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Tag: Lowell

1951 Dad at Providence College
Dad’s first 24 years

Dad’s first 24 years

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In a file folder containing Dad‘s retirement documents from 1988, I came across a five-page typewritten document. Titled: Autobiography A handwritten note at the top of yellowing paper indicates it was completed on July 21, 1954. Was it written by request of a potential employer? We may never know. Here it is, in its entirety: Autobiography by Harold E. Vayo, Jr. My birth occurred, I have been informed, at St. Luke’s Hospital, Utica, New York, about four-thirty on the morning…

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1966 Thanksgiving table
‘Rustic Holiday’

‘Rustic Holiday’

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This year, Thanksgiving falls on the third anniversary of Mom’s passing. Anyone who’s grieved a loved one’s death knows the sadness is unpredictable. Sometimes it sneaks in with a sigh; other times it clobbers you like a mallet and takes your breath away. But you learn, bit by bit, to “carry on” and do your best. And so I dug around this week for a Thanksgiving poem, knowing how Mom loved the holiday and the gathering of family and friends….

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Mom & Dad, 2002 pose for 50th anniversary | Harold & Joan Vayo
‘Returning’

‘Returning’

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My middle brother, Dave, wove together this remembrance of family and friends returning to Madison a few months ago to honor Dad’s memory in a heartfelt Celebration of Life: On June 11, about 40 family members and friends gathered at my parents’ spiritual home, St. Margaret’s Catholic Church in Madison, Connecticut. Dad had passed away in April of the previous year, before the risks COVID posed had diminished significantly, and this had limited the number of people who attended his…

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Harold Vayo ocean painting
The gift of our grandfather

The gift of our grandfather

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On this day in the year 1993, our paternal grandfather, Harold E. Vayo Sr., was laid to rest in Saint Mary Cemetery in Tewksbury, Massachusetts. Grandpa had lived to be 94 years old. With her permission, here’s the Memorial Tribute my cousin Jean Marie (known to friends and family as “Muff”) presented during Grandpa’s funeral Mass at St. Joseph’s Lithuanian Roman Catholic Church on Rogers Street in Lowell: As we prepared for Christmas this year, God was busy preparing a…

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1970 Grandpa Vayo at the piano
A Christmas treasure

A Christmas treasure

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As miserable a job as it was to clear out Mom and Dad’s house back in June, sweet treasures from the past continue to surface. Among them, a cassette tape labeled “Dad playing at Ellen’s Christmas party.” Who’s Ellen? She was Dad’s sister Jean’s husband John’s sister (got that?). Ellen Cull, a teacher, lived in Lowell, Massachusetts. “Dad,” in this case, was Grandpa Vayo. It took me until Thanksgiving to have the courage to listen to the tape, fearing it…

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1952 letter from Grandpa
Sarcasm, 70 years on

Sarcasm, 70 years on

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Well, I left something out in an earlier story. As much as I learned about Grandpa Vayo while researching “The Family Scholar,” I didn’t pick up on one important attribute. Sarcasm. Grandpa knew how to take a sarcastic turn in his writing. Here’s a letter Grandpa mailed to Dad on July 30, 1952. My father was in boot camp at Fort Dix, New Jersey, preparing to be sent overseas during the Korean Conflict. Dear Son: Guess there isn’t much news…

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Newsclip of Lone Ranger promotional tour
Radio mystery

Radio mystery

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Dad and Mom grew up listening to the radio. They loved it. My brothers and I grew up hearing them reminisce: “the Shadow knows” and “a pickle in the middle with the mustard on top … hoo, hoo, hoo, HOO!” From Jack Benny to Burns & Allen to a laughter-choked explanation of Fibber McGee’s closet, we were well-schooled in our parents’ favorite radio shows. When satellite radio launched a Radio Classics channel 20 or so years ago, I got the…

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inside Boy Scouts book
The Good Scout

The Good Scout

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We heard it every Sunday whenever there was a chill in the air: “Who wants a fie-oo in the fie-oo-place?” Dad loved to build a good fire, hear the crackling sound of properly dried kindling, poking the coals together in the late evening, and maybe even taking a snooze in a nearby comfy chair. It was only this week that I realized his obsession with building fires traced back to his youth. Way back Ever since posting about Dad’s college…

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1918 Harold E Vayo World War I
His father’s uniform

His father’s uniform

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The year 2020 has given us a lot to complain about. A global pandemic. Unstable economy. A contentious election. Looking back 100 years, our ancestors didn’t have it any easier. They had their own pandemic, which claimed a member of Gary’s family. And just a few years later, another massive flu outbreak that took my father’s maternal grandfather. One hundred years ago, the presidential election was between Warren G. Harding and James. M. Cox. Harding’s campaign message was a call…

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Immaculate Conception class of 1942
The raise

The raise

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My dad likes ice cream. Back in the ’60s, he’d take us out for a family drive around Berkshire County on hot summer Sunday afternoons. Chances are, we’d end up at Dairy Queen. We’d each get a dipped cone. Back then, there were two choices: vanilla soft serve, dipped in chocolate or cherry. Chocolate for my brothers. Cherry for me. Dad always had a plan. He wouldn’t order anything for himself, but was at the ready to “help out” when…

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