Preservation of American Hellenic History
Preservation of American Hellenic History
by Jason C. Mavrovitis
After working closely with Eleni in the 1920s Louie found employment during the Depression first with Brooks Brothers as a tailor, and later with Junior Miss as a dressmaker. By the time my sister was ten or twelve, Leonardo was well established at Junior Miss, working closely with my mother's cousin Christos Capidaglis. He was a prominent designer known in the business as "Capi."
At seasonal changes, at birthdays, and prior to special social events, Papou would appear at our front door late on a Saturday afternoon burdened with an armful of dresses, skirts, and blouses for my sister and mother. Nitsa and Mom would try on one garment after another while my mother and Papou marked them with tailor's chalk and pinned hems, waistlines, and bust lines for later correction.
Nitsa and I had both learned to mark, to pin, to cut with scissors and pinking shears, to hem, to sew, and to press. Everyone in our home knew and practiced these skills. So, for several days we all worked on the garments until mother and Nitsa had their new fashions ready to wear.
This went on even after Nitsa was married to Stanton H. Avitabile. While he was a medical student, they lived in a small apartment in the East Seventies near New York Medical Center's Cornell Medical School. Because their small apartment had little closet space, I would transport and exchange a carload of her wardrobe when the seasons changed. There were often new dresses from Papou in the delivery.
In Louie's case, the old adage about the shoemaker's children did not apply. His children and grandchildren, though not of his blood, had the best that he could provide.
In the summers of the late 1940s Mom and Dad rented a cabin at Dover, New Jersey, in a lakeside, vacation community. Mom and Nitsa spent July and August there while I was at Boy Scout Troop 123s Camp Waramaug at Ten Mile River, New York. Dad would arrive at the cabin late on Friday evenings after leaving the steaming-hot streets of the Seventh Avenue fur market in Manhattan.
On many Saturday mornings, Mom, Dad, and my sister would drive along the Delaware River through Port Jervis, New York, to Narrowsburg, Ten Mile River, and the camp. Dad was both an interested parent and a member of the Board that was responsible for the camp and its boys. When they arrived, the trunk of the green 1946 Hudson usually was filled with watermelon, corn, and other treats for all. (photo)
On the final Sunday morning of August in 1950, the last year that I was at the camp as its cook, Dad came to take my friends and me to Dover. That night, they would go on with him to Brooklyn. I was to spend the week with Mom and Nitsa at the cabin before I started my senior year in high school.
We arrived at noon just in time for lunch. Mom and Nitsa were waiting, as were family friends and Dover neighbors George and Pearl Gigiakos, their daughter, Catherine, and Papou and Adela.
Mom came to the door of her cabin immediately on hearing the boisterous sounds of hungry teenagers. There was no sound sweeter to her ears. There were kisses, hugs, and hurried instructions to start the barbecue, set the tables, toss the salad, and do all the other things necessary for a picnic.
While these preparations were being made, my friends Dick Stillwell, Ron Moss, Don Kaye, Frank Johnston, Warner Shattuck, and I walked to the lake with Nitsa, Catherine, and two other of Nitsa's girl friends. We rode the carousel, jumping from animal to animal and reaching far out to reach for the brass rings. When one of us was successful, the hero was lauded with shouts and whistles.
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