An old Italian farm, now surrounded by warehouses and a freeway. A noble heritage of Immigrants and Migrants that toiled away for all that fresh, ‘local’ produce for a century or more. 53 more words
Tags » Italians
So, three weeks are gone and there no postcards to show for them as I promised there would be in my previous post.
If I was in Lebanon I could blame my broken promise on a number of things: the unreliable postal system (or unreliable internet connection to be more precise); the shortness of my daughter’s naps and therefore the shortage of time I have to write; or failing all else I could blame it… 154 more words
For one of my collegiate courses, I had to conduct a short oral presentation regarding my father’s assimilation and immigration experience in the United States. My father left Southern Italy with his family at the tender age of 10 in 1970 and the rest is history!