The year—unknown. . .
The voyage, at least miles.
So very far from home, family, a tour of war.
Searching for a better life. . .
In a foreign nation, culture, state, city.
Broken English was his language. . .
He never owned or drove a car.
He walked and hitchhiked his way around his newfound homeland.
Hunted, fished, farmed–worked in the coal mines of
Logan
County.
Married and started a new family. . .
Three sons, two daughters,
19 grandchildren,
(and many great-grandchildren he’d never know).
A firm believer in hard work—especially manual labor.
Lived through The Great Depression.
Never forgot his homeland,
Was a member of the Greek Orthodox Church in
Huntington, WV.
Could frequently be found listening to Greek music on 33 LPNs.
Holy Water and a rosary with a beautiful cross were always seen upon the top of his bedroom dresser.
Water barrels for his garden were always lined against the back of the dark red, brick-siding house.
Fresh, garden-grown vegetables on a plate before him at the kitchen table.
Fasting brought with it a bit of crankiness. . . Large, golden tins of ripe, black olives—stored on a cabinet high above the kitchen sink.
Always remembered lovingly. . .
Often thought about,
Many questions of a previous, life in another country. . .
Left wondering. . .
what the Isle of Crete might still hold for those left behind in WV?
