and typically
completely unrehearsed. It’s an interesting dynamic. BUT, a dynamic which has
translated seamlessly to the field of personal history preservation. I often equate my role as personal historian
to that of an attorney during a deposition -- rehearsed with a list of
questions, those questions to be answered by an unrehearsed witness, who is
always passionate, often emotional, recounting an event from their life. The
family stories I help preserve come from individuals who are unrehearsed,
always passionate, often emotional, having witnessed history firsthand. It’s a
remarkably-similar process. My former life as a court reporting agency owner
gives me a unique vantage point in my role as personal historian.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Why Do I Write What I Write?</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I hope to help individuals (and their descendants)
understand why they do what they do and say what they say, by learning of the
triumphs and challenges their ancestors faced, using that knowledge to move
productively forward through life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How Does My Writing Process Work?</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For my blog writing, I sit down and…write. That’s it,
really. I don’t give it much thought.
What’s on my brain comes out on my fingers, and words somehow appear on
my screen. It’s my hope that those who read my blog come away feeling good,
better understanding their place in this world, and knowing their descendants
are relying on them to be the best person possible. We should all be proud of
where we came from. I’m doing my best for my descendants, so that they can be
proud…of me…of themselves. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A quick “shout-out” to some old friends and new discoveries.</span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://savinghistory.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Saving History</a> - As I mentioned earlier, stop by and check
out my pal’s blog: Linda Shay of Saving History. Linda is a research historian and adjunct
history professor specializing in 20th Century studies, She’s currently
directing an oral history project with a local veteran’s club and city museum.
A gal with whose mission is that of my own, recording the stories of our
everyday lives. After all, what we learn
is history books is only part of the story.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://purelysimplewords.com/about/" target="_blank">Purely Simple Words</a> - Another colleague, Georgia Piazza,
writes a wonderful blog, Purely Simple Words… What you will find on her blog
are interviews of fascinating people who have secrets to share. You will learn
secrets to success and living your dream.
It’s a great study of different paths people have taken on their way to
living a successful, fulfilled life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://foodstoriesblog.com/" target="_blank">Food Stories Blog</a> - Another favorite. It’s our stories of…food. (I’m an Italian girl. I have all my
grandmothers’ recipes lovingly preserved in cookbooks, together with dinner table
stories. And lucky me, my maternal grandfather was a chef. So I have his
handwrittten cookbook from 1947.) Check out this blog for scrumptious recipes.
Be sure and preserve your own recipes and the stories that go along with them,
or use some of the recipes found on this delectable blog and start your own
traditions, with stories to be told for generations.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.geneabloggers.com/about/" target="_blank">GeneaBloggers</a> - I would be remiss if I didn’t mention this
outstanding (and personal all-time favorite) blog site. It’s the ultimate site for your
genealogy blog – an online community created by Thomas MacEntee. A compilation
of outstanding blogs written by those passionate about genealogy and personal
history preservation. There is something for everyone here. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So in closing, please check out the blogs I mentioned. Hopefully
they’ll inspire you to start building your own personal history archive.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Remember: Don’t let your family history be a mystery. (Your
descendants will want to know.)</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17224956305011956775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922356879302566976.post-56102271999640152822014-01-19T18:29:00.003-05:002014-01-19T18:31:53.836-05:00Will Your Family’s Story Become History or a Mystery?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCrDE6IQINHTL-2I_ImAmF_0cjP-5I6fyN7_oDYSJ7jJ3UuVC6bRmRCr95oJZ6FbGk9oGkkeuaiXndLlJEL33rS1uWlkQ65uoKyRqcPcaHPt-d6ILMkUCYPKgi7uxYBoRDfj_5ql1YTcg/s1600/Antoinette+Lucielle+LaPreta+Tamer+frame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCrDE6IQINHTL-2I_ImAmF_0cjP-5I6fyN7_oDYSJ7jJ3UuVC6bRmRCr95oJZ6FbGk9oGkkeuaiXndLlJEL33rS1uWlkQ65uoKyRqcPcaHPt-d6ILMkUCYPKgi7uxYBoRDfj_5ql1YTcg/s1600/Antoinette+Lucielle+LaPreta+Tamer+frame.jpg" height="320" width="242" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCrDE6IQINHTL-2I_ImAmF_0cjP-5I6fyN7_oDYSJ7jJ3UuVC6bRmRCr95oJZ6FbGk9oGkkeuaiXndLlJEL33rS1uWlkQ65uoKyRqcPcaHPt-d6ILMkUCYPKgi7uxYBoRDfj_5ql1YTcg/s1600/Antoinette+Lucielle+LaPreta+Tamer+frame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>In the year 2114, only three generations from now, </i></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCrDE6IQINHTL-2I_ImAmF_0cjP-5I6fyN7_oDYSJ7jJ3UuVC6bRmRCr95oJZ6FbGk9oGkkeuaiXndLlJEL33rS1uWlkQ65uoKyRqcPcaHPt-d6ILMkUCYPKgi7uxYBoRDfj_5ql1YTcg/s1600/Antoinette+Lucielle+LaPreta+Tamer+frame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>when your descendants research their family story, will they learn about history or will the past be just another mystery?</i></span></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCrDE6IQINHTL-2I_ImAmF_0cjP-5I6fyN7_oDYSJ7jJ3UuVC6bRmRCr95oJZ6FbGk9oGkkeuaiXndLlJEL33rS1uWlkQ65uoKyRqcPcaHPt-d6ILMkUCYPKgi7uxYBoRDfj_5ql1YTcg/s1600/Antoinette+Lucielle+LaPreta+Tamer+frame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCrDE6IQINHTL-2I_ImAmF_0cjP-5I6fyN7_oDYSJ7jJ3UuVC6bRmRCr95oJZ6FbGk9oGkkeuaiXndLlJEL33rS1uWlkQ65uoKyRqcPcaHPt-d6ILMkUCYPKgi7uxYBoRDfj_5ql1YTcg/s1600/Antoinette+Lucielle+LaPreta+Tamer+frame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCrDE6IQINHTL-2I_ImAmF_0cjP-5I6fyN7_oDYSJ7jJ3UuVC6bRmRCr95oJZ6FbGk9oGkkeuaiXndLlJEL33rS1uWlkQ65uoKyRqcPcaHPt-d6ILMkUCYPKgi7uxYBoRDfj_5ql1YTcg/s1600/Antoinette+Lucielle+LaPreta+Tamer+frame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCrDE6IQINHTL-2I_ImAmF_0cjP-5I6fyN7_oDYSJ7jJ3UuVC6bRmRCr95oJZ6FbGk9oGkkeuaiXndLlJEL33rS1uWlkQ65uoKyRqcPcaHPt-d6ILMkUCYPKgi7uxYBoRDfj_5ql1YTcg/s1600/Antoinette+Lucielle+LaPreta+Tamer+frame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCrDE6IQINHTL-2I_ImAmF_0cjP-5I6fyN7_oDYSJ7jJ3UuVC6bRmRCr95oJZ6FbGk9oGkkeuaiXndLlJEL33rS1uWlkQ65uoKyRqcPcaHPt-d6ILMkUCYPKgi7uxYBoRDfj_5ql1YTcg/s1600/Antoinette+Lucielle+LaPreta+Tamer+frame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCrDE6IQINHTL-2I_ImAmF_0cjP-5I6fyN7_oDYSJ7jJ3UuVC6bRmRCr95oJZ6FbGk9oGkkeuaiXndLlJEL33rS1uWlkQ65uoKyRqcPcaHPt-d6ILMkUCYPKgi7uxYBoRDfj_5ql1YTcg/s1600/Antoinette+Lucielle+LaPreta+Tamer+frame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></a></h2>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCrDE6IQINHTL-2I_ImAmF_0cjP-5I6fyN7_oDYSJ7jJ3UuVC6bRmRCr95oJZ6FbGk9oGkkeuaiXndLlJEL33rS1uWlkQ65uoKyRqcPcaHPt-d6ILMkUCYPKgi7uxYBoRDfj_5ql1YTcg/s1600/Antoinette+Lucielle+LaPreta+Tamer+frame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /></a>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When answering my phone early one morning, I was greeted with the sweet voice of a young woman who sounded as though she was weeping. She asked if I might be able to help her. Her husband’s 95-year-old grandmother had just passed away. She was so sad. But she was also overcome with fear. Her own dear 97-year-old grandmother was…old. This young woman was so worried that her children would never get to know this remarkable person she called “Grandma.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I asked her how old her children were. “Oh, I don’t have any children yet. I must preserve all the stories my grandma has told me so when I do have children, they can know her like I do. Can you help me with that?”</span></div>
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I described some of the many ways personal historians assist in recording family history: printed memoirs, narrated slide shows, video biographies. I will never forget her next sentence, not for what she said but for how she said it:</div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>“I must have her on video. </i></div>
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<i>I must see her sweet face telling her stories.”</i></div>
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She proceeded to tell me a bit about her grandmother, stories that weren’t the makings of a great history book … but oh, the content was riveting: the everyday life of an everyday person who has seen the world change over the course of a very busy century.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As I listened to this young woman, I thought about what life must have been like the day her grandmother was born, and how different life is today, a world hardly a whisper of its former self, except for the people who live in it, people living their everyday lives, working hard to raise families, wondering what the future holds, one day rolling into the next, each day before now part of history.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As this young woman reminisced, I was reminded of my own grandmother, who passed away at age 97 on October 9, 2001. Through my grandmother’s stories, I learned not only about history, but of my own FAMILY history.</div>
</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Grandma spoke of her life when she was a little girl and a young woman (she’s 23 in this photo -- above -- from the 1920s). She told about her aunt marching for women’s rights to vote, reciting her aunt’s speeches, describing the exact outfits her aunt wore. She talked about her dad competing in boxing matches that were very popular in the early 1900s. She would smile telling about the coin purse her grandmother kept hidden under the layers of her floor-length dress.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjhZ1Rl8KWhYv-_qINyGTeJjKYt7fkUrYtoNAnZ3hEZ_ioDEN2g_bLTdvAi9evNVGxU0I38RlvfrE_9elePVJQqXy3A2OxbLyqsc6TUTwZMTjU9xsamiv0AzW0DvfmmbDjM02RIedSDCU/s1600/deb+perham+and+grandma.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Through my personal history voyage working with individuals and families preserving their legacy, I have discovered that knowing about the family who has come before us is so much more important than simply the need to satisfy our curiosity. The older I get the more I recognize the remarkable traits of my grandmother that have been passed down to my mother. I wonder how many of those traits were passed down from my great grandmother and great-great grandmother? There’s so much we can learn from our ancestors’ triumphs and mistakes. We can follow in their knowing footsteps, or change direction if we must … but only if we know the path they took.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We can sit and stare at a family tree assembled with the aid of second-hand tales and research sites, wondering who these people were and how their lives affected ours. Or we can start today adding life to the names on that tree by recording their stories, our story, creating “present” history.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Personal historians are experts at drawing out the stories our descendants will want to hear. We’ll teach you how to “do it yourself,” or work with you using special techniques developed by members of the <a href="http://www.personalhistorians.org/">Association of Personal Historians</a>.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I know it always seems too early to start recording your family and personal history…until it’s too late. So, please reach out today. I'm here to help guide you on your way to preserving your history. I look forward to working with you—as partners in time.</div>
</span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17224956305011956775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922356879302566976.post-20271561304812799022013-12-05T21:26:00.000-05:002013-12-06T10:16:17.542-05:00The Inspiration That Was Borne Out Of A Basement Flood and A Discarded Tissue<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-PUKTptBckYzaCsrPGCWv_Zbubxg5ZfYuV5Q4TJ27rb5lR5i5YZuKbI-T1EoKYsvEwbcId5CPSk4D7ZJxIFZxti8msFBqiFFkuIwhx2HxZt-MZ9X47jGzFyNL1jU2YU5OJPzo1cVrsGs/s1600/Antoinette+Lucielle+LaPreta+Tamer+frame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-PUKTptBckYzaCsrPGCWv_Zbubxg5ZfYuV5Q4TJ27rb5lR5i5YZuKbI-T1EoKYsvEwbcId5CPSk4D7ZJxIFZxti8msFBqiFFkuIwhx2HxZt-MZ9X47jGzFyNL1jU2YU5OJPzo1cVrsGs/s320/Antoinette+Lucielle+LaPreta+Tamer+frame.jpg" width="242" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white;">Antoinette LaPreta, my grandma</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Before my parents even met, my
career path as a <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Family_%28biology%29" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Family (biology)">family</a>/personal historian was already determined. A fateful day in the early 1950s when my dear
maternal grandmother lost her belongings and most of her family photographs in a basement
flood changed the direction of my life…and I was born a whole decade after that
event! <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Origin_of_language" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Origin of language">Hmmmmm</a>, how could that be? Well, allow me to explain.</div>
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Around the time of the flood, <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.break.com/topics/crazy-grandparents" rel="break" target="_blank" title="Crazy Grandparents">Grandma</a> also
lost track of her family: at that point her only sibling (a brother) and her cousins. (Parents and
grandparents, aunts and uncles, were long gone…her <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mother" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Mother">mom</a> passed away when my
grandmother was only 8 years old.) It was a whole course of events that caused
them to be separated, which is a story for another day. Grandma always mourned
those losses her whole life and wished she could locate her family, but resources
for locating people were limited in those days. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />
Fast forward 30 years.
One day in the early 1980s Grandma was walking along a street in <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=40.75,-73.8666666667&spn=0.1,0.1&q=40.75,-73.8666666667%20(Queens)&t=h" rel="geolocation" target="_blank" title="Queens">Queens, NY</a>
(nearby where she lived), and she spotted a gentleman she was sure was her
brother. (She had not seen him in over 35 years.) She ran to him. They
embraced, talked for a few moments, and she wrote his <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Telephone_number" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Telephone number">phone number</a> on a
<a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tissue_%28biology%29" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Tissue (biology)">tissue</a> she had in her coat pocket. They promised they would always be in touch. Upon returning home, she emptied her pockets and discarded the tissue,
thinking it was simply a used tissue. And that was the end of Grandma ever seeing her
brother again. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
My dear, sweet grandma passed away when she was 94 years old.
She was an amazing woman who surrounded herself with the love of her three
daughters and their husbands, six grandchildren, and nine great grandchildren. (My grandfather had passed away when my mom
was very young.) Grandma lived a very happy life despite her earlier losses,
but this story of her life always bothered me. I used to visit her old
neighborhood and stand in front of where her house used to be – now a park on
Thompson Street in <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=40.6641666667,-73.9386111111&spn=0.1,0.1&q=40.6641666667,-73.9386111111%20(New%20York%20City)&t=h" rel="geolocation" target="_blank" title="New York City">NYC</a>. I’d ask the oldest people I saw walking along the street in the neighborhood if they knew of the
LaPreta/Barbera family….from only about a hundred years earlier! <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Many years later, as I grew older, and resources for locating
people were available, I made it my mission to find my grandmother’s family. Through some research on <a href="http://ancestry.com/">ancestry.com</a> I discovered my grandmother's brother had passed away only four years after their fateful encounter in Queens. Grandma lived twenty more years after that encounter, thinking her brother was still out there somewhere. I didn't stop my search there. Surely I would be able to locate other family members who were still living. I was determined. Mom and I printed from the internet the phone number of every person in the
<a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=38.8833333333,-77.0166666667&spn=10.0,10.0&q=38.8833333333,-77.0166666667%20(United%20States)&t=h" rel="geolocation" target="_blank" title="United States">United States</a> with my grandmother’s last name. We split the list up. I called
and called and called. Nope, nope, nope. Well, lo and behold, my mom makes her
third phone call, and to her surprise finds the son of my grandmother’s brother. We then found her whole family spread all over the United States.
My mom built relationships with all of them.
They were quite old by that point, and they’re mostly all together in
<a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heaven" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Heaven">Heaven</a> now…which is good since my grandmother waited a long time to finally see
them. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
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</div>
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The two events, the basement flood and the discarded tissue, seemingly ordinary events, inspired me to become a family/personal historian,
helping other families connect generations and preserve their memories. I proudly serve as secretary on the board of the <a href="http://personalhistorians.org/" target="_blank">Association of Personal Historians</a>.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijdD2MDc6Iindn2JoNDsu-FfZ_YGIE8Gek5EtGEVo7f4mTsMcgB7-1xUFg8aC85QZHmFHsW9K57gdHBtRZZtI67xEcUKllfZZ6SJLJLiYZuMmKXfbAMwunvLKdrS47RzVp99OGjbwuluk/s1600/grandma+and+me+1+frame+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijdD2MDc6Iindn2JoNDsu-FfZ_YGIE8Gek5EtGEVo7f4mTsMcgB7-1xUFg8aC85QZHmFHsW9K57gdHBtRZZtI67xEcUKllfZZ6SJLJLiYZuMmKXfbAMwunvLKdrS47RzVp99OGjbwuluk/s320/grandma+and+me+1+frame+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white;">(I miss you, Grandma. xoxo)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="text-align: justify;">Thank you, everyone, for reading my story. It’s important that we share our family
stories. Like my bog description says,
it helps us understand why we are who we are, why we do what we do, and say what
we say. We are a compilation of the
thousands of family members who came before us. </span><br />
<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span>
<span style="text-align: justify;">It's your legacy. It's our legacy. P</span><span style="text-align: justify;">ass it on. </span><br />
<div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;">
<a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/?px" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_h.png?x-id=67a2a69e-886b-4ad1-9dfc-981d1bc902b8" style="border: none; float: right;" /></a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17224956305011956775noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922356879302566976.post-80407678774945464732013-11-20T23:08:00.001-05:002013-11-27T20:20:32.765-05:00The White Lie That Was Meant to Be<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh99kM_fJMgLuX7-s1LJl_S_Q3mGGtYR5S-RHZGLdGmAZwQtF6FVrc5j-zNSacWRDvAgHllUh0ZOnpT40SUHWz_f2rUESa-djWLWeC2RiNCr_ohElM4yzGEV4IEEJJKbGh_G_BPgoer1HM/s1600/gaetana+family+frame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh99kM_fJMgLuX7-s1LJl_S_Q3mGGtYR5S-RHZGLdGmAZwQtF6FVrc5j-zNSacWRDvAgHllUh0ZOnpT40SUHWz_f2rUESa-djWLWeC2RiNCr_ohElM4yzGEV4IEEJJKbGh_G_BPgoer1HM/s320/gaetana+family+frame.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Tell him I’m <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Engagement" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Engagement">engaged</a>
to be <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marriage" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Marriage">married</a>.”</span></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My maternal
grandmother, Antoinette LaPreta, LOVED to talk about her childhood. In <a href="http://alifetimelegacy.blogspot.com/2013/10/have-you-ever-wondered-what-your-great.html" target="_blank">a previous blog post</a> I mentioned how she
had lost all her precious photographs in a basement flood, so she compensated
for that loss by telling stories about growing up. My paternal grandmother, Gaetana Parrini
(Gussie), wasn’t quite as chatty. But
when asked a specific question, “How did you meet, Grandpa?” “What was your mom
like?” then the stories would come flooding out. </span></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“So <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.break.com/topics/crazy-grandparents" rel="break" target="_blank" title="Crazy Grandparents">Grandma</a>,
how DID you meet </span></span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Grandpa?” “I went to
school with him.” Hmmm, seems like a
typical scenario. But boy, oh boy, it
was NOT <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Love_at_first_sight" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Love at first sight">love at first sight</a>. For Grandma
anyway. Grandma told me Grandpa always
said it was love at first sight for him, but for her, well, let’s just say she
was less than interested. My paternal
grandfather, Pasquale Tomasetti (Pat) would regularly ask Gussie to go out on a
date with him. He was relentless. Go to </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;">the cinema together? Maybe they could study together? Nope, nope, nope. My grandma smiled remembering how relieved she
was to learn that Pat would be leaving </span><a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=43.0,-75.0&spn=3.0,3.0&q=43.0,-75.0%20(New%20York)&t=h" rel="geolocation" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;" target="_blank" title="New York">New York</a><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;"> for </span><a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=36.0,-86.0&spn=3.0,3.0&q=36.0,-86.0%20(Tennessee)&t=h" rel="geolocation" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;" target="_blank" title="Tennessee">Tennessee</a><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;"> to study to
become a civil engineer. Whew! He’d be out of her hair for a few years. Maybe if she was lucky, he would meet someone
at college, get married, and live in Tennessee permanently. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk5eVCRUe0fwKJyxxcB8ItYhYfzjEF_UN3m3THMx9dSlnahIKQrsW3o7YTqfGbFqslmkCRDal-aqqnkGwWH7V5zONZns_ZYe0Nqq5dOtC7lQ1JilIjNY8xwTX8oPcIRkb9yO_vGNXEuAc/s1600/grandpa+2+frame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk5eVCRUe0fwKJyxxcB8ItYhYfzjEF_UN3m3THMx9dSlnahIKQrsW3o7YTqfGbFqslmkCRDal-aqqnkGwWH7V5zONZns_ZYe0Nqq5dOtC7lQ1JilIjNY8xwTX8oPcIRkb9yO_vGNXEuAc/s200/grandpa+2+frame.jpg" width="152" /></a><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Then one
day…Gussie heard Pat was coming back to town.
Gussie had to think quick. She
told her three sisters, “If Pat asks about me, tell him I’m engaged to be
married.” Well, sister Minnie was the
first to see Pat. “Minnie, how’s
Gussie?” “Gee, Pat, she’s engaged to be
married.” “What?!” Pat later sees sister Josie. “Josie, is Gussie really engaged?” “Pat, I can’t lie to you. She’s not engaged.” Pat heads straight to Gussie’s house. “Gussie, how could you make up that awful
lie? Now, to make up for it, you can’t
say no to a date with me.” Gussie felt terrible
about the lie she concocted. She agreed
to go on a date with Pat later that day.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Small kink:
Gussie already had a date that afternoon.
She couldn’t cancel it…that would be wrong. She planned to meet Pat under the “el”
(<a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rapid_transit" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Rapid transit">elevated train</a>) near their homes in <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=40.6247222222,-73.9522222222&spn=0.1,0.1&q=40.6247222222,-73.9522222222%20(Brooklyn)&t=h" rel="geolocation" target="_blank" title="Brooklyn">Brooklyn</a> that evening. Her first date ended with the gentleman riding
the train with Gussie to her stop. “It’s
not necessary to walk me down the stairs.
Thank you, it was a lovely date.”
As she walked down the stairs from the el, she saw Pat. He was dressed so handsomely: a long
overcoat, a hat, beautifully-tailored pants.
(Grandma was a seamstress, she noticed these things.) When she walked to Pat…he grabbed her and
kissed her. (A pretty bold move in the
1930s!) “I’ve waited a long time for
that kiss.” Pat and Gussie were together
from that day forward. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I’ll be
sharing many more stories about Grandma.
I’ll also share what I know about Grandpa, but I was not fortunate to
meet him. He passed away in a car
accident in 1950 when my dad was only 13.
Through my grandma’s stories, I feel I knew him. (I wish I really did, though.) <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(My grandmothers were my professional inspiration for
becoming a personal/family historian.
They – likely unintentionally – taught me the importance of preserving our
family history.) <br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the top picture: (Standing) Grandma (Gaetana Parrini Tomasetti) & Grandpa (Pasquale Tomasetti). (He's also pictured in the graduation cap and gown.) Sitting in front of my grandpa is my maternal great grandmother Angelina (Trentalange) Parrini. Next to Angelina are Angelina's parents: Giovanni and Gaetana Trentalange.</div>
<div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;">
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17224956305011956775noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922356879302566976.post-9831980283417677612013-11-17T00:12:00.003-05:002013-11-24T15:27:12.969-05:00Cooking With Grandma Far-Away<div style="text-align: right;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfyYBFzX5yUyttGjyUH7Dfw8zrmI9Xysn-IBDQ0aYUDgr4t_Q6WcJjRnKyWfnqP1agz7pi4yvf-JS8g103P-WMb_Fj3Vr3IXXLj1T8zamUTT-jAW8uMQUI6CowRxE0z3lPCY4Ya0GnFRI/s1600/artichokes+frame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfyYBFzX5yUyttGjyUH7Dfw8zrmI9Xysn-IBDQ0aYUDgr4t_Q6WcJjRnKyWfnqP1agz7pi4yvf-JS8g103P-WMb_Fj3Vr3IXXLj1T8zamUTT-jAW8uMQUI6CowRxE0z3lPCY4Ya0GnFRI/s320/artichokes+frame.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">For those of you who have read
some of my previous posts, you know I’m an “I”talian girl married to an Irishman. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">While attending the Association of Personal
Historians conference just last week, participants were called upon to share “food
stories.” Well, I was first up. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I recalled my husband and my first holiday
together at my in-law’s home. My
</span><a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parent-in-law" rel="wikipedia" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;" target="_blank" title="Parent-in-law">mother-in-law</a><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> asked everyone to bring a dish.
Well, big shot that I am, I showed up with a special recipe from the
best cook I knew…Gaetana Parrini Tomasetti (my </span><a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.break.com/topics/crazy-grandparents" rel="break" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;" target="_blank" title="Crazy Grandparents">paternal grandmother</a><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">). I carefully and proudly prepared Grandma’s stuffed
artichokes. I presented my dish at my
in-law’s house, and it was received with…blank stares. The silence seemed eternal. Finally, my youngest brother-in-law (one of
seven), with shock in his voice, inquired:
“What’s that?” </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“What’s
that??! It’s stuffed artichokes!” </i><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “What’s an artichoke?” </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">What’s
an artichoke?? WHAT’S AN <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Artichoke" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Artichoke">ARTICHOKE</a>??! </i><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It’s
a staple in every Italian household. I
looked over at my perfectly stuffed artichokes.
Sitting on the table next to them was </span><a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.food.com/recipe/to-die-for-crock-pot-roast-27208?oc=zem" rel="foodcom" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;" target="_blank" title="pot roast recipe">pot roast</a><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> where lamb should be, mashed
potatoes where lasagna would normally be, pearl onions where I would typically
see stuffed mushrooms. Something called
mashed turnips. What’s an artichoke? WHAT’S A </span><a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Turnip" rel="wikipedia" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;" target="_blank" title="Turnip">TURNIP</a><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">?! Well, no one ate my stuffed artichokes that
day (except me). But in all honesty, I
didn’t eat ANY turnips. Although I will
confess, just last Thanksgiving (2012) I *tasted* them. Keep in mind our first holiday together was
32 years ago, so it took me some time to get used to the idea of a turnip. (I still haven’t tried the creamed pearl
onions.) That’s okay. My in-laws still haven’t ever tasted a stuffed artichoke. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Once I came to terms with the
fact that all families have their own style of cooking, I recognized my
mother-in-law was an exceptional cook.
Sadly my dear mother-in-law passed away in 2004. We took all her recipes (in her handwriting)
and compiled a cookbook, making copies for each family member: “Cooking with Grandma Far-Away” (“Grandma
Far-Away” lived about 50 miles from us. My
mom – just plain “Grandma” – lives about 3 miles from us.) </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_prMlQ967IlDdogz8ipj179F4WQPQ0Kl8xOkVIvlgxRiZY48spgDvsCyb7AD-2dbK9ZZprOvFKyZ3VGudodhduPE9Lc7ET9TDHW1vRoyv7wI5hqhu9jTWusV0rCN2GTZoMcj-zRSRTLk/s1600/MOM%2527S+BEST+MACARONI+DISH.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="clear: left; float: left; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ7_tHN-gRLsmAreqPRSgsWiAyp_o954kLlNVm1C21ejuHzK3yo1dD41HnmKjA1lQWRPeSVaZcUeslIhANUV_UlV6fBqtpvYtlIzEBTfahefc_ObCql2UJXLCou4Hkv7850R-LzBj28SI/s1600/moms+best+mac+dish+frame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ7_tHN-gRLsmAreqPRSgsWiAyp_o954kLlNVm1C21ejuHzK3yo1dD41HnmKjA1lQWRPeSVaZcUeslIhANUV_UlV6fBqtpvYtlIzEBTfahefc_ObCql2UJXLCou4Hkv7850R-LzBj28SI/s320/moms+best+mac+dish+frame.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Tonight we prepared one of my mother-in-law’s
favorite recipes “Mom’s Best Macaroni Dish.” Here’s a picture and the recipe. Notice the ladle. THAT ladle
belonged to my *maternal* grandmother.
When she passed away, I promised myself I would use that ladle whenever
we served a pasta dish. Did I just say “<a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pasta" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Pasta">PASTA</a>”? I mean “<a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.food.com/recipe/fannie-farmers-classic-baked-macaroni-and-cheese-135350?oc=zem" rel="foodcom" target="_blank" title="mac and cheese recipe">MACARONI</a>”! I’ll post some stories about both my
grandmothers and their recipes very soon.
After all, Thanksgiving is right around the corner, and it’s all about the
food…chow. Till next time…ciao!</span></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">"MOM'S BEST MACARONI DISH"</span></b></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">1 box of elbow
macaroni - cooked<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">1.5 lbs ground beef<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">2 large onions<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">1 stalk of celery<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">2 cans of whole
tomatoes<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">5 green peppers,
sliced<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">2 tbs Parmesan cheese<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">½ tsp oregano<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Salt and pepper to
taste<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Breadcrumbs<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Brown ground beef.
Drain off grease. Remove to bowl. In pot where ground beef was
browned, sauté onions and celery till tender. Return ground beef to
pot. Mix in rest of ingredients, except peppers and macaroni. Cook
30 minutes. Add peppers. Cook another 30 minutes. Mix in
macaroni. Put mixture into an oven-proof casserole dish. Sprinkle
some breadcrumbs and extra Parmesan cheese on top. Bake 350 degrees F until
bubbly. Enjoy!<span style="color: #555555;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<em>Americans, more than any other culture on earth, are cookbook cooks; we learn to make our meals not from oral tradition, but from a text. The just-wed cook brings to the new household no carefully-copied collection of the family's cherished recipes, but a spanking new edition of the Fannie Farmer, or The Joy of Cooking" --John Thorne, American food writer</em></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17224956305011956775noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922356879302566976.post-3026752639215347732013-11-03T23:49:00.001-05:002013-11-10T21:26:10.153-05:00"What Kind of An Italian Name is 'Kevin'?"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik_K2faKGdIlWGVaot646c3PcOCmLp3RLSV4pKrpku2jTEq1zigI2CU1iDlc7Wx4rywaZa3qI5MYZTFK9EM7rApuj1URGvn2wB_7QcBfn6Ip-D55UFG98lRXHIzCwtz1u8HOvDYr6P4qA/s1600/italian+american+irish+flags+frame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik_K2faKGdIlWGVaot646c3PcOCmLp3RLSV4pKrpku2jTEq1zigI2CU1iDlc7Wx4rywaZa3qI5MYZTFK9EM7rApuj1URGvn2wB_7QcBfn6Ip-D55UFG98lRXHIzCwtz1u8HOvDYr6P4qA/s400/italian+american+irish+flags+frame.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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"<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>He's <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Irish_American" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Irish American">Irish</a>, Mom."</i></span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I was the first in my family to <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marriage" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Marriage">marry</a> someone who was not of
Italian descent. (This was back in 1981…
32 years still married, so it looks like it might work out!) I always thought of my family as being contemporary,
respecting the values, traditions, and beliefs of others; but for whatever
reason, everyone in my family (before me) had married someone "Italian." We respect our Italian
heritage, but we are <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=38.8833333333,-77.0166666667&spn=10.0,10.0&q=38.8833333333,-77.0166666667%20(United%20States)&t=h" rel="geolocation" target="_blank" title="United States">American</a>. When I
was a teenager, I asked my paternal grandmother, “Grandma, you’re Italian,
right?” She answered, “No. My mother was
Italian.” “Grandma, how could your
mother be Italian, but you’re not?” “I’m
American. My mother was born in <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=41.9,12.4833333333&spn=10.0,10.0&q=41.9,12.4833333333%20(Italy)&t=h" rel="geolocation" target="_blank" title="Italy">Italy</a>. She was Italian. I was born in America.” I found such beauty in that statement. I’ll always remember that exact moment. Sitting in my grandma’s kitchen. Lots of deep conversation always took place around
her kitchen table.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A bunch of years later I brought my new boyfriend home to
meet Gaetana Parrini Tomasetti (my grandma). My dad (Pasquale III) and boyfriend, Kevin, sat in the den. I went in to the kitchen to get them some
snacks. My grandmother, quite
innocently, said, “What kind of an Italian name is Kevin?” The question came from such a sincere
place. It never occurred to her that a
boyfriend of mine would be anything but Italian. My mom answers, “Oh, Mom, he’s
not Italian. He’s Irish.” All 4 feet 8 inches of my grandma (5-feet-even
with her hair all coiffed) questions, “He’s what?” “He’s Irish, Mom.” “Oh, okay.” We were married shortly after that. Following my wedding, my cousins all married “non-Italians”: more Irishmen, Englishmen, <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Middle_East" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Middle East">Middle-Eastern</a>, Asian...; all religions: <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.worldjewishcongress.org/" rel="homepage" target="_blank" title="Jews">Jewish</a>, Methodist, Protestant... Grandma loved them all.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My Irish Catholic <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parent-in-law" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Parent-in-law">mother-in-law</a> (mother of seven sons and one daughter) was
equally-surprised when she learned I was not Irish. I had a challenge on my hands. You see, one of Kevin’s brothers had been stolen
away by an Italian girl he met while serving in the Navy. (That son LIVED in Italy.) Enter me. Things were not looking promising for this “I”talian girl. Funny thing is, I opened the flood gates…seven
sons, five Italian daughters-in-law…and THEN a Jewish daughter-in-law. We laughed when the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Youngest_son" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Youngest son">youngest son</a> brought home
a Jewish girlfriend. What would my
mother-in-law say? Well, she was welcomed
with open arms, as were all the other daughters-in-law. My husband and I will celebrate our 33<span style="font-size: x-small;">rd </span>wedding anniversary this coming February 14<span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span>...Valentine’s Day…such
romantics! My youngest brother-in-law
and his Jewish bride celebrated their 17<span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span> wedding anniversary today. We are one big, happy, league-of-nations
family. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I hope you enjoyed reading this post as much as I enjoyed reminiscing. And now, for your listening pleasure, one of my favorite songs: "Get Together" by the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.last.fm/music/The%2BYoungbloods" rel="lastfm" target="_blank" title="The Youngbloods">Youngbloods</a>. Ahhh, I bet you thought I was going to say my favorite song is "Pepino, the Italian Mouse." ;)<o:p></o:p></span></o:p></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17224956305011956775noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922356879302566976.post-47588828353794902462013-11-02T18:51:00.002-04:002014-01-17T23:26:10.871-05:00Honey, dinner is ready!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB8WCBndVNKHuPu3pKZireHxCmWkLGkswfS5Z_NjKnLW9zXatvFEpytWHQieVxyxRa4vBkQn_U1dGveefVhXeN4gPKgrtWVxoViSQLzmurgRYFAFW8k-_v9rAtkRFNJFST8ioFDS37E98/s1600/retro+housewife+frame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB8WCBndVNKHuPu3pKZireHxCmWkLGkswfS5Z_NjKnLW9zXatvFEpytWHQieVxyxRa4vBkQn_U1dGveefVhXeN4gPKgrtWVxoViSQLzmurgRYFAFW8k-_v9rAtkRFNJFST8ioFDS37E98/s400/retro+housewife+frame.jpg" height="382" width="400" /></a></div>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<i>Fifteen Minutes of Fame...during dinnertime.</i></h2>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Some of my earliest memories throughout the '60s and '70s <span style="line-height: 107%;">are
of sitting </span>around the dinner table with my mom, dad, and sister. Dinner
was at 5 o’clock prompt. Mom cooked every night. It was just something we did.
Didn’t everyone? When I began working in <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=40.6641666667,-73.9386111111&spn=0.1,0.1&q=40.6641666667,-73.9386111111%20(New%20York%20City)&t=h" rel="geolocation" target="_blank" title="New York City">New York City</a> and not getting off the
train until 7:15 <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/12-hour_clock" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="12-hour clock">p.m.</a>, I have a distinct memory of walking in the door at home
and hearing the ding from the microwave…dinner heated for me. Did my mom
actually time my steps from the car to the door? The funny thing is, it was
important to me to carry on that ritual when I got married.<br /><span style="line-height: 107%;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: justify;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I was so proud of the first meal I cooked for my new
husband. Day 1 of our marriage. Hubby was a cop, working 4 p.m. to midnight. So
there I waited, the good wife, at 1:00 in the morning (albeit having to take a
7:15 a.m. train to work that morning), our first dinner together ready…pork
chops, a vegetable, and potatoes. So proud of the first meal I made. Well,
needless to say we were sick the whole night and couldn’t sleep from having eaten
such a heavy meal at that hour. We laugh about it to this day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It’s still important to me to sit down to dinner with my
family…now my hubby and our three kids. So with very busy schedules, what do we
do…we look at our calendars and firm up times in advance that we’ll sit
together for dinner, all of us. Somehow the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.nytimes.com/" rel="homepage" target="_blank" title="The New York Times">New York Times</a> <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.wikinvest.com/industry/Newspapers" rel="wikinvest" target="_blank" title="Newspapers">daily newspaper</a>
heard this news, and called me asking to include us in a story about <a class="zem_slink" href="http://pbskids.org/mayaandmiguel/" rel="homepage" target="_blank" title="Maya & Miguel">family
time</a>. The journalist wanted to join us on our next dinner “appointment.” Sure.
We had plans a few days later to all meet at a restaurant in <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=40.9461111111,-73.0622222222&spn=0.1,0.1&q=40.9461111111,-73.0622222222%20(Port%20Jefferson%2C%20New%20York)&t=h" rel="geolocation" target="_blank" title="Port Jefferson, New York">Port Jefferson</a>. We
got to the restaurant. There was the journalist, camera in hand. Along with all
the other diners. “Act natural.” We could barely keep our composure as we ate;
we felt like reality show stars with the photographer taking pictures of us, in
a crowded eatery. So that was our <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/15_minutes_of_fame" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="15 minutes of fame">fifteen minutes of fame</a> (three minutes
each?).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We still make family time with all three kids being away at
college. We recently celebrated the girls' birthdays, 18 and 21, born on the
same day three years apart (true story). We ate birthday cake together, by
<a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.skype.com/" rel="homepage" target="_blank" title="Skype">Skype</a>, previously scheduled! We each had a piece of cake at our respective
locations. And sang happy birthday...together.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Here's a link to the New York Times Article (entitled
"Guilt Trip Casserole")…our fifteen minutes of fame:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/04/fashion/04dinner.html?pagewanted=all">www.nytimes.com/2009/10/04/fashion/04dinner.html?pagewanted=all</a></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/?px" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_h.png?x-id=47866b31-1414-48c3-aa24-bc514dd7483e" style="border: none; float: right;" /></a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17224956305011956775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922356879302566976.post-59137356685125702532013-10-18T17:05:00.001-04:002013-11-10T21:27:36.404-05:00Have You Ever Wondered What Your Great Grandmother Looked Like?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDYxSslIZ8jD9X8_Tu1RpcZ7tnal77qzoAc8t8o2I4OW2_P7S4i7xrep7cVrVsZeuG8jgCgiE9chAraliAy3rE0p56GZ-cdzD28Doqkbyh9YKvzE3QiDX02Gm1QyNO5C2xbJXjzryWlaA/s1600/vintage+girl+frame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDYxSslIZ8jD9X8_Tu1RpcZ7tnal77qzoAc8t8o2I4OW2_P7S4i7xrep7cVrVsZeuG8jgCgiE9chAraliAy3rE0p56GZ-cdzD28Doqkbyh9YKvzE3QiDX02Gm1QyNO5C2xbJXjzryWlaA/s320/vintage+girl+frame.jpg" width="274" /></a></div>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Well, this could be her, but we'll never know, because there are no
markings on this gorgeous photo. She was important enough to someone that they
wanted a picture of her, but now she's "A <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Victorian_era" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Victorian era">Victorian</a> girl." Let's make
sure we preserve our pictures for our descendants. They'll want to know.</span></i></h2>
<div>
<i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">When I was a young child, my <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.break.com/topics/crazy-grandparents" rel="break" target="_blank" title="Crazy Grandparents">maternal grandmother</a> told
countless stories about her life and growing up at 87 Thompson Street in <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=40.6641666667,-73.9386111111&spn=0.1,0.1&q=40.6641666667,-73.9386111111%20(New%20York%20City)&t=h" rel="geolocation" target="_blank" title="New York City">New
York City</a>.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Grandma “Porch” and her
brother were raised by their maternal grandmother, since their own mother
passed away when they were very young children.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Throughout the ‘20s and ‘30s Grandma was a professional singer at the
Rustic Cabin in <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=40.889682,-73.942047&spn=0.1,0.1&q=40.889682,-73.942047%20(Englewood%20Cliffs%2C%20New%20Jersey)&t=h" rel="geolocation" target="_blank" title="Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey">Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey</a> (where <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.last.fm/music/Harry%2BJames" rel="lastfm" target="_blank" title="Harry James">Harry James</a> discovered
<a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Singing" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Singing">singing</a> waiter <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.rottentomatoes.com/celebrity/frank_sinatra" rel="rottentomatoes" target="_blank" title="Frank Sinatra">Frank Sinatra</a>).</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The
singing troupe had many pictures taken during those decades.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">(WNEW Radio broadcast from there.)</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Well, in the 1950s, my dear grandmother lost all
of her treasured pictures in a basement flood.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Except for one single picture of my mother and her two sisters as
children, one picture of my grandmother at 23 years old, and one picture of my
grandfather at about the same age, nothing was left but stories, lots of
stories.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My grandmother mourned the loss
of those pictures her whole life.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I will always treasure her stories. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">(She
passed away shortly after her 94<span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> birthday in 2001. -- My grandfather had passed away many years before, in 1957.) </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To the contrary, when my paternal grandmother passed away
(at 97 years old in 2009), we discovered a trunk in her basement stuffed with
hundreds of pictures. Our family was
thrilled to find this treasure. Decades
of pictures of babies dating from the early 1900s through the 1950s, pictures
of cruises taken with dear friends, pictures of homes, weddings. BUT…who were these people? Where were these places? Not a single picture was marked with an
identifier. My paternal grandfather
passed away very young. This trunk
likely contained pictures of him as an infant or young child…but we would never
know. I wish Grandma “<a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=28.1,-81.6&spn=3.0,3.0&q=28.1,-81.6%20(Florida)&t=h" rel="geolocation" target="_blank" title="Florida">Florida</a>” was still
here to tell us stories about all the people in those photographs (and because
I miss her).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This is why I’m so passionate about helping families
preserve their precious history, their heritage. I will never forget my maternal grandma’s
stories. She held those stories so dear,
and it’s my special tribute to her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">(Grandma “Porch” had a <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Porch" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Porch">porch</a> off her second-floor apartment
in <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=40.6247222222,-73.9522222222&spn=0.1,0.1&q=40.6247222222,-73.9522222222%20(Brooklyn)&t=h" rel="geolocation" target="_blank" title="Brooklyn">Brooklyn</a> – so…she’s Grandma Porch.
Grandma “Florida” had a perpetual tan, as she would have had she lived in
Florida – so…she’s Grandma Florida.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4LXlCIB3IGU3rW115bpuzKcJnvx5Oia6TIH4382hNGhMYK6pV0Ja2uaxFFI5vWMxe2ZDpEiIWk3GssQ_3x7t5z1X81nTNa0capgvVdHk1up218zZZ0vtnaRPcveckBZdlHnd7cMtdAYc/s1600/StrangersInBox.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4LXlCIB3IGU3rW115bpuzKcJnvx5Oia6TIH4382hNGhMYK6pV0Ja2uaxFFI5vWMxe2ZDpEiIWk3GssQ_3x7t5z1X81nTNa0capgvVdHk1up218zZZ0vtnaRPcveckBZdlHnd7cMtdAYc/s640/StrangersInBox.png" width="494" /></span></a></div>
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<a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/?px" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_h.png?x-id=ee78bde9-4356-49be-8462-aaca57810706" style="border: none; float: right;" /></a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17224956305011956775noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922356879302566976.post-87833003605409330302013-10-16T18:11:00.001-04:002013-11-17T11:53:23.196-05:00Knit 1, Purl 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu8ONRa3oJ9S7uIqeoAEoZZ3cdLIlLMAUCJDi5yEujUDAlzY9xWR5rTk2FlCwwSBloh14gqiuWTLa_7v-RwTFcIKuWHBbG2XvTeZnFgPsSF9xUTebGO2NgEmTKciF5nWxjg4EfGYEtEqY/s1600/sis+and+me+in+frame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu8ONRa3oJ9S7uIqeoAEoZZ3cdLIlLMAUCJDi5yEujUDAlzY9xWR5rTk2FlCwwSBloh14gqiuWTLa_7v-RwTFcIKuWHBbG2XvTeZnFgPsSF9xUTebGO2NgEmTKciF5nWxjg4EfGYEtEqY/s400/sis+and+me+in+frame.jpg" width="372" /></a></div>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
....Arrrrgggghhhhhh!!!!</h2>
</div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I am an
expert crocheter, thanks to my grandma’s teaching, yet an equally-inept knitter
and <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dressmaker" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Dressmaker">seamstress</a>, despite my grandma’s teaching. </span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">From a very young age, my grandma was a gifted seamstress, knitter, and
crocheter. (Her dad had been a
tailor. She figured she must have “inherited”
her talent from him.) When my grandma
was 13 years old (in the early 1920s), in order to help support her family, she
took a job with a clothing manufacturer.
Her job was to go to couture <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fashion_show" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Fashion show">fashion shows</a>, then go back to the factory
and create exactly by memory (and at a lower cost) the designers’
fashions...yep, there were knockoffs back then, too! </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;">She somehow could create anything (sans
pattern), and she would carry that talent with her well into her 80s.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBHvsaMxx8BNN38ohdqwcJWGSyBvUBrBOPP06LwfoTgGg5UrZ4eqQZmjIZ9dEvkr7HhaDKsiLqIZ6c1ast6ihMBMIgfbhe4xBwwc_zj4CHfcfnK6TmvjPkeJbnZKB0X1ZFScu3DzAwBv8/s1600/deb+hangbag+FRAME.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="1930s crocheted knitted purse " border="0" height="157" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBHvsaMxx8BNN38ohdqwcJWGSyBvUBrBOPP06LwfoTgGg5UrZ4eqQZmjIZ9dEvkr7HhaDKsiLqIZ6c1ast6ihMBMIgfbhe4xBwwc_zj4CHfcfnK6TmvjPkeJbnZKB0X1ZFScu3DzAwBv8/s200/deb+hangbag+FRAME.jpg" title="" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandma's crocheted handbag</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;">She attempted to pass down to each of her eight grandchildren that same talent.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;">No such
luck.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;">Except for me and the crochet
part.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;">In 2005 my grandma gave me what
will always be some of my most prized possessions:</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;">all of her knitting needles, <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crochet_hook" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Crochet hook">crochet hooks</a>,
straight pins and pin cushions, and…wait for it…Singer Sewing Machine
(purchased new in 1930).</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;">I still have
many of her handmade items including a spectacular crocheted, lined handbag with
lucite handle.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;">(I use it often…smiling all
the while.)</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;">At the top of this post you'll see a picture of my
sister and me wearing sweaters my grandma made.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;">Thanks Grandma.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;">Love you so much!</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;">Miss you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;"><i><b>Love your parents. We are so busy growing up, </b></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 107%;"><i><b>we often forget they are growing old.</b></i></span></div>
<div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;">
<a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/?px" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_h.png?x-id=ee78bde9-4356-49be-8462-aaca57810706" style="border: none; float: right;" /></a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17224956305011956775noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922356879302566976.post-28703496376436602192013-10-15T19:46:00.001-04:002013-11-10T21:28:40.813-05:00Recording Life Stories in a Parallel Universe<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcEI-D1ycTHNP7GTk3_mN-hTd6j_k2aSse72BrvYkstzGWUkRXYnC2wuY1BsC44_iaWEP6Wg6ohodtyKGj8l3T-WHSOdZ458vhbFu7fEzS9tDODwIMLRwc0YWTFeyuezLy5Pv-EkQKhMY/s1600/mentor+frame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcEI-D1ycTHNP7GTk3_mN-hTd6j_k2aSse72BrvYkstzGWUkRXYnC2wuY1BsC44_iaWEP6Wg6ohodtyKGj8l3T-WHSOdZ458vhbFu7fEzS9tDODwIMLRwc0YWTFeyuezLy5Pv-EkQKhMY/s320/mentor+frame.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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From <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Courtroom" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Courtroom">Courtroom</a> to Living Room</h2>
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>As <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.legalzoom.com/business-management/running-your-business/employee-vs-independent-contractor-what" rel="legalzoom" target="_blank" title="Independent contractor">independent
contractors</a>, <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Court_reporter" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Court reporter">court reporters</a> move beyond the courtroom, inhabiting a <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parallel_universe_%28fiction%29" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Parallel universe (fiction)">parallel
universe</a> of personal history, recording life stories.</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The independent
contractor world of personal historians is being populated by a growing group
of new inhabitants...we know them as court reporters. As natural-born listeners (and personal
historians in a sense), court <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Journalist" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Journalist">reporters</a> are predisposed to memorializing
events. The personal history business
has become a field court reporters easily relate to and transition into.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It
especially attracts reporters in the latter years of their career. As we grow older, it’s only natural to
reminisce about our own family, our childhood, now long-gone grandparents who
were (and always will be) dear to us. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">After
spending three decades as a court reporting agency owner in <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=40.6641666667,-73.9386111111&spn=0.1,0.1&q=40.6641666667,-73.9386111111%20(New%20York%20City)&t=h" rel="geolocation" target="_blank" title="New York City">New York City</a> and
on <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=40.8,-73.3&spn=1.0,1.0&q=40.8,-73.3%20(Long%20Island)&t=h" rel="geolocation" target="_blank" title="Long Island">Long Island</a>, I decided it was time for a change of pace...so I immigrated to
the legacy profession. I always loved
hearing my grandmothers’ stories about their early childhood…and there were
lots of stories. I started helping
others memorialize their stories for coming generations to enjoy. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It’s funny,
that change of pace I was looking for really turned out to be one that was not
a change at all, except for the venue: from
courtroom to living room. As a personal
historian, I consider the storyteller “the witness;” the “swear-in” is their
introduction with their name, address, date of birth; photographs and personal
memorabilia are “exhibits;” friends and family are “<a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Expert_witness" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Expert witness">expert witnesses</a>.” There is technical, legal, and medical “testimony”
when corporate clients tell about starting their business (perhaps decades
earlier) and the evolution to present day.
There’s even "off-the-record discussion" (when recording is
paused for an occasional break). <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Of course
court reporting skills are not required for those pursuing a career as a
personal historian. The job requirements
are: exemplary interpersonal, written, and verbal <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Communication" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Communication">communication skills</a>,
organization (you are an independent contractor after all), <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Business_acumen" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Business acumen">business acumen</a> is
always a plus, and a passion to preserve our heritage. </span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>It’s your legacy. It’s our legacy. Pass it on.</b></i></span><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17224956305011956775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922356879302566976.post-35235744240930179052013-10-15T19:03:00.000-04:002013-11-10T21:29:04.710-05:00The Early Years of My Career and What I've Learned Along the Way<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ffMGgcE9GoUk34GbBgrwSukagE7jnuHoNb3em3JtAVFwg_0yb0LBnYPddAlh9Y6saa6qm4RfxcDwkm_auA8dkCkJU4Fo_bbMr8-SuRdwUqz0n1MgM9-iYwXJhNnLTSTZ4gWdbkkmqic/s1600/scrabble+letters+lol+frame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="139" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ffMGgcE9GoUk34GbBgrwSukagE7jnuHoNb3em3JtAVFwg_0yb0LBnYPddAlh9Y6saa6qm4RfxcDwkm_auA8dkCkJU4Fo_bbMr8-SuRdwUqz0n1MgM9-iYwXJhNnLTSTZ4gWdbkkmqic/s320/scrabble+letters+lol+frame.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Learn, Observe, Listen</h2>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In 1977 I decided I wanted to be a <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.legalzoom.com/business-formations/business-formations.html" rel="legalzoom" target="_blank" title="Business structure">business owner</a>.
As a young child, I was inspired by my parents and was taught I could be
successful at anything I put my mind to. I once read somewhere, "To be
truly successful in life, you need to find something you're good at doing and
do it. And if <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/God" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="God">God</a> is smiling on you, it'll be something you enjoy doing."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Well, I was good at typing, thanks to years of
piano lessons. That was a start. I was also intrigued by everything law. It
occurred to me that <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Court_reporter" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Court reporter">court reporting</a> might be something I'd be good at. I didn't
know any different, so I dove in and "started a business." What the
heck was I even thinking?? Of course I made mistakes, but I was honorable,
hardworking, and determined to provide the best service possible. I have
learned a lot along the way, not the least of which is to take yourself
seriously, YOU are a business. Not having a site "on land" (as an
independent <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Service_provider" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Service provider">service provider</a>) doesn't mean you're not providing a viable,
valuable service.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My best advice is: Learn...everything there is to
learn about your profession, don't look to make a dollar every second you're
<a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Learning" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Learning">learning</a> (that'll come later); Observe...what works and what doesn't; and
Listen...to what clients want, not what you think they want.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The way service professionals perform their duties
sure has changed a lot through the decades. It is an exciting time. To those
starting out in their careers, I wish you all the best of luck. (Remember:
Learn, Observe, Listen... <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/LOL" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="LOL">LOL</a>. And try to laugh a little along the way.)</span></div>
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<i><strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Successful
people are not gifted. They just work
hard and succeed on purpose.”—G.K.Nielson</span></strong><span style="font-family: Bradley Hand ITC;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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