CaliforniaMama • Nov 23, 2011 10:06 am
(Apologies to peoples of the world - here is yet another American holiday.)
Before I was born, my aunt (my mother's oldest sister) and uncle owned a turkey farm. During the holidays, customers (pictured above) would come and pick out their turkey. My aunt, uncle, mom and other relatives would "dress" (pluck the feathers and all that) the turkeys and prepare them for the customers.
This photo was taken by the local newspaper photographer for a newspaper feature on the turkey farm. This was probably the mid 1950's.
My uncle immigrated from the Azores as a teenager. He had only a few dollars in his pocket. He obtained some kind of menial job. He saved what he could and used the money to buy a few turkey chicks. He raised the turkeys and sold them. He used the profit to buy twice as many chicks the next year, and so on, until he had a full-fledged farm.
When he felt he was making enough money, he went looking for a wife. People in the community told him about my grandmother, a young widow. He went calling. (Imagine having a man knock on your door to see if you would marry him when you'd never even met him before!)
She turned him down. She wasn't interested in marrying again. However, my aunt saw a good prospect and spoke up saying that she was available and interested. And so began a love story.
My uncle went looking for a widow with children and ended up with a much younger, beautiful, virgin bride. They lived happily together for more than 25 years.
He was my favorite uncle and my Godfather. I have his old-fashioned, hand-painted-on-curved-glass portrait hanging near my bed.
Before I was born, my aunt (my mother's oldest sister) and uncle owned a turkey farm. During the holidays, customers (pictured above) would come and pick out their turkey. My aunt, uncle, mom and other relatives would "dress" (pluck the feathers and all that) the turkeys and prepare them for the customers.
This photo was taken by the local newspaper photographer for a newspaper feature on the turkey farm. This was probably the mid 1950's.
My uncle immigrated from the Azores as a teenager. He had only a few dollars in his pocket. He obtained some kind of menial job. He saved what he could and used the money to buy a few turkey chicks. He raised the turkeys and sold them. He used the profit to buy twice as many chicks the next year, and so on, until he had a full-fledged farm.
When he felt he was making enough money, he went looking for a wife. People in the community told him about my grandmother, a young widow. He went calling. (Imagine having a man knock on your door to see if you would marry him when you'd never even met him before!)
She turned him down. She wasn't interested in marrying again. However, my aunt saw a good prospect and spoke up saying that she was available and interested. And so began a love story.
My uncle went looking for a widow with children and ended up with a much younger, beautiful, virgin bride. They lived happily together for more than 25 years.
He was my favorite uncle and my Godfather. I have his old-fashioned, hand-painted-on-curved-glass portrait hanging near my bed.