Our Nonnie will always be a symbol of endurance. If she had been a pioneer, she would have been a survivor. You had certain guarantees from her: straight talk, great food and lots of it, advice, hard work and a recipe, of course. Then, in these recent years, a headband. What we now recognize as the directive for the environment: "reduce, reuse, recycle," was her lifestyle, always. Growing up in a small house with 5 people, the small 13 gallon trash can she used was never full for the once a week pickup.
Although she wouldn't be able to spell it or define it, Nonnie was an environmentalist before it was popularized. Some examples: When her children were little, she always had a bag of worn out clothes for the ragman who came by with his horse and buggy. But first they had to cut off all the buttons and put them in the button jar. Fruit and vegetables that they ate came from the garden or the park. All produce scraps went into the mulch pile in the back yard. When she stayed in Blue Diamond, Nevada with Pat she would have Pat go with the little red wagon to the horse corral to scoop up road apples to dig into the tomato patch.
Jars got washed and reused for storage or for jellies and jam. Extra garden vegetables were preserved and put on the shelves in the cellar. Everybody gathered dandelion greens for soups and salad at the milkman's farm. She knew where to find safe wild mushrooms and we had to help pick wild berries that either ended up in pies and preserves or were taken to sell door to door on Pratt street at 25 cents a quart for money for camp and to pay our insurance.
A clothes dryer was out of the question. Clothes always dried on the pulley line or on the lines in the basement. Many days stiff, frozen laundry had to thaw out on the small radiators in each room. Outgrown woolen clothes or remnants from the local woolen factory were cut and stitched into long strips to become beautiful braided rugs. She went to trade school to learn sewing and rug making. She made many hooked rugs with original designs and colors. If you would phone her when she was working a rug, she never got the humor of saying "I'm over here hookin" when you asked what she was doing.
Mary crocheted beautiful afghans, many of them with granny squares. She made numerous baby blankets. She used her scraps of yarn to make multicolored afghans that she called Indian blankets. In these last years, she crocheted enough head bands for the immediate world, and loved to tell everyone that she buys the yarn with her 25 cents a game bingo winnings at Holdrege Home. We hope that you will take one today, and stick it in your coat pocket for next winter.
Nonnie was generous and found ways to share that didn't drain her budget. Helpful neighbors would find her at the door with a big pot of pasta fazoole or a jar of spaghetti and sauce. Church fundraisers would end up with home baked banana breads or jellies from her kitchen.
To celebrate Nonnie's 85th birthday, she made her first trip to Italy with Lil, Pat and granddaughter Melanie. What a joy it was to see her discover, for the first time, the richness of her heritage. It was so special to hear her say, after all the fun and tours, "I feel so proud to be Italian."
She was very devout, and never without her rosary beads. She had a direct line to St Anthony and never doubted that her prayers were heard. She never said a rosary of petition without a rosary of thanksgiving.
As long as everyone can remember, Nonnie knew the names of the flowers, shrubs and trees at Mohegan Park. She loved having flowers in her garden. Everyone who knew her learned something every day. She managed to share what she knew and we benefited greatly. Had she been given the chance, the wider world would have been immeasurably and further enriched by her as a botanist, scientist or teacher. She was practical, creative and hard working. She was generous, resourceful and determined.
After her husband's stroke, she was his caregiver for 21 years. One time the doctor told her that Grandpa's well-being and longevity were directly linked to her garden vegetables and her cooking.
These are all wonderful achievements, yet they are overshadowed by what our longtime family friend, Lorraine Kirkpatrick, rightly calls Nonnie's true and most treasured legacy: Nonnie was deprived of the chance to continue school when she was forced to take a factory job after her 13th birthday. She was determined that this would not happen to her children and vowed that when she had children they would complete college. She knew that education was power, and that education allowed for financial independence. This dream was fulfilled. All three of her children graduated from private Catholic Colleges without benefit of scholarships or financial aid. Our parents paid tuition from a factory worker's salary supplemented by money earned by mom working at Aunt Rita's laundramat and frugile living. Dad brought lunches to work with eggplant or pepper sandwiches, and on Sundays they would ride through the park to pick up cans and bottles to recycle. There was a penny jar to go periodically to the dimes savings bank for a deposit. The criticism of friends that it was foolish to send a girl to college (meaning Pat, the eldest) went in one ear and out the other with her. And so to mom and dad, again, words are not sufficient for your vision and determination to enrich our lives and the lives of all those who have had the joy of being in your circle of life and friendship.
And so we thank you, Nonnie. We will celebrate you, always.
Written by: Pat (Tringe) Van Betten
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