April 10, 1917 -- February 1, 2002

Remembering

Some of the problems I have when I try to write: Where to begin, choice of words, and difficulty with spelling. I don't use words I would like to use for words that may not be as effective as a word that I may be unable to spell. Another problem is where to begin and the purpose of writing.

I will begin this narrative by saying I am blessed with a wonderful family I dearly love. A wife who at seventy-four is always challenging, exasperating, and beautiful. I have four daughters who enjoy teasing me in a loving way. I see inherited traits in them that excuse any faults they may have, but may account for the many, many lovable ways they have. They are generous to their family and giving to those in need: a reflection of their mother and grandmother. If they are the least bit stingy, (which I like to call frugal), moody, or short-tempered, they may reflect their father. Without saying, any poor jokes or puns they may express, may also be inherited from their father's genes. The youngest child is my son. He shares in the good qualities of his sisters and some of the less sterling qualities of his father. To know my son is to love him. It hurts to go on record that his jokes are funnier than mine and his delivery much better.

Now that I have this background out of the way, I will give the reason I am writing. You children have expressed a desire to learn about the family tree and the early happenings in your parents' lives. I feel a sincerity in your desire to know the past because I see how you have all made copies of photos of your great-grandparents, grandparents, and the early pictures of Mom and me.

I will write the background on my side of the family and Mom will write about her side of the family. This will more or less be joint venture.

Chapter One

Having lived with Grandma and Grandpa Basso from my earliest recollection I will begin with the Basso's and write about the Matroni's later on in the narrative.

Basso: Noah (1859-1939) and Nina (1864-1942) were both born in northern Italy, in a town called Traviso in the province of Venice. From what I understand, Noah was fun loving and quite a prankster. Nina was no wallflower and could hold her own.

During their time the young men were drafted into the military and Noah was inducted in the army and assigned to the Cavalry. He was sent to a foreign country. He sent presents to Nina: scarves, handkerchiefs, etc. Nina enjoyed the presents but was concerned about him, not so much about his safety but about all the girls he would meet. When he came home on leave she said if he was sincere, they would have to marry or else she would look around for someone else. That is how Nina Ottovan became Mrs. Noah Basso.

I mentioned Noah was a prankster. The soldiers in the cavalry rode their horses and periodically had to dismount and march. One day as they were marching the officer in charge saw bare footprints in the dust. The company halted and Noah was caught with his boots off. The officer questioned him about his bare feet. Noah said his boots were too tight and hurt his feet. So he took the boots off to rest his feet. The officer said he had just the place to rest his feet, ten days in the stockade with bread and water. Noah was undaunted and resourceful. He got a slop jar and scrubbed it clean. When he was let out of his cell to exercise he managed to bribe the cook to ladle soup into his slop jar, which he took back to his cell to eat with his bread and water. If he learned a lesson from the discipline, he did not learn it by being hungry.

Nina went to work as a housekeeper for Gueseppe Sarto, the parish priest. Gueseppe Sarto was elevated to a bishop and for a while Nina continued to working as his housekeeper. Later in life an anecdote she would tell was that Father Sarto was so poor he would walk barefoot and carry his scarpa (shoes) to keep from wearing them out. However, when he became Bishop Sarto he acquired two or three pairs of shoes. Nina being Nina chided him about his shoe collection. He told Nina that this was the only luxury he had indulged in since becoming a Bishop. Little did Nina know at the time she was chiding the future Pope Pius X.

When Noah returned from the army, he and Nina settled down to raise a family. The first child, my mother, was born June 11, 1889, and was named Angeline. A second daughter born a year and a half later was named Louise.

Going to America

During this time Noah was dissatisfied with the political party and let his feelings be known. The political climate reached a point where he was advised, for the sake of his family, to leave the country. At that time many Italians were immigrating to America. So he and Nina decided they too would leave for America. Before leaving they went to Bishop Sarto and told him of their plans and asked for his blessing. He advised them that America had many wicked people and for them to be on their guard. He then proceeded to bestow the Sacrament of Confirmation on the girls and gave them a blessed medal for a safe journey. We treasure the medal as a relic of Saint Pius X.

Noah and Nina came to America and passed through Ellis Island with their daughters. How or why they settled in Kansas City, I don't know. Probably some friends they had known in Italy had settled there. Noah got a job on the railroad. They bought a house on Twenty-third Street a few blocks west of Summit Street. There they had four more children: Marie, Anthony, Andrew and Elizabeth.

Most of my early memories are centered around my grandmother. My grandparents lived in a house facing Twenty-third Street, located between Summit and the West bottoms. It was a frame house with outside plumbing and a potbelly stove for heat in the winter. In back, but separate from the house, was a shed with a tin roof. Along the side of the house grapes had been planted. The vines grew up some pillars and across a lattice that was attached to the house. I lived in this house until I was about three and half years old. My father and mother both worked so I was with my Grandmother most of the time.

The city fathers decided to level out Twenty-third Street which was very hilly. I remember a man would come and tell my Grandma that they were going to blast. Grandma would lead me to the shed in the back of the house, hold me on her lap and wrap her arms around me. We could hear small rock landing on the tin roof. She was very protective of me. I was wondering why I remembered the shed with the tin roof and the grapes growing along the side of the house forming a canopy until I remembered a lesson I had in mnemonics. Some years back B.T. (before television); radio was the main form of home entertainment. One of the programs on the radio featured an entertainer who astounded his audience with his phenomenal memory. He would be handed a magazine to look through and would mentally note the advertisement on each page. Having handed back the magazine, the master of ceremonies would give a page number and the entertainer would describe the content of the page. I was telling our priest friend Msgr. King that I thought this man had a marvelous memory. Msgr. King said this was a mnemonic trick and he could teach me how to memorize twenty-five objects in two minutes. I was all for that. He began by telling how to develop pegs for each number. For example: number one could be bun, number two dew, number three tree, etc. Next he said you remember the unusual--the more unusual, the easier to remember. He said you see cars passing on the street, which is common place, and it is hard to remember the different cars. But let an elephant walk down the street and you will remember that because it is so unusual. He had me assign pegs to numbers that is words that rhymed with the numbers. When given objects to remember they were mentally associated in an unusual way to the pegs in a numeric order. When asked what the object given for a certain number was it was just a matter of remembering the peg that was assigned to the number and the unusual or exaggerated object associated with the number.

I have wondered why I could remember certain instances when I was so young. Upon examination, the events I remembered were unusual. The shed with the tin roof was a place of safety in time of danger.

I found some stilts that some neighbor children had left in front of the house. I brought them home and Grandpa tried to teach me to walk on them under the canopy of grape vines. It was an unusual experience.

I remember the pot belly stove, the popping sound of the fire. I remember the outhouse because of the slop jars we used to pee in at night. I remember when the girls peed, they made a whistling sound. I remember a walker I had when I was learning to walk and when we were in a house that had a second floor (not my Grandparents house--probably one my folks rented) and I walked over the top of the steps. What a commotion, everyone rushing to my aide. Fortunately, I was not hurt. I remember my Grandfather telling me nursery rhymes in Italian. I remember one rhyme in particular. It was about two brothers named Titoni and Titeli who went nut hunting. One brother would find the nuts and the other brother would eat them. I remember a stuffed elephant that was mounted on wheels. On holidays they would tie money on his tail and I was told the elephant laid money (evidently not a Republican). One day in a fit of anger I took my elephant out to the shed with the tin roof and threw him behind some lumber. When I went to retrieve him he was nowhere to be found. I believe the donor to the elephant's tail must have disposed of him.

I can't remember my sister Teresa when I was living at my grandparents' house. She was four years older then I, and must have been in school. There are pictures of the two of us taken about this time.

Chapter Two

My mother and father bought a two-story house at 1620 Belleview. The lower half was brick and the upper half was wood. On the first floor we had a large entrance hall, a living room, dining room, kitchen with a large pantry, and a back porch. On the second floor we had three bedrooms and a bathroom. There was a stairway in the kitchen and one in the hall that met on a landing that led to the second floor. We had a large basement with a furnace, a coal storage area and a room my father converted to a wine cellar. There was a basement door that led to a long back yard. There were also steps from the kitchen porch that led down to the yard. Under the porch was storage area. We had gone modern with a bathroom and central heating.

The first big event I remember after our move was starting to school. I was enrolled in kindergarten in the public school called Switzer. I was five years old and for the first time noticed girls. I should say a girl. I thought she was the prettiest thing I had seen. We played many games in class, among them a chariot race. The girls were supposed to be the horses and the boys the drivers. The girls held long ribbons in their hands that were passed back to the boys. The big thrill in my five-year old lifeÑ"she" was the horse and I was the driver. We circled the classroom and boys had a ruler and were supposed to spear a ring that was suspended by a string. I can't remember spearing the ring, all I can remember is the little girl holding the other end of my ribbons. After I left school I don't know what became of the little girl but she must have grown up to be a movie star.

My sister Teresa was enrolled in the same school and walked me to and from school. I remember one day she was late getting out of class. I was waiting for her when a couple of older girls offered to walk me home. I refused. I was going to wait for my sister. That was the last time I got that kind of an offer.

I spent only one year at Switzer. The following year my mother enrolled me in the parochial school. Those were the years when nuns taught school, and the priests taught the boys to serve on the altar. The Mass was in Latin and we had to learn the response prayers in Latin. At first we served at Mass with older boys to learn our duties on the altar. At that time altar boys were not allowed to touch the chalice. Girls were not permitted to serve. Since the Cathedral was the Bishop's church we were taught to serve the Bishop at High Mass. The different duties: Miter and Crosier--the Bishop's staff and hat; book and bouige--holding the book for the Bishop to read from and a candle in a candle holder--more symbolic than supplying light. Incense was in a container that looked like Aladdin's lamp, and thurible, which hung from a chain containing lighted charcoal. A deacon directed the ritual signaling the participants on the altar.

After I completed my training I was assigned to a lot of 6 a.m. masses. The altar boys' room was located in the basement of the church. The light switch was located at the bottom of the stairs, next to a door that led to a crypt where Bishop Hogan was buried. In the winter it was dark at 6 a.m. and I was apprehensive going down the steps to turn on the light. I would grab my cassock and scurry up to the sacristy. You weren't going to catch me downstairs any longer than necessary. Some years later the Bishop's remains were transferred to the convent of the Sisters of Perpetual Adoration. When the sisters sold the convent his remains were moved again. Let's hope the Bishop has found his final resting place.

My Parents

My father, Joseph Alfred Matroni (1879-1933), was approximately five feet nine inches tall, weighed one hundred ninety pounds, and was balding. I was told his hair loss was due to a bout with typhoid fever. He was a loving, kind, and gentle man to his family. He was always ready to help a friend.

I don't know when or where he met my mother, Angeline Basso. They were married November 4, 1912. They had a happy life together. He passed away in 1933. Angie or Ange, as she was called by her friends and relatives, never remarried. Joe and Angie had two children Teresa, born September 25, 1913, and me, Robert, born April 10, 1917. I will call my mother Angie in writing about my parents and I will call my father Joe. When they were living I called them Mom and Dad, never by their first name.

Angie tells that Joe owned a tavern in the West bottoms. One day she was in the tavern with some friends and one of the fellows in their group remarked, "Don't mess with the bartender (referring to Joe)." The other evening I was in here and some man caused a commotion and when told to quiet down, shouted to the bartender, ÔWhat are you going to do about it?' Joe, the bartender, put one hand on the bar went over on the other side, picked up the man and threw him out the door. Everything returned to normal."

My father died when I was sixteen. He was always good to my sister Teresa and me. He would go to the city market and bring home baskets of fresh fruit. The baskets were square and made of thin wood banded at the top with a wire. They held about a half dozen pears, or peaches, sometimes about three pounds of grapes. He very seldom brought home candy; it was always some kind of fruit.

I remember one day going to the market with him and we stopped in one of the fruit and vegetable stands. The man must have been a friend because he called my dad by name, "Joe what will it be?" This was during prohibition so it was illegal to have liquor. Joe answered, "Let's have a drink, one for me, one for the boy, and one for you." The drink was vermouth. He paid the man. The vermouth tasted like medicine so I slipped Dad my drink. When we were ready to leave the man said, "Wait a minute, Joe, it is my turn to buy--one for you, one for the boy, and one for me." I thought that was great and never forgot it. My father was a good cook. He taught my mother to prepare Italian cuisine. His ravioli was excellent and pasta dishes were, as my sister Teresa would say, superb. Our Sunday meal was served in the dining room, always with a tablecloth and cloth napkins. We nearly always started the meal with soup followed with a meat course or a pasta dish.

Cooking

Other foods we enjoyed were noodles cooked with a salt fish. The fish came in a wooden box, packed in salt. There was also a dried stockfish that had to be soaked overnight before cooking. It was called baccal`a. We also had little smoked herring, grilled on the stove in olive oil; Risotto, a rice dish that was added over chicken, which had been cooked in a tomato sauce; and boiled neck bones with beans and noodles. I remember when I was little going to the park with Nina to pick young dandelions which were used to make a salad with an olive oil and vinegar dressing. Nina called them radicchi (probably a slang). I was worried that we were going to be arrested for picking the dandelions. How naive. They should have paid us.

There were the usual meals of roast, chicken, ham, sausage, etc. I would be remiss if I didn't mention cinnamon liver and polenta. You children should remember having been served that. Some of you probably say "UGH" to the liver but enjoyed the polenta with cheese. Nina was the expert in preparing polenta. She had a big iron kettle (shaped like a witch's pot) and a wooden spoon for stirring the cornmeal as it cooked. She would drop a spoonful of cooked cornmeal in a cup of water and when it formed a ball it was done. The next step was to pour it on to cheesecloth and shape it like a loaf of bread to be sliced with a string. The polenta was served with cheese between two spoonfuls of polenta and then the cinnamon liver was placed on top of the polenta.

I mentioned the iceman.

We, and most everyone else, did not have refrigeration. We had iceboxes to keep food from spoiling. A pan was kept under the icebox to catch the water from the melting ice. If you forgot to empty the pan regularly, you had a nice puddle of water. The iceman furnished his customers with a large square card that showed the weights on each corner: 25, 50, 75 and 100 lbs. The day you wanted ice, the card was put in your front window with the weight you wanted shown on top. Very ingenious. Kids would follow the ice wagon for the ice shavings that fell on the edge of the wagon as the iceman cut the large blocks of ice by scoring with his tongs and chipping with an ice pick. He would put a gunnysack over his shoulder and back and hoist the ice and deliver it.

Hucksters sold fruits and vegetables. More than one came around. Probably the favorite was one called Ike. He had a large wagon drawn by two horses and sold the best quality produce. His red potatoes were the best. He sold them by the peck. He used a round container with a leather bottom to measure. You had to watch him because he put his hand on the bottom of the container and the leather punched up, shorting you on the measure. One of the women on the block accused him of cheating and told him he would to hell for cheating. He told her he didn't care as most of his friends and customers would be there and he wouldn't be lonesome.

Another vender was the Manor bread man. The story goes that he was slow delivering on his last stop and when he came out of the house the horse was on his way back to the bakery. Smart horse, he knew the route.

Milk was sold in glass bottles and delivered by horse and buggy. Bottles were left out at night with a note and money. Only whole milk or cream was sold. In the winter the cream would freeze and rise to the top of the milk and push out the paper cap. The good old days we talk about are when vendors made home deliveries and doctors made house calls.

Entertainment

One day, in the spring I was coming home from school and my mother, Angie, was in front of the house sweeping the sidewalk. She walked up to the corner to meet me and said she'd race me home. My sister and I would often race her when we went for a walk and most of time she won, even after giving us a head start. She was also good at skipping rope and playing hopscotch.

I lived about four blocks from a park and most of my playtime with the boys in the neighborhood was in the street. There were not many cars and traffic was light. In those days we had icemen and hucksters that sold out of horse drawn wagons. The one street hazard was horse droppings or as we called them road apples. We played softball and several running games. One I remember was called stinkpot. A line was drawn across the street and two large circles about 10 yards from either side of the centerline were drawn. Those were the stinkpots. There were two teams, one on either side of the line. The object of the game was to circle someone on the other side and return to your side without being tagged. If successful that person had to go the stinkpot. The only way he could return to his side was to have someone on his team race down and tag him before being tagged.

Roller skates were a big thing as I was growing up. The street was a natural skating rink. A tin can made an excellent puck and a broom handle with a board nailed at the bottom was the hockey stick. Aside from sore shins and few falls resulting in skinned knees, it was a lot of fun.

When skates became worn, they were used to make a scooter, that is, they were nailed on the bottom of a board with a board up the front to hold on to. Skateboards hadn't been invented yet. However, this sounds like the original idea for skateboards.

Friends

The first friend I can remember was a neighbor boy named Hayden Lawrence. His mother and father were going to visit relatives in Trenton, Missouri. I was asked and got permission to go with him so he would have a companion. I remember are riding the train to Trenton. Back then there were not many car owners and I don't recall busses. I remember the train was B.A. (before air conditioning). The train belched smoke and cinders and an open window sucked in smoke so we rode most of the way with the windows closed.

The first family member we visited owned a dairy. I made my first and last attempt at milking. I remember the cat showed up at milking time and the person milking would squirt the milk at the little beggar. I thought it odd the family drank skim milk and ate margarine. They were thrifty so they sold the cream and butter. The next family members we visited lived in the boonies. I mean boonies. We rode in a model T on a path that passed for road for quite a distance to a gated wire fence and through the gate another long way to a farmhouse. This family had one cow. They drank cream and ate butter at mealtime and had two or three jars of homemade jellies. I remember the food. I don't remember anything about the house except the beds straw mattresses. The first night I had to pee so badly but couldn't find the commode so I raised the window and peed out the window. We were on the second floor.

I remember a fishing incident. We went down to the river and Mr. Lawrence stripped down to his long johns and jumped in the river. The water was not high and he plowed through the stream until he found a hole in the bank under the water. He would feel in the hole for a fish. He did this a few times and finally pulled out a fish, that almost got away from him. Years later some of the men at work were in a discussion about fishing. One man told how he used to hand fish. This brought a lot of laughs from every one except me. I had seen it done when I was a kid.

After the Lawrence family moved away, the Sharp family moved next door. They had a son my age named Harry but everyone called him Bud. He had an older sister named Edna. Bud was my close friend and playmate as we were growing up, until his tragic death at an early age. He was an athlete who could run fast and was a terrific swimmer. He swam underwater faster on his side than the rest of the fellows could swim on top. When he was swimming in a lake his favorite trick was to dive in and swim under water a good distance and just his face came out to breathe. If you didn't know how fast he swam, he was hard to spot.

Conclusion

When Dede and I had this idea to write about our families we went to the Mormon Family Center in Phoenix to research the Creegan, Matroni, and Basso family backgrounds.

The center is a most interesting place. The people are friendly and helpful. They started us off with a Pedigree Chart to use. We listed the vital statistics of our parents and traced them to our grandparents. That is when the fun began, going thru microfiche printouts, old records written in Latin or Italian and difficult to read. We spent half a day with not much to show for it. We finally found a book that contained the Twelfth Census of the United States. It listed those born at that time. (see attached photocopy of the record)