|My grandmother at 16 years old, 1936|
The legacy of my grandparents is a great one, and one tendril of it has wrapped itself around my heart and begun to sprout fruit in my writing.
|My great great grandparents in Greece|
My great grandparents were immigrants to this country. (Their story inspired my recent novel which I hope to publish some day.) They came from a depressed economy in Greece at the turn of the century, and tried to grasp the American dream in the coal mines of Carbon County, Utah. My grandfather spent his early years living with four sisters (his two year old brother died of pneumonia) in a tent on the side of a mountain, while his father and mother did their best to provide for their family. He often told us of the tale where he fell in a well, and of the time when he first saw an African American...at college in Salt Lake City!
|My grandfather as a child in the 20's|
My grandmother talked about being teased as children in Salt Lake City, and for some reason, it makes me more proud to know that no matter the unsteady ground upon which our roots were re-planted, my grandparents flourished into great Greek Americans.
My grandfather entered the Army, as an American, and fought in Africa, Italy, and all the way up to Germany...where he raided Hitler's summer home (the prizes he brought back from this are amazing!), and he freed the concentration camp in Dachau (the pictures of this are amazing!). He came back to a young family, and took the next step in the American Dream.
My grandfather, who grew up in a tent, began a booming construction business, which my uncles and cousin still own today, and have created a very well-respected name for themselves, and very successful projects as well.
From all this, I have realized why I love to write. Why history is so important to me. Why I am intrigued with certain eras of history. And it all lies in the memory of my grandmother, and upon the walls and shelves of her house.
|From the steps of the Lincoln Memorial|
|My great great grandmother in Greece|
History is worth writing about. It's worth transporting readers into a different time and place, that really, is part of who they are, even if they don't realize it!