2 nd Runner-Up: Brittany Lowe, Grade 7, Frank Ohl
My grandfather, William Dominic DeAngelo, Sr., was born November 3, 1918. He lived with his mother, father, his two brothers Fred and Albert, and his two sisters Sylvia and Josephine. He lived in Smoky Hollow in Youngstown, Ohio on Valley Street. At this time downtown Youngstown was a great place to be with such stores as Strouss' and Isaly's Ice Cream Shop.
When he was very young, my grandpa's father died. His mother had to raise all of the children, with which she did a very good job.
Everything was very simple back in his day. There were things for pennies and nickels, not millions of dollars.
"We ate a lot of Pasta Fagiole. My mother baked a lot of bread and we had pizza all the time. Everything was cheap. Sliced bologna was free and if you wanted a pound, you got it for ten cents."
The Great Depression started in the 20's, and at this time he lived through the hardest years of his life. He attended Madison Elementary, Hayes Junior High and graduated from The Rayen School in 1937.
"I walked three miles everyday to Rayen. Through feet of snow and rain, I was always walking."
When the Depression ended, everything was back to normal. Bill started to play marbles and got the nickname, "Dibbie," for when he asked "How much a dib?" This started the nicknames for all of his friends. There was Pigeon, (for shooting down pigeons), Salami (for how naive he was), Piccolo (he played piccolo), Cheepers (for being tiny), Spare (for bowling). Chip (off the old block), Lefty (left handed), and Skee (last name had "ski" on the end). His brothers were nicknamed Turk and Pubie. Pubie looked exactly like my grandpa.
When he was 25, my grandpa went to war. He immediately went to basic training for 13 months in Florida. He served in the army's ninth infantry division during World War II. "Rattlesnakes and coral snakes infested Fort Blanding," he said.
My grandpa was a very dedicated baseball player; he was a shortstop. He began playing with his brothers, but "three DeAngelo's on a team were too much." So my grandpa promised he would put together his own team, and he did. He began managing baseball as the best coach he could be. He taught them everything they would want to know about baseball. Bill's team won tons of chamionships. They went to state and tournament games and received many awards. My grandpa has many trophies still to keep for memories. He was even in the Hall of Fame for beseball. He was inducted in The National Softball Hall of Fame in April of 1984 and has many plaques.
When he came back from war, my grandpa worked at Youngstown Welding. A forty year employee of Yongstown Welding and Engineering, retiring in 1981 he was an outstanding shortstop who performed with a number of teams. Those teams included The Ritz Bar, Central Bar, Golden Eagles, DeBartolo's and Harrison Post.
On August 11, 1940, he married Lucile J. Pallante. They are the parents of four children. There was William, Jr., Tom, Joe and the youngest, Debbie. There are also nine grandchildren in the family. Brittany Lowe, Anthony, Michael, Kristen, Katie, Brian, Tom, Alyson and David DeAngelo. His is also expecting a great-grandchild in January.
William DeAngelo is very special to his children, grandchildren and friends. A generous and loving person, he is proud to be part of the Greatest Generation. |
Winner: Traci L. Walter, Grade 12, Life Skills Center
The Depths of the Stone Wall
I lean against the cold stone wall.
I'm trying not to cry.
As thoughts invade my inner-depths,
I wish that I'd just die.
My life is so much harder,
than I thought that it could be.
My cheeks are sore from crying,
just wishing I weren't me.
It's funny how some things work out,
how your life just holds you down.
How you can feel you're all alone,
in such a great big town!
I hear my daughter screaming,
as I lay awake in bed.
Now she's the only ting I've got,
she keeps me from being dead.
I stare into her tiny eyes,
so afraid and full of life.
It's amazing how we've got so far,
we've dealt with so much strife.
All I want now, is to lie still,
and hold her close to me.
Despite the fact it's just us two,
we're my whole family. |
2 nd Runner-Up: Nicole Heasley, Grade 7, Glenwood Middle School
"This sucks," I muttered, running to my final class of the day. It was way at the other side of the school. Today was only the first day. I would have to run like this at the end of every day, when I was nice and tired, for the whole year. But luckily I slipped into my seat just as the bell rang.
The teacher, a tall lady with an equally tall hairdo that slightly reminded me of Marge Simpson, stood at the front of the class.
"My name is Mrs. Lymann," she began with a drawl. I laid my head in my arms. I knew the drill: we would get a forty-two minute nap while the teacher talked about the same stuff I had already had to listen to seven times that day. They would read the syllabuses to us, as though this was something new and exciting and they couldn't do it themselves. But hey, it's what they had to do, and the nap didn't hurt.
The time went, though slowly. Finally I was on my way home. I let the music from my headset drown out the babble of the kids around me and slipped off into my own little world. It was more interesting than my own dull life.
Wailing sirens snapped me back into reality. An ambulance rushed by. I was irritated at the interruption. I noticed it was heading towards my house. But that didn't mean anything to me. It was probably taking a short cut.
When the bus dropped me off, my mother wasn't there. This was odd but I figured she had taken my sister, Angelina, to get her car fixed. But then I noticed a note by the phone.
Kyra,
Call your grandmother as soon as you get home. There's been an accident and she'll bring you down to the hospital with her. Don't worry; everything is going to be fine. I'll see you in a bit.
Ma
My mind went blank for a moment. I blinked and reread the note twice. What was going on? My mind was racing. What kind of accident? Who was involved? It couldn't have been my grandfather or my grandmother would have been with him. Did my sister crash her car? I quickly dialed the phone.
"What happened?" I asked. After a long pause that made my anxiety skyrocket, she said, "We'll talk when I get there," and hung up the phone.
After what seemed like hours my grandma arrived. Her eyes were red and puffy and it was obvious she'd been crying.
"Grandma!" I cried, running outside. "What's going on?"
"It's your father Kyra. He wrecked his motorcycle." She told me. I nearly fell over. This couldn't be true; my dad had been riding motorcycles since he was a kid. He was too experienced to get in a crash. I was too numb to cry or really feel anything else but shock.
"But he's ok, though, right?" I stammered. "I mean, it wasn't fatal or anything? They're not even considering him dying, he's just fine." I tried to smile and look confident, I tried to sound like I believed what I was saying.
"Kyra...death isn't a possibility...it's a probability." My grandma said in barely a whisper. She looked as old and grave as I had ever seen her. At these words, my numbness didn't go away but tears began flowing freely.
As we approached the hospital, however, I wiped them quickly. I couldn't cry in front of my mom and Angelina. I had to be strong.
Hospitals had always scared me. To me they symbolized death and sorrow, and my fear of them had now officially increased. My mom and sister were there waiting for me. My mom grabbed me and hugged me to her tightly for a long time. When she let go I saw both she and Angelina weren't crying now but they had been.
"How bad is it?" I asked, my voice shaking.
"Even if he does make it, his face is so smashed up they say he won't look the same. They also said someting about brain damage..." she broke off, tears welling.
"Can't we see him yet?" I said, almost begging.
"No. They're working on him as we speak and I wouldn't let you anyway. He's a complete mess."
I sat down and silence fell over us all. After a while Angelina whispered to me. "We were behind him. A car was trying to pass another and didn't see him...it all happened so fast, it took me a while to realize what had happened." She began sobbing too hard to talk anymore.
Now that I realized I had nothing to occupy myself with I wished I had brought my homework or someting to do. But as I flipped through an old issue of my favoriete magazne, Seventeen, I realized I wouldn't have gotten much done anyway. I had to reread articles four and five times to get what they were about. Pictures of my dad with a bloody, mangled face kept flashing through my mind. I hid my face behind the magazne. I couldn't hold the tears back any longer.
"You girls don't have to stay," my mom said. "I'm sure you're getting bored." That was true but I couldn't leave my mom now, nor did I want to leave my dad. "No, we shold stay.." Angelina began.
"Oh come now girls. Let's go out and try to have some fun. We can go out to eat and get ice cream, do some shopping. It's been a while since we've done something fun together."
When we didn't reply my mom added, "Go. There's no reason for you to stay. We aren't really any help to him and we won't be able to see him until tomorrow if we're lucky. I promise I'll call the cell and tell you everything I know the moment I know it." "Even if we're asleep?" I asked. "I'll wake you," Mom assured me.
So we left. It was quiet in the car except Grandma's feeble attempts at a conversation. For once I wasn't irritated at sitting in the back seat. Grandma took us to all of our favorite places. Though I had tried not to, I really did have fun. So did Angelina. "Thank you, Grandma." I said. "You're welcome. It was a great time." She replied.
I thought I would be up all night worrying but I fell asleep easily. I must have been exhausted without really realizing it. But it wasn't an easy sleep. Nightmares haunted me. I was in the car with Mom and Angelina when an oncoming car sent my father who was in front of us flying. He was dead. I woke up screaming in a pool of sweat. "Kyra!" My grandma and Angelina burst in. "I'm fine," I panted. "It was only a nightmare." Neither of them looked convinced but my mother arrived home right at that moment. I jumped out of bed and squeezed through the doorway between my grandma and sister. Mom looked wiped out. "He's still alive but barely. He hasn't woken up yet." She said when she saw me run up to her. "You're shaking. What happened?" Mom asked, looking concerned. "Nightmare," I muttered. The last thing I wanted was Mom more worried than she already was.
"Nightmare," I muttered. "They still won't let us see him." Mom added. "But do they think he'll make it?" Angelina asked. Mom paused then whispered, "No."
"But that doesn't mean he won't." Grandma added quickly. "That's right." Mom agreed. It didn't make me feel any better. I didn't even think of going back to sleep. I knew it wouldn't come.
We all sat at the kitchen table with Mom while she made herself a cup of coffee. "Ma, what will we do? What will happen to us if he..." I couldn't bring myself to finish the question.
"Let's not think about that." My mom snapped. Again, that awkward silence fell over us. Finally, Grandma left. I didn't want her to go. I didn't want to be left alone here. The house seemed strangely eerie and empty even though only one person was absent.
"Do you two want to go to school tomorrow? Maybe you should, seeing as how it's only the second day. But I won't force you to if you don't want to." I thought about it. I would probably be a wreck and I didn't want anyone to think anything was wrong. But to be here, alone, where memories of Dad filled every corner, while Ma ran back and forth from the hospital, would be too much to bear. "I'm going." I said. Angelina nodded in agreement. It was two in the morning. I decided to get to bed. It was going to be a long day.
I jumped when I saw my alarm clock said nine o'clock. But when I remembered the previous day's events I assumed my mom had let me sleep in. School was now just starting.
I tried to take my time getting ready but my eagerness to get out of the house overpowered my dread of school. I got there with my hair still damp. Everyone looked up and watched as I handed my teacher my pass and slipped into my seat. Once she read my excuse her eyes began to follow me too. But her eyes were filled with concern unlike my classmates who were watching me out of boredom.
After class my close friend Marie came up to me. "Where were you?" she asked. "Sick," I muttered. "With what?" "Stomach ache," I lied. Marie could be very nosy at times. A hopeless gossip, Marie could get the dirt on anyone. She was just starting on a story about the football captain cheating on his girlfriend when I was able to lose her at my third period class.
"Good morning!: my health teacher, Mrs. Kotzer, sang. She walked to the front of the room quickly, her shiny heels clicking loudly. She was a kind woman but she was almost sickeningly nice. However, after her morning greetings she turned very serious. "Today we're going to be discussing a matter of the utmost importance." She took her pointer stick and tapped at a poster of a car that looked as though it had been squeezed like a pop can. In bold it said, "THE CONSEQUENCES OF DRIVING DRUNK".
"Alcohol," Mrs. Kotzer explained. "Paint a picture in your mind. A kid your age comes home from school. He's a good kid. He does his homework after school, he keeps his room spotless, and he's very obedient. Why? He's not a goody-two shoes. He tries to be perfect because it's what his father expects of him. His father is an alcoholic and becomes abusive when he's drunk. The consequences for anything are most likely a beating.
"Different people react to alcohol in different ways. Some people become abusive, some become silly and happy, and some get depressed. But know matter how they get when they're drunk, they're a hazard on the road. Even the safest drivers can become victims in an accident with a drunk driver."
That's when Mrs. Kotzer really caught my attention. I remembered yesterday in Grandma's car asking myself how this all had happened. Dad was a great motorcyclist and he was careful. Had it been a drunk driver? Had someone's foolish mistake caused my family unbearable pain?
I was quiet all that day. When anyone asked I said I wasn't feeling well. But at lunch my fiend Georgia didn't even say hello. She pulled me into a tight hug the minute she saw me. I knew she could have found out what had happened. She went to my church and had been a very close friend since I was born, and our parents were best friends, too. My mom had obviously told her mom what had happened.
"Mom told me what happened." Suspicions confirmed. "How are you?" She whispered. We moved away from everyone else so I could tell her what happened. "It was horrible." I said as I finished retelling her about last night's events. "Well we'll all help you pull through. It will all be ok." I wished I could share her confidence. She reminded me about Movie Night with our church youth group. That news did cheer me up a bit, but when I got home my mother had some news to really make me day.
"They said at the hospital that your father almost woke up. He even mumbled something, although they couldn't tell what is was. "When can we go see him?" I asked desperately. "They say by tomorrow." I could have sung. It didn't look like we were going to lose Dad after all.
At school the next day I was more myself again. Goergia and I sat with our friends at lunch. Then Marie sat across from me. "So what happened with your dad?" she asked. I choked on my milk. "Wha-What do you mean?" I stammered. "You said you weren't here yesterday because you had a stomach ache but I found out your dad got into some kind of wreck. So what happened?" "How do you know?" I asked, bewildered. "Oh just a friend of mine's mom is friends with a friend of your mom." She said simply. I stared at her. "The grape vine."
"Oh well, he's just fine." I said. Marie clearly didn't believe me but she didn't pursue the subject. What I didn't know is that I had just told a bigger lie than I had thought I was telling.
Toward the end of the day in my sixth period class the school secretary came over the loudspeaker in my classroom. My mom was here. She had to pick me up. I began panicking as I had when I first read the note and my mind began to race again. What had happened now? What was wrong? Was it Dad? Had something gone wrong? I walked as fast as I could down the halls to my locker and down to the office. Calm down, I said to myself. Maybe nothing's wrong...maybe he's fully awake? But would Mom bring me home for that? Wouldn't she just wait until after school?
But then I saw mom and Angelina standing there waiting. Tears were pouring down their faces, and I knew. Something inside was telling me he had gone. I didn't say anything to them; I just pulled them into a tight group hug. We stood there for awhile, holding onto each other tightly as though we were afraid we would drift apart and lose each other if we didn't. But as horrible as I felt I knew everything would be ok, and it was like Dad was standing there telling me so. My family was strong and nothing would pull us apart.
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