THE VILLAGE FRONT PORCH PHILOSOPHY

One very special sound plays in my mind : the soft sibilant sound of the Portuguese language spoken all around us as children.  It traveled on the breeze, no harsh sounds to absorb it.  After all, often only the click clack of a manual lawn mower broke the quiet.

I connect the music of that sound to our front porch on School Street in the Village.

 When I looked at the photos of that front porch over the years, 

I could trace the loss of community we took so for granted.

  Take a peek.

Here is my late cousin Jack Bernandino in front of the Souza homestead porch on School Street. It is totally open, big and wide. Its entrance was a  wide stoop of stairs perfect for sitting, for chatting.  Notice the wicker chair over on the right?  That was where my Grandmother Delphina would hold court.  Often there would be another elderly person sitting next to her discussing things of importance: always in Portuguese.  My grandmother went up to the second grade in Madeira; knew how to read and write. As the unofficial Village secretary she was adept at writing or reading letters for folks who could not do it for themselves.  Sometimes though these visits were about pure remembering, no agenda except to share, to remember, to laugh...perhaps to cry. Sometimes just to share Village happenings.

Sometimes my grandmother sat alone working her Madeira embroidery 

remembering her own stories.

Lots of events took place on the porch: weddings were launched. 

 Here is my Aunt Alveda on her wedding day in 1946.  I am happy to announce

that in 1978 my sister Mariellen left that porch for her wedding reception across the street,

probably as our Aunt Al did. 

Since the house was smack in the middle of School Street, people would stop and chat with my grandmother, with my father or mother, with us.  You had to pass our house since then everyone walked everywhere: to Church, to downtown or just for a turn "around the block". No one was in a hurry.  Menfolk going to the Portuguese American Civic Club across the street always gave a shout out of greeting to whomever was sitting on the porch,

As we got older and times changed,  the porch was closed in a bit.  Here my sisters Kathy and Mariellen and I sit with a friend  in the 1950' as we went off to Girl Scout camp, the porch now screened in.

In the 60's 0r 70's the porch was entirely enclosed creating a room with louvered curtained windows. It documented the changing times in our Village. It was no longer as inviting, but perhaps folks were not walking as much, playing freely as they used to or just moving away.  

There have been two owners since we lived there.  

Now there is a wrought iron fence closing off the yard.

                                                                      ................

Soudade is the word used in Portuguese for nostalgia, but it goes far beyond that, more like a deep yearning.  When I hear Portuguese being spoken, that is what I feel. I tried to look up translations for thte greetings I remember, they did not seem right.  I leave it up to your own memories.  Spending long hours working on my Grandmother Isobel's history, I would play Portuguese Fada music to put me in the mood.  I recommend this beautiful Fado video.

                                    Listen and close your eyes. This is my gift to you today.