There were many things she did not cook good, because she cooked them too fast- my one Uncle says.
But she made the best Chocolate Chips that you’d ever had, she made some killer fudge.
A great hot dog sliced down the middle, a slice of American cheese and then wrapped in bacon and cooked it in the oven.
They shared some of the best nights, around the dinning room table playing, Michigan Rummy, with a couple of her friends from the neighborhood and the kids.
Boy did she hate losing, especially to the kids.
Pop-Pop didn’t like her playing, damn bingo, but he knew it kept her sane. She wasn’t the best with bills or money, but she did what she had to do.
As one of her boys got older and got a job, he would lend her money when she needed it, and if he was broke she would always find a few bucks for him.
She loved being a Grandma when the first grandson arrived, she was in her glory, and when her son bought the house on South Cook, she would be over all the time.
It was a blessing and a curse, but more of a blessing.
She would take Jon all the time to the mall on the bus.
When her twin grand-daughters and other grandson were born, that added to her joy, but didn’t get much time.
Many of us miss her… she was taken far too soon from us.
But as my Uncle would say…
I am sure that she is smiling down on all of us, maybe even from that big Bingo hall… in the sky!”
Whiskey John
Whiskey John
As for my Pop’s, he was given the nickname- Whiskey John.
Pop’s was in the marines, they say he was just a private, a foot soldier, a grunt. It’s assumed infantry. He fought in the South Pacific against the Japs.
Some are pretty sure he took some type of wound to his head, and was sent back to the states.
He had a nice scar on one side of his head, and from the stories he use to tell us, he could not see for awhile, due to the wounds.
His children would sit at the kitchen table with him, when he would come home with a couple shots in him and he would cook up some crazy stuff that always smelled really good.
He would make them try some, and he would say that about 89% of the time it tasted great!
He would never tell him what it was, until after he ate it, probably a smart thing to do. But he would be cooking and eating and he would tell his stories whether it be about the Marines or his day on the job. He’d tell you the truth. Many were not sure if it was the truth or not, but some always believed, because no matter how many times he’d tell the story- it never changed.
As for the story of the scar on his head, he always said that he was on patrol, and a mortar hit and killed a lot of the guys in his squad. That he was lucky, and only got head injury because he was short and away from the initial blast. So the shrapnel from the mortar got him, but he lived.
One of his many sayings that you’d hear him say many, many times was,
“JC- you didn’t get me then…”
Some say he never changed, that he was a good man, never heard a bad word about him.
Even to this very day many of my family come across people, and they say “PINA? Who was your dad?”
When they say “Whiskey John”, well they will tell us that he was a legend among the Iron Workers, as they’d go into a few stories.
Whether working, playing piano, or drinking, he did it hard, he gave 150%.
When his children were small, he didn’t drive, so my Uncles would walk to Aunt Millie’s with him almost every Saturday.
From South Cook to South Olde Trentan, always the same walk down, but it could vary on the way back.
He loved life, hanging out with his sisters and brothers at Aunt Millies’ house, singing, telling stories, drinking, laughing, great times.
Whiskey and his nephew Mickey were like “two peas in a pod” and they were both marines.
I recall them singing “You take the leg from some old table…”
Aunt Millie adored Whiskey’s grand-kids too, and we all know that to this day, that she most certainly loved.. loved… loved, her brother. Whom she referred to fondly as, “OUR JOHNNY!”
They loved life, love their families, loved music, especially playing the piano.
Then they moved for the return trip home, at least 4 to 5 pubs; M and D’s, Mickeys, Majakisis, Uncle Frankie’s Club, it was an education that you can’t get at any university.
All the guys decked in their cool hats and suits, all the nicknames, Red Face, Whiskey John, Frankie Mason, The Hawk, Mouse.
These guys are the characters that you see in all those mob movies, but they were the nicest guys in the world.
My one Uncle would get a pocket full of nickels, dimes and quarters.
He was a wealthy kid, that is for sure.
He’d go into the bar, and they would drink Birch Beer and eat chips, play at the bowling machine, and then Whiskey would get on the Piano.
Sooner or later, my other Uncle would be up there singing the tunes that they were taught at the house. This scene repeated at each pub.
People loved the Whiskey John, and he loved the people.
We were taught many things from Pop’s- to work hard, to help people who needed help, without being asked. To respect elders, and not get out of line.
In closing, some family say, that they didn’t have a whole lot growing up, but they had what they needed, and they appreciated what they had.
Both Grandmother and Grandfather Pina loved us children and grandchildren, and they showed their love through hugs and kisses, not gifts and expensive items.
They didn’t help with homework, or drive their own children to school, they made them learn to be independent and free thinkers.
They gave an environment to experience and experiment with life and I along with my family thank them for it, every day.
It helped make us who we are today, it truly goes full circle, because the lessons that were taught, from the Ace and the Whiskey are the same lessons some of us pass onto our very own kids and family…
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