Italians-Americans are omni-present in New Jersey. Most people will not remember New Jersey without pizza and hoagie shops. I grew up in Hammonton and I remember when all the local slang was infused with Italian curses, words that I cannot spell like mi-cue, citruelle, and my favorite gubba-doste which means hard-headed. I never really saw these words in print so I do not know how to spell them. I know the one nice term that my grandmother Baglivo used for all her girl grandchildren was gwandiza-bella. Well, I wanted no part of that Italian heritage at that time and I certainly didn't curse in Italian. But what I clearly remember is going to my grandfather Tassone's house on East Stokes Road in Atsion. There was absolutely nothing Italian going on in that house. I believe it was due to the fact that my Tassone grandmother died when my father was about eleven years old leaving him to be raised by his older sisters: Anne, Julia, Lorretta, and Mary. I guess all the culture and the Italian cooking died with her. On visits we were offered bread, cold-cuts, and mustard. I certainly viewed mustard as "what the other people used" a foriegn condiment. I always felt I was going back in time when I visited there and it was exciting to me. A yard with white sandy pine barrens soil with a few sparse sprigs of grass that only needed a swinging scythe to cut it back. These Italians talked like true Pineys. Even the names in the neighborhood excited me: Wells, Lemunyon, and Giberson. There was a pump in the kitchen with no plumbing or toliet until about 1955 so I actually had to use the "outhouse". The center of the house had a huge black wood/coal burning furnace and I remember the bedrooms being horribly cold. Oh, but I can't forget the one spectacular centerpiece in this house: a player piano. My grandfather was lucky enough to have my father for a son because I believe he got a TV for my grandfather before they got plumbing. My grandfather seldom joined in any conversations and he would watch boxing matches. We never got gifts but we usually got silver half-dollars from him. The only other Italian family that lived in the area was the Chiappine family. Phil Chiappine and my father were boyhood schoolmates and now they both reside on 206 in the assisted living home called the Heritage. Also, it is only recently that we have become aware that our father's birth certificate has Luis on it. We found out that a kindergarten teacher preferred the non-Catholic spelling which was Lewis, so my father forever after became Lewis J. Tassone. (we have no idea what the J is for)
