A quiet Sunday, Brisbane, 1954, out front of the fruit shop and milk bar… when cousin Tony came to visit from Melbourne and everyone met there for photos since, at this time, Nonno Anni kept it open from 7am until 10pm, 363 days a year.
It makes me smile to see them all then – Bisnonno Vitale, Granny Maddalena, my dad as a young boy in his best clothes, great-uncle, Vince, Nanna Francesca still in her 20s, Nonno Anni in his work vest (lower centre) with his cousin, Tony, and Tony looking suave between two other fellows, Domenico and Achille, (top left).
It also makes my heart catch a little that they met there so Nonno Anni didn’t have to close the milk bar, even on a Sunday, since people came there after going to church or visiting at the hospital close by.
All the hours my grandparents worked and the decades of holidays they didn’t take so that their children and grandchildren could have different lives, hopefully easier lives. The way so many who are migrants or from poorer beginnings sacrifice and work tirelessly with love and a generous spirit. It’s very humbling to me, especially as, two generations on, I’m able to pursue my dream to write and for this, I’m very grateful – to all of you too. Thank you for your interest in these stories. Zoë 💛 xx
PS. When I was about nine – the age my dad is in a photo here – and cousin Tony was again visiting, we went to Surfers Paradise and I was allowed to get a lift in Tony’s Mercedes while the rest of the family followed in their regular cars. I just couldn’t believe it – my first time in such a car! 😄 And I still remember Tony’s kind grin at seeing my amazement.
PPS. Nonno Anni later replaced the Tristrams sign with the red and white ‘Milk Bar’ one that lit up. The same sign I wrote about in, Joe’s Fruit Shop and Milk Bar that got covered by the flood in 2011.
Zoë Boccabella 
Thank you for sharing your memories. It brings back memories of my own father who worked so hard so my life could be different.
It’s so lovely to hear this brings back your own memories of your father and how hard he worked too. 💕 I’ve such admiration and respect for this migrant generation who worked so hard to benefit all of us. xx
Zoe, your book, Mezza Italiana, and your messages mean so much to me because my father, Tullio Antonucci, came to the United States from Fossa in 1902. I share even more with you. My great grandmother was a Boccabella! I never knew any of my Italian family; only some of my first and second cousins whose father/grandfather also came here from Fossa. You never know who you will find when you reach out with stories as you have. Thank you!
Thank you for your kind words. They mean so much. It’s lovely to be making connections from opposite sides of the world that began from a small village in the mountains of Abruzzo. Who’d have thought?! Those who migrated were so very brave and we’re so fortunate to benefit from the lives they created and that they kept Fossa in their hearts to keep these connections going now. (And I will be writing more about Fossa in future!) 😊xx