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?